Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Slave ❯ Masochistic ( Chapter 5 )

DISCLAIMER: We do not own DBZ or any of the characters form it.

A/N - Yippee! This fic is doing so well! It's so great that so many people still love a good old fashioned bondage fic…with maybe just a little romance thrown in ^_^ You people are so cool!

Thanks to Nikoru for beat reading!

~*~

Bulma jumped, despite her best effort not too, when the door made a warning beep before opening and admitting an officious looking man who was followed by several ladies, carrying material and other tools of his trade.

The tailor had arrived.

He wasn't a Saiyan as Bulma had expected, rather he was a member of yet another race that Bulma had never seen before.

He had flame bright orange hair and pitch-black skin; his eyes were a deep blood red and glinted in his face almost menacingly. His voice, however, when he spoke was soft and soothing and in direct contrast with his stunning looks.

He sounded like the stereotypical, flamboyantly gay male.

"You must be the…lady…we're hear to attend to." The tailor looked her over and smiled suddenly. "Well you're not a total loss at least."

"Excuse me?" Bulma stood up, still clutching her pillow to cover her body up.

"I mean, my dear, that you don't look half bad." He shook his head. "You're obviously new here if you don't take that as a compliment."

"Very new," Bulma admitted, watching warily as the tailor walked over to her and in one swift motion jerked the pillow out of her hands, leaving her standing naked and exposed.

"Hey!" Bulma exclaimed indignantly.

"Now, now, if I can't see your body I can't make you clothes, now can I?"

"Oh…I'm sorry it's just that I'm not used to standing around naked while being poked and prodded by others."

The tailor glanced up from measuring her waits and chuckled, "Well my dear, in your new line of work I'd advise you to get used to being poked and prodded."

Bulma blushed and looked away; the tailor merely chuckled at his own joke.

For the rest of the time that the tailor was there he was mostly silent. He took her measurements and asked Bulma to pick out the material she liked, all the time chuckling to himself and looking pleased. He then gave her a skimpy black dress which was too tight around her chest and began packing up his belongings

"I will have your clothes made and delivered for you within the hour; you may wear this until I return."

"Gee, how kind." Bulma muttered sarcastically looking unhappily down at her breasts that were straining against the material with every breath she took.

The tailor simply shook his head and left, wondering how long such a poor, little, naïve thing would possibly hold the prince's attention.

~*~

Vegeta shifted uncomfortably in his seat as the head of the space station droned on and on about the cost of living and the fact that under the current government scheme, rates would have to rise again; and that could put a large strain on the economy of the space station.

Vegeta watched his father, who to all accounts appeared to be listening to the man as he rambled on and on. Finally the king appeared to have had about as much boredom as he could stomach, and he silenced the man with a wave of his hand.

"I can understand your concerns, Lord Wexler, but unfortunately, due to current state of the Saiya-jin economy, it is necessary for these rates to rise. Our empire is in dire need of credits to fund the war with Frieza. Surely your people can understand that paying an extra 20 credits is a cheap price for safety from Frieza?"

Lord Wexler muttered something that sounded like a reluctant agreement and sat back down, still looking unhappy. His father caught his eyes, and Vegeta rose and walked to his father's side.

"I will bid you good night gentlemen." His father nodded at the men and stalked off. Vegeta gave his own nod and followed in his fathers wake, feeling acutely annoyed at his fathers pompous attitude as he swept along the hallways until he reached his set of suits.

"Will you join me for a drink, Vegeta?" His father opened the door and entered, not bothering to wait for Vegeta's answer. He poured out two cups of a sweet intoxicating brew he was fond of, but which Vegeta personally found repulsive and motioned his son towards a seat.

"Something you wished to discuss, father?" Vegeta took a sip and forced himself to swallow the horrid liquid.

His father sat back and swirled the liquid around in his glass. "Nothing in particular, I just needed to get away from the commoners." His father's lip curled with distaste. "I fail to see how they cannot comprehend that a rise in rates is necessary for us to continue our assault on Frieza."

"Like you say father, they're commoners. You can't expect them to understand affairs of the empire." Vegeta said the first thing that came into his mind, hoping to placate his father enough so he could leave and get back to his room…and the woman within it.

His father chuckled softly, "You're right of course." He looked up at Vegeta suddenly and took a sip of the drink. "Tell me, how is the whore I purchased for you?"

Vegeta bristled at the word 'whore.' It was a word he tried to avoid using when it came to his women; it sounded cheap and made him feel cheap to use it.

"Fine." Vegeta put the cup of revoltingly sweet stuff down and folded his hands in his lap.

"Just fine?" His father frowned suddenly. "She isn't dead already is she? I swear if you kill off another one of the concubines I'll…"

"Oh she's alive. She's very much alive." Vegeta smirked just remembering how alive the woman had felt.

"I take it she was well suited to her task? It's no secret that your tastes in women run to the masochistic and submissive."

Vegeta shrugged, this was not the kind of talk he wanted to have with his father. "I wouldn't call her masochistic, although she did seem to enjoy the pain as long as it was balanced off with pleasure." Vegeta shrugged, dreading what his father would ask next.

His father shook his head. "I've never understood how it is that you can take pleasure from another's pain on a sexual level."

"I don't take pleasure from giving everyone pain," Vegeta bristled again. "I merely find that watching a woman's body squirm with pain and pleasure under mine, and knowing that I can control her with the pain is extremely satisfying."

His father shook his head again. "That was a little more then I wanted to know." He glanced at the clock and grimaced. "I have to attend another meeting, you're excused Vegeta. Go back to your room and enjoy your new toy."

"Yes father." Vegeta left without looking back.

~*~

Bulma was curled up on the couch, dressed in a silk dress that had been dyed orange and yellow as if it were alight with fire. Bulma had though it would clash with her hair and eyes, but the tailor had been adamant that it would look good. And it had.

But now, despite the fact that the tailor had gone and she still had other clothing to try on, Bulma wasn't able to make herself move.

She didn't even know how long ago it had been since she had been taken from Earth. Had it been 2 or 3 days? All Bulma knew was that she was very, very tired.

Her body ached in places where it had never ached before, and her hand, which the slave traders had stabbed a knife through, was tingly and itchy even though it was healed.

Bulma changed her position on the couch and wished she could go to sleep on a real bed. But as soon as she opened her eyes and caught sight of the bed across the room, she shut them again and tried to ignore her mind whispering as it told her that she really was nothing but a slut; after all, she'd enjoyed all those horrible things that Prince Vegeta had done to her.

The door beeped a warning again, and Bulma shrank down lower onto the couch and shut her eyes. She didn't need to be a mind reader to guess whom it was this time.

"Woman?" His tone was questioning and a perhaps even a little sly sounding. Bulma stayed silent as kept her eyes closed.

She heard him walk across then room and then walk back again.

"Oh. You're there." He sounded oddly disappointed, and Bulma opened her eyes. "I thought maybe you were playing hide and seek with me."

"You're sick."

"No, just hopeful." He walked over and sat on the couch beside her. "I had a really bad day."

Bulma stayed silent.

"You're supposed to ask me why it was so bad," Vegeta prodded her.

"Why was your day so bad?" Bulma asked tonelessly.

"I had to listen to people speak."

"You had to actually listen to people? How terrible!" Bulma's voice was thick with sarcasm.

"I take it your day was pretty nasty too?" Vegeta sidled closer. "I like your dress."

Bulma was silent.

"It's very suggestive though isn't it?"

Bulma didn't rise to the bait.

"You know, you're no fun when you're like this." Vegeta sat back again and just stared at her.

"Like what? This is how I always am." Bulma watched him warily, not liking the strange playful light in his eyes.

He looked like a cat with a mouse.

Vegeta looked thoughtful for a second then continued to speak, apparently ignoring Bulma. "Then again I like you better now then how you were this morning."

Bulma managed to sit up straight. "You mean terrified? I was pretty scared this morning you know; you're really quite a frightening bastard."

He watched her with amusement. "You're different then most women you know; most women wouldn't dare talk to me like that."

"Maybe I want you to kill me."

"Maybe," Vegeta agreed. "But I won't; you're too interesting to kill." He grinned suddenly and reached across to pull her into his arms.

Bulma made a sound of protest but was far too tired to put up much of a fight.

"I'm tired." She tried to squirm out of his hold but ceased when it became apparent Vegeta wasn't going to do anything to her.

"So am I." Vegeta seemed content to hold her for a second, his hands gently tracing the flame pattern of her dress. "But I'm not too tired for a little fun."

"Well I am."

"Well I didn't ask you if you were or weren't." Vegeta pulled her up into his lap until she was straddling him, the material of the dress bunched up around her waist. Bulma watched him with a detached look in her eyes as he undid the tie at the back of her dress and slipped it over her head so that she was just in a pair of lacy briefs.

"Hey, very sexy." He smoothed a hand down one of her arms. "You know I've been dreaming of you all day like this." He leant in and breathed her scent before very gently kissing her. "I don't want to hurt you, you realize. Not when you're in a mood like this." Vegeta took a piece of her hair in his hands and looked idly at it. "It's only fun to hurt people when they enjoy it, and I don't think you'd enjoy it in a mood like this."

"Probably not," Bulma muttered as she slumped forward, her head resting on his shoulder.

"If I let you sleep, will you promise to do whatever I ask you to do in the morning?"

Bulma made a non-committal sound and let her eyes drift shut. She moaned in protest when Vegeta shook her awake again.

"Let me rephrase that; if I let you sleep now, will you give me a repeat performance of what you gave me earlier on in the day?"

"I don't know." Bulma tried to fight the sleepiness; she was so tired that she felt almost nauseous.

Vegeta pulled her back enough so he could look into her face. "Well since you don't know, and I own you, I'll decide for you. Tomorrow or whenever you wake up, you're going to give me the best fuck of my life."

Bulma tried to cringe and look offended, but in her sleepy condition all her brain managed to do was conjure up the memory of how good it had felt last time. Bulma moaned and fell forward again, this time completely asleep.

Vegeta yawned and stood up, easily carrying Bulma over to the bed where he dropped her with a decided lack of care and began to get undressed. It was disappointing that the woman was too exhausted to play with tonight, but still, he could be patient. Waiting would only intensify the pleasure when it came.

~*~

A/N - I know I know there wasn't any lemon in this chapter. But don't worry because in the next chapter there will be more then enough to make up for it. Please remember to review ^_^