Disclaimers:

I'm not Toriyama and hold no rights to his characters. I'm not making any money off of them so don't sue. Starving student here.

This story contains mature subject matter, mainly sex, some violence, and a little swearing. Please use maturity when reading it. People under legal age should probably not read this stroy, of course, you shouldn't have read any ot the other previous chapters either.

As always, if you have any questions or comments, please write.

Chapter 3

"Lieutenant Kakarott, the captain and squad sent on the purging mission to Tigana have returned …"

Upon hearing this the medium built Saiyajin with wild spiky hair interrupted the messenger, built up irritation rising to the surface at the news.

"It’s about time. The flight to the Croix galaxy takes 3 ship days, they’ve been gone for almost 20 days. How long does it take to purge a planet? The scouting report said it had two moons, TWO; one of them must have been right to allow for transformation. They even had the Prince with them. I understand his need to get off the ship and get some fighting in; a purging would do him good, but not to tell anyone… Wait a minute! Repeat that message, Saiyajin."

"Sir, the captain and purging squad has returned."

"What! What about the Prince?"

"The Prince is not with the squad. The squad leader said that the Prince was never on Tigana. They ran into some problems on route and one of the pods was sent off course. They’ve only been able to get the communications systems operational a day ago and that was only between the pods."

"Is that all there is?"

"Iie, Sir. When the captain was finally able to re-establish contact he told us of the news. He has been sent to the bridge by order of Commander Nappa."

At that Kakarott gritted his teeth and ran towards the bridge. He could only imagine what he would be able to get out of the unfortunate captain after the Commander got finished with the Saiyajin.

It had been three months since the day of his return from the off world training, the day of the great battle between himself and the Prince. He won, but it was a short-lived victory before Vegita’s beam hit him, grounding him into the floor of the arena. He sustained consciousness long enough to see the Prince pass out and the guards rushed in. He perceived being placed in a tank and then felt the nothingness again. When he awoke he was informed of the true outcome of their fight, the humiliation of the Prince by the King and his banishment off-world. When he again saw the Prince he was told that he would join Vegita off-world, the fighting rivalry as alive as ever. Kakarott was taken back by the gesture, almost assured that his victory would mean his death. Since that time the two had fought in hand-to-hand combat, the ship unable to handle a full out ki battle. Vegita had so far been the victor in their short contests. Neither warrior had brought up the reason why they were on the ship, Vegita prickling at even a casual mention of his father. The Prince had been tense since the ship left Vegitasei. Whatever occurred between the two had greatly angered him; his only reprieve seemed when he was fighting or killing. The bottled up anger found a focus and direction in combat, a cold and deadly accuracy entering the Prince’s fighting style.

Kakarott continued down the hall, his mind flashing back to the first and only purging the Prince had ever been a part of, more than a month after they left Vegitasei. A Kami-forsaken rock, even the name escaped him. It would hardly even be worth the notice of a low-level elite but he invited the Prince, hoping the distraction would loosen him up. Kakarott smirked and chuckled to himself, to say it loosen Vegita up was an understatement. Vegita relished in it, taking on all challengers, wiping out entire populations. There was only one true point of interest on the whole planet, some old crone who spoke of Vegita’s death. A ki blast in the head from the finger of the ‘doomed’ Prince ended her ravings. From that day on a hidden blood lust had seized the Vegita, the look of anticipation entering his eyes when the next purging mission was selected. It wasn’t until several hours later that his absence was noticed. Kakarott had almost smacked himself at the obvious action by the Prince. The last words Vegita had said to him still burned in his mind, "If I am going to die soon, Kakarott, I might as well enjoy it while I can."

Turning the final corner the lieutenant entered the bridge. The scene before him was so typical he pinched the bridge of his nose to collect his thoughts before jumping into the role of mediator. In the middle of the room stood the Captain of the ship, the Commander, the several high Elites on board, and the squad leader. Correction, thought Kakarott as his eyes watched the projectile flying towards him and he picked up the once airborne squad leader by the collar of his amour.

"Quite brilliant, Commander, but I don’t think sending him to the tanks before he can tell us anything will really help the matter."

"How dare you speak to an Elite like that, you third class onore. And who informed you of this meeting?

Shouldn’t you be setting up for the next purge; like father, like son."

Dropping the captain, the Saiyajin continued walking towards the table, his head held high with confidence. Kakarott merely smirked at the heated comment. "I may be a squad leader’s son but I could pound you to a pulp. Maybe you should use that scouter for more than a decoration. You’re lucky, Commander, that rank is giving by heritage and not power level or I would have been your superior long ago. I guess I’ll just be content to be the Prince’s sparring partner, unless you feel deserving of the honour?" He stood at the table now, his arms crossed over his chest and his tail unwound from his waist, no sign of fear in his posture or on his face.

A wariness went through the high level Elites and the ship’s captain. By birth Kakarott was no more than their inferior but his obvious power commanded respect and it was given, exceptions occurring only at the highest levels. The third class had long ago surpassed the Commander but Nappa still held on to his title and birthright as proof of his superiority. Nappa possessed enough sense to keep his mouth shut and move on to other matters.

Realizing that Nappa had decided to remain alive, at least for today, Kakarott turned and regarded the squad captain who had collected himself.

"Alright, Saiyajin." said Kakarott to the squad leader. "State your name, rank and last mission."

The questioned captain fell to one knee and brought a fist to his chest. In a clear voice he spoke out.

"Rehcse, Sir, Captain Rehcse of the purging squad 109, Second Class. Last mission was a purge of Tigana, class M planet orbiting an A9 class star. Planet has one-sixth Vegitasei’s gravity, ..."

"Thank you, Rehcse. Remember in the future when an order to state is given the officer doesn’t want a travel itinerary." Kakarott shook his head in disbelief. The Saiyajin before him was so shamed at his actions that they could never get the full story out of him, well not by Nappa’s method surely. Sending Nappa along on this mission must have been the final punishment from the King to the Prince. The bald baka eyed the occupants of the room, a glint of blood lust in his eyes. The Commander hadn’t had a good kill in a long time, Kakarott wonder how long the poor captain had.

"Okay, Captain; five pods departed the mission, correct?"

"Hai, Sir." The still kneeling captain replied.

"I am also correct in thinking that only four pods landed planet side, so the last pod got lost in transport, right?" Rehcse nodded his reply, still kneeling upon the ground.

"Enough of this stalling with stupid questions we already know the answers to, what happened to the Prince?!" The fragile link of Nappa’s patience snapped and he yelled out his frustration. "Get up off the floor! You call yourself a Saiyajin?" At that Rehcse shot up, arms by his sides and his eyes staring forward, his gaze off into space. Wonderful, Kakarott mentally sighed, back to where we started. He could only imagine what state they would be in if the Commander gets more than a verbal beating against the hapless captain.

"Do you know what happened to the pod?" Kakarott asked, trying to defuse the situation.

"Not completely, sir." Rehcse answered, glancing over to the questioner. Noting the look of further inquiry on the lieutenant’s face he continued with his testimony.

"After we were about five hours into the mission, sir, we ran into trouble. The scouting reports and the x-ray mapping of the area showed no large disturbances in the area but before we knew it we had entered an ionized hydrogen gas cloud. The area went undetected by the instruments on the ship because the cloud was relatively inactive. Once we got halfway through the gas cloud a magnet storm flared up; it knocked out our communications and the navigational controls of one of the pods. Twenty minutes after we went entered the disturbance our pods were nearly destroyed, heavy outer damage, links down; we were lucky we got to Tigana. One pod was hit worse than the others were. When I saw it I assumed that the occupant didn’t make it, I was surprised it could still fly. When we neared the centre of the cloud, the storm intensified, the fifth pod was finally hit completely off course. I can’t remember much after that until we arrived on Tigana, the suspended animation was activated. When I last saw the missing pod it was travelling 47° off course, towards the Tecra cluster."

"Do you have anything else, any messages before the ship drifted?" Kakarott asked, thankful that he had begun to get answers out of the shamed captain.

"I’m afraid not. I thought for sure that the pod would just land on some planet and wait for help. If the occupant was smart enough they could fix the communications’ bug and be back on the ship even before we would be."

"Well you are mistaken about one area; no signal, communications or the homing device has come from the pod. It’s been 18 days since the Prince departed and we’ve had no word yet on his status or present location."

"Sir," Rehcse finally said, his sense returning with his tongue. "The direction that the pod flew into is a dangerous, unstable area. We were able to gather information about the surrounding space from the inhabitants of Tigana. The ion cloud and the Tecra cluster is what has kept that planet unconquered for so long. Any attempts that the planet has sent out to explore the surrounding space has been destroyed in that area. Strange occurrences happen there, they even suspect that a black hole is at the centre of the cluster. If there has been no signal then it can be assumed that …" The words died on Rehcse’s lips as a thin ki beam slicked through his armour, ripping through his heart and puncturing his lungs. The now dead captain fell to the floor, collapsing in a pile. Kakarott turned and searched for the source of the deadly hit, his eyes rested on the Commander.

"Was that really necessary?"

"How dare you question my decision, third class. That bakayaro was killed for treason against the royal house, abandoning the Prince’s craft when it was damaged and saying that he might be dead. For that alone he should have been killed."

"Then what is your course of action now, Commander?" sarcasm dripping off of each word. "Unless you want to completely change the ship’s course we can’t go looking for the Prince, whether he is alive or not."

"We won’t look for the Prince, Vegita can take care of himself. When the ship returns to Vegitasei we will be passing through that section of space again and we’ll pick him up. That is the plan, we are not to inform the King of the Prince’s disappearance." With that Nappa and his entourage left the bridge, leaving the ship’s captain, Kakarott and the now dead Rehcse. As Nappa passed Kakarott he growled in a low voice.

"When all is said and done it’s the true birth right Elites who are superior."

Kakarott’s expression didn’t change, nor did he flinch at the comment. Internally though, he was using all of his control to keep his rage and his power level in check. Another great irony of the Saiyajins flashed into his mind, that power is what decides one’s rank but it is birth that decides one’s fate. Though he was one of the most powerful warriors in centuries, near to the level of the Prince, he was still his father’s son, still looked upon as third class. Nappa’s plan was not for the benefit of the Prince, the ship or Vegitasei; he was trying to save his own neck, not informing the King of Vegita’s fate was delaying his execution. While the Commander’s ego almost usurped the Prince’s, he did have respect for power, the Royal House’s power. As the highest-ranking Saiyajin on the mission, and the Commander of the Saiyajin military, it was his responsibility to ensure the safety of the Prince, a thought which had made Vegita laugh. When the news of Vegita’s ‘demise’ reaches the palace, it would be Nappa who would take the fall and, glancing again at Rehcse, the ki blast in the heart. His eyes glanced up at guard who had just walked into the room.

"Get someone to clean this up." Kakarott said to the guard. The guard nodded and grabbed Rehcse’s body, dragging it out of the bridge. With that unpleasantness out of the room the Saiyajin turned back to the table and tried to make sense of what had happened. Before him laid a map of the known Saiyajin empire, the planets that had been conquered, and those which had been scouted out but a purging squad had yet to land and clear the planet out. The ship had passed the Croix galaxy about 10 days ago, the change in navigation alone would take probably 5 days to complete. This was the first time the Saiyajins, or any power for that matter, had been able to enter the area. The ion cloud and other phenomena keeping the inner geography of the galaxy hidden from view. He continued to stare at the map; the entire mission was to take about a year, with 18 planets to be purged. The thought of having to spend that much time with Nappa in close quarters made Kakarott cringe. Since becoming the Prince’s sparring partner a kinship had developed between them, as much as Saiyajins can form a relationship with anything. Though from different classes they both had their crosses to bear, Kakarott to live down his third class upbringing and Vegita to live up to the royal expectations. It was then that his thoughts were interrupted by a light beeping and a stir of activity at one of the command modules.

"What is going on?" The ship’s captain said as he walked over to crowd.

Sir, we’ve picked up a homing signal from the missing pod. It’s not operational but it is in one piece. From the specs that the computer is sending me it landed planet side about 13 days ago in the far region of the Croix galaxy. Space co-ordinates: 3.14159, 2.71828, and 206265."

Upon hearing that Kakarott looked down at the map under his hands. The region of space that the pod was broadcasting from was in the mid-disk of the galaxy, an area unmapped by anyone. He glanced over the region again and a sudden disbelief entered him. The region was farther than even Tigana, much farther. It would have taken Vegita 30 days at least in the pod to reach whatever planet existed there, but according to the craft’s central computer he must have reached it in 5 days! Even Nappa’s brain could reason that this would have been scientifically impossible.

"That can’t be, the computer must be wrong." Kakarott finally yelled out. "He couldn’t have travelled to that region of space in the time he had, he would have to be going faster than the speed of light."

"I don’t know how he got there but he did. If the information that we received from Rehcse is true, the area might have gaps in the space time continuum, portals to other sections of the galaxy or even the universe."

Kakarott almost grabbed his head to keep it from spinning; portal, space time what. The ship might have been led by a Saiyajin captain but the crew were all slave. Figures, he thought, only a slave’s mind could think up such non-sense. Ignoring the creature’s continued explanation of the origin of the universe he glanced over at the map one last time. Vegita might had been smart for a Saiyajin but he wasn’t smart enough to fix a damaged pod, so who got it back on line? Obvious there must be intelligent life on the planet, and if they were able to take Vegita’s pod they must also be powerful. An excitement that he hadn’t felt in months sprang to his mind; whatever is on that planet is enough to take on a Saiyajin prince. Images of a coming battle and a new conquest filled his mind. He slowly walked out the sliding door of the bridge and made his way for the launching pad.

~~~~~

The chains about his wrists and ankles clanked against the floor as he was lead through yet another hall of this labyrinth. The Prince had remembered the immensity of the house when he first arrived, one of the only things that struck him before he was attacked. His first few days on this planet were nothing but several blurred memories, not that his recent days had been any clearer. Nothing had been right since entering that ion cloud.

Some memories were stamped on his brain; the encounter with the one that the slaves had called the ‘Master’, the time he spent in the Kennel where he learned the manners of a slave in this house. The pain and shame of those memories burned into his consciousness, battering his pride. Then there was the cause of his misery, the vision of blue and cream played with more than just his pride and consciousness. If it had been another situation he might have commended the human female on her ability to subdue a far more powerful opponent. He growled at the realisation, this was nothing but a game to that little wench. He was merely a pet for her amusement; he was her slave. As soon as his mind formed the thought his pride squashed it, refusing to admit defeat to a weaker being, a female being at that. Just wait, ‘Mistress’, he thought to himself, just wait until your precious technology is gone, then we will really play.

His guide and keeper finally stopped in front of a wooden door. Walking over to a communication module in the wall the man whispered four words into the speaker and a series of beeps followed. The Prince’s sensitive ears then picked up the click of a lock opening. Vegita followed as the guard walked in and knelt his respect to the room’s lone occupant.

"Leave the keys. Now go and return to your post." Came a soft lyrical voice but still containing an unquestioning tone of authority. The still prone guard merely nodded his head and walked up to the woman, kneeling in front of her and presented the keys to her. This exhibition of servitude gave the Prince an opportunity to finally look at his surroundings. Like the woman’s bed chambers the walls of this room was covered in books. Leather bound manuscripts and scrolls lined the two of the four walls of the giant room. The far wall, true the architecture of the house, was a giant picture window, showing him for the first time since his capture this strange world that he had the misfortune of landing on. His attention returned to the room again. The kneeling guard had finally risen, leaving the pair alone. The woman had changed her coverings again, a sheer silver cloth elaborately folded over her curves, held in place with a jewel-encrusted broach. Unlike her other coverings this one reached no farther than her mid-thigh. His earlier memories of her jolted into his mind, causing him to stare at her shapely calves and lush hips.

Finally returning her notice to him, she saw his eyes focused on her bare legs and chuckled lightly, snapping the Saiyajin out of his trance. Walking up to him, swinging the shackle keys with each step, she stopped in front of him and placed a hand on his chest. Her fingers made sweeps of his chest, exploring the texture of his muscles as her eyes stared into his, amusement and anticipation playing in her pools of blue.

"Are you ready, ‘My Prince’, for your new training? Now that you have become an official slave of my house, I will teach you some new skills." Vegita growled low in his throat, his anger over the events of the past days was soon reaching the breaking point. His eyes stared daggers at her; his hands itched to have her neck between his fingers.

Sensing his growing hostility Bulma’s free hand moved around him to stroke the soft fur of his tail. His once hostile eyes closed and his growl turned into a purr. Stepping closer to him, she continued to sweep over his chest, her lips kissing everywhere her fingers explored. The Saiyajin began to relax; the tension left his body, causing him to lean into her caresses. She then began working her way up his body, nipping at his collarbone and finally licking the lobe of his ear. Stopping her ministrations she whispered into his ear.

"Are you going to be obedient?"

Vegita nodded his head; all conscious thoughts had left him as soon as she began to stroke his tail. It was then that he felt a pull on his chains. He opened his eyes to see that she was leading him to a heavy wooden table, intricately carved. On top of the table stood a black and white game board, covered with tiny figures. The temptress spoke again, drawing his attention away from the board.

"This is a test of your intelligence, ‘my Prince’, a battle of wits. I challenge you to a game of strategy, Kaissa. You’ve shown me that you possess cunning and perception beyond what I would expect from and if you win, I will grant you any wish you desire within my power."

Thoughts of freedom sprang into his head; this woman really was a fool. On Vegitasei they had few games, few of this nature anyway. Almost all activities were of a physical nature, either fighting or hunting, but games of strategy did exist. When the Saiyajins gained an Empire, customs of the conquered people were brought back along with the slaves. As Heir to the throne he was expected to know all the rules of court etiquette, and the mastery of Shueisha, the game of the royal house. It turned out to be another thing at which he excelled at over his father. The Prince was a natural at the game, his cunning and ingenuity in fighting transferring over to the control of the pieces on the board. He had given up the game long ago; the physical aspect of training overshadowing the game but he still had enough of it to beat her. He could almost taste the victory over his captor.

Taking his unresponsiveness as hesitation she spoke again.

"Is the warrior afraid that he will lose to the weak human? Or maybe you need some more encouragement?"

"I accept your challenge, woman. When I win and you release me, you will regret ever mocking me."

"What makes you think that I would release you, ‘My Prince’." With that she turned and walked up to him again. "You belong to me, you are mine forever. The Fates have given you to me and it is they would will decide if you are to be freed or not. I will never grant you your freedom, not that it matters. I have never been defeated in this game, and I don’t intend to lose." By the time the last words that left her lips she stood close enough to breathe in his breath. Leaning into him again her hands slipped up his back and towards his collar. "You are also to address me as Mistress."

Vegita felt as if his knees would give out on him, as if his strength was being drained out of him. He gritted his teeth and forced himself to stand, his pride not letting him fall.

"You are a stronger one than I thought, but you will never win. Do you yield?" Her feather-like touch was exploring the terrain of his back, the humiliation almost too much to bear. When he didn’t answer immediately her hand trailed back up towards the collar.

"Yes, I give." he said in a weak voice, the strain of the collar becoming too much for him.

Pressing herself as close to him as his chain would allow she whispered seductively into his ear. "Who do you give into?" At that question the collar glowed brighter, making Vegita think that he might lose consciousness.

"To you, Mistress." The second the words left his mouth the draining feeling around him disappeared. Gasping to get air into his empty lungs, the woman before him stepped away, giving him some space. Allowing him to collect himself, she approached the weakened Saiyajin. With the seductive tone still in her voice she grasped his chains and said, "Are you ready to play?"

Vegita merely nodded his head, his stubbornness returning with his breath. She may have beaten him with her silly machine but he would never give her the satisfaction of using her title again. With his acceptance of her demands the shackles on his wrists were loosened and fell to the floor, the clank echoed allowing the ceiling. He felt the warmth of her hand on his own, leading him to the table and stopped in front of one of the chairs. On the table in front of him was a board where two armies, one of white and one of black, stood at the ready for battle. Leaving him standing at the table she walked to the other side, in front of the white army and sat, Vegita soon following suit. A small side table, unseen by him until this time held a platter of food with a jug of wine and two goblets, one half filled. He almost mental sighed at the sight; she had started to sip some of the wine, meaning he would not have to go through the blessing ritual. Though his pride vehemently denied performing such an act he did not know if he could take another trial with the collar. His internal conflict was quickly silence by her voice, explaining the rules of the game and how the pieces moved.

"Now that this is settled, we must decide on a reward, an encouragement for ‘his highness’ to keep his mind in the game."

"There is nothing that you can offer me that I would ever want." Vegita remarked smugly.

Her lips curled into a knowing smile. "I don’t know about that, ‘My Prince’, but I will offer you something more interesting to your mind right now. For every piece of mine that you take off the board you may ask me a question, any question about this world, this house or that collar. Think wisely, Vegita. Remember, knowledge is power."

With his strength all but gone to the collar he shrugged and accepted the terms. If he was going to get out of her grasp it would have to be with cunning and not brute strength. Even if she did not offer him his freedom right away, he could still use this little exercise to his advantage.

"What do you gain from this?" Vegita asked, voicing his curiosity. "What do you get if you win?"

"Nothing more than the pleasure of the challenge, Saiyajin. All life is a game, ‘Little Prince’, all of us are fighting a war; against the world and against ourselves. I wish only the challenge of the game. That was your last free question, Vegita. From now on all questions must be earned."

With that she grasped the top of one of her pieces by the tips of her fingers and moved it up the board.

"Your turn." she said, smiling at the thought of the upcoming match. Since she had been a young child she had loved this game. She played against her father and the other dignitaries who visited the house and she had never been beaten. Her brother had taught her the game, using it as a way to teach her the art of politics, or manipulation. He hoped one day his sister would be able to play a part in his plans for the house and he needed her to understand how it worked, how to play the game. Bulma’s eyes trailed over the form of her opponent, he had fire, this one. He would be a worthy adversary, he had already proven himself in other areas and she didn’t see him disappointing in this one either. Her attention turned back to the board as the Saiyajin moved a piece and his gaze moved over to meet her own. Let the game begin, she thought.

~~~~~

Much to her shock and dismay his Scribe captured one of her Initiates in five moves. The Prince looked up from the board and smirked at her, a sense of victory already in his obsidian eyes.

"’Mistress’," he said, the smugness in his voice mocking her title. "Tell me what this collar is, how does it work?"

"What point would there be in telling you that. I don’t think a Saiyajin mind could even understand the theory behind that collar, what use would that knowledge be to you?"

"Ah, ah, ah, little one. I’m not the one who lost the piece. Why I want this knowledge does not concern you. Why are you being so defensive all of a sudden, ‘Mistress’, afraid you will lose?" She seethed under his taunting, swearing to herself that she would beat the attitude out of him, if not by cunning then by force.

"I thought you were a creature on honour, and yet here you are backing out of our deal. Maybe you need some encouragement." With that his tail skimmed around the skin of her bare calf, teasing her with its softness. Her hands clenched, trying to contain both her anger and the feeling his fur on her body was creating in her. The tip of his tail found the back of her knee and began tickling her, causing to lightly whimper. Chuckling at her condition he allowed his tail to explore higher, brushing against the smooth skin of her thigh. Feeling his touch so near her centre she groaned and her eyes closed at the sensation. Believing he had proven his point he removed his tail from her now trembling body. She whimpered again at the loss of his touch and slowly opened her eyes, revealing two deep pools of need.

"Now, ‘Mistress’, answer my question. How does this collar work?" he voice turned soft and became like the caresses he had been teasing her with before. When she didn’t answer immediately his tail wrapped around her ankle like a shackle, pulling her leg tightly.

"Yet me go and I’ll tell you." Bulma hissed through her teeth, using the only real leverage she had at the moment to free herself. The pressure on her ankle disappeared and she brought her leg into her lap, rubbing her bruised skin.

"I’m waiting." Vegita purred to her, enjoying this little game.

"The collar works to regulate the body’s own magnetic field, disturbing the flow of the energy through the body. Once it has attuned itself to the test body’s field and fluctuations it begins to control the level of the ki in the body. That collar has a particular feature, an energy drainer. You should be proud, ‘My Prince’, that component had to be specially added for you, it was the only way we could collar you, the ki energy that you radiated was too powerful for just the magnet field regulator to contain. I hope that was helpful for you." Her voice was nothing more than a forced whisper by the time she had finished.

"Your move." he purred out again. Her eyes snapped fire at him and she examined the board, more determined than ever to defeat him. With that she moved her Builder into position to take either a quar or his Rider of High. The game continued, both on the board and between the participants. Bulma returned her leg to the floor and brimmed with confidence as she claimed one of his pieces, evening up the odds.

"I did not think you would be such a challenge, Vegita. Next time I shall have to give myself a reward when I claim one of your pieces." She said to him as she held the ebony figure in her delicate hand triumphantly.

"I guess it would only be fair. Never have it said I did not accept all challenges equally. Though, you will have to earn all your questions after this." He said, giving the favour as if he were a Prince in the court of Vegitasei again, his words deliberately mocking her earlier comment.

"As if there would be anything of interest on a barbaric planet as that which produced the Saiyajins."

"The Saiyajins must interest you enough, ‘Mistress’. You obviously must enjoy barbarians, since you seem so adamant upon keeping one."

"And how gaoling it must be to be captured and subdued by such a weaker being, all your Saiyajin strength defeated by human intelligence. The great irony, isn’t it, ‘My Prince’?"

"That is yet to be determined, little one." he said out, confidence at his victory bringing a calming effect to his voice as he moved his quar into a position of attack and waited for her counter. The truce lasted for three moves, before the Prince took one of her minor pieces.

"You’re losing again to me, ‘Mistress’. I guess my next question is how do you undo this collar? Is the material flexible or does it break under strain?"

"That is two questions, ‘Prince’, and I shall answer the first one. The collar you are wearing has only one key and that is me. It would be very foolish of you to kill me, if you do you will never be free of the collar."

Vegita growled at her answer but ignored it, he would get everything he needed out of her. His complete belief in himself blinded him to anything else, especially her Scribe capturing his Tarnsmen, evening up the score and creating a hole that threatened his Home Stone. His obsidian eyes narrowed at his stupidity at leaving such a weakness in his defences.

"Why, Vegita, is there something wrong? Not willing to open yourself to my scrutiny, ‘My Prince’?" She almost laughed at his expression, anger in his facial expression but shock in his eyes; a combination that suited him, she thought. "I guess I would wish to know how you got here, how you managed to land on this planet?"

"I was sent off course while in transport to a purging mission." His voice was soft yet determined, trying not to concentrate on the time when his life had turned into the plaything of the Gods.

"Purging Mission? What is a purging mission?"

"Ah, ‘Mistress’, no more than one question at a time."

"Then I guess it is your move, ‘your highness’." She had guessed that from his reaction to her question, that loss of his usually bravado, that she had struck a cord. Grabbing a grape from the platter she placed it on her tongue, savouring the sweet taste of the fruit and grasped for another one. She smiled as she finished the second grape; her little warrior would have to do some major rearranging to make up for the loss of his defences. The opening might not have been big enough to guarantee her victory but she could do some damage to him before finally crushing him. Her mind began forming questions to ask him, getting under his layer of mystery as she got rid of the ranks of his little army. With her mind fully centred on her victory she sipped her wine and stared over at her opponent. To her surprise he was staring back at her, that smug look of inevitable victory over his face.

"Your turn, ‘Mistress’." he cooed at her. Looking down at the board she saw that he was a better adversary than she had previously imagined and set up her pieces in counter to his new assault. She had seen almost every strategy imaginable for this game but she had never witnessed this particular tactic. It was if he had led her into a false sense of security and now had her on the run. Her turn going to a defensive manoeuvre, he captured one of her quars and looked her down again.

"I guess you must answer my last question, what are the tension stresses of this damn thing?"

"The collar has only been tested at normal pressures and as far as it has been found, it can withstand about everything." She replied flippantly to him, as if the information that she now giving him was common knowledge. He stared into her eyes again as his tail moved towards her legs.

"Why are you lying to me, woman? Do you think I have no brain at all? You said earlier that you had to add something new into this collar to make it work, meaning that you must have used a normal one before. Now, are you going to tell me the truth?" With that final statement his tail travelled up her leg once again, sweeping up her calf and stopping at the back of her knee. His light tickling from earlier had turned into gentle rubbing, earning a groan from Bulma. Her eyes closed she began to lift her leg, allowing him better access to the sweet spot he had found. His free hand grabbed her leg and his fingers replaced his tail, teasing a fit of shivers from his ‘Mistress’. His tail continued up her leg, stroking her inner thigh. Bulma’s head began to fall back from the sensations inside of her and she moaned her pleasure. When he felt that he had toyed with her enough his tail trailed down her inner leg. Before he could remove his hand she whimpered again. "More." she commanded him, not wanting the glorious feeling to stop.

"Not until you have answered my question, ‘My Lady’."

Still in a daze of pleasure Bulma answered his question. "When you first came you were weak so we easily subdued you. Seeing your power level, I felt it was necessary to restrain you and the collar seemed our only option. You were the first it was ever used on." Think that she would soon stop her explanation Vegita returned his tail to her knee, gentling massaging her smooth skin with the tip of his tail. Her found that his mode of persuasion seemed to work best on her. At the return of his tail and the feeling she continued; stopping occasionally to gasp or moan at the sensations that coursed through her. "The first collar broke as soon as he put it on you, you where, mmm, coming out of consciousness for the first time. I, ahhh, wasn’t lying to you. You asked about physical strains, that was only a, hmm, power surge. No… Tests… Done on… Metal." Deciding she had had enough, his tail left her leg for the last time. Her eyes fluttered opened at the absence of his tail and she stared at him again, the longing growing in her deep blue eyes. The need was soon replaced by anger at his actions towards her, not only manipulating her but also leaving her in such a state of dissatisfaction.

"Your move." Vegita said to her, in this game between them he was manipulating her like clay.

It took Bulma several seconds to get her jumbled thoughts in order, her concentration in shambles at his touch. She drew her full attention back to the board; she would not let this little monkey make a fool of her. With her options laid out in front of her, she scanned through every tactic she knew and threw them all out the window; can’t be predictable when you’re fighting an enemy like this one. Moving her next piece into place she quipped to herself, sometimes the best defence is a good offence.

A silent truce was struck for a second time as the two as the attention travelled back to the game progressing on the ebony and white oak playing field. The black rider captured the white quar.

"You’re falling behind, ‘Mistress’. The next question is a simple one, even for you; what is the name of this planet?"

"Do you not even know where you are, ‘Little Prince’? This is Gaia." she answered in a strong voice. "I believe you forget, sometimes one has to make sacrifices to win a war." And so saying her rider snatched his own.

"Now, what is this purging?"

"Purging is the practice of laying a physical claim on a planet. The planet is cleared of all indigenous life forms. Any intelligent life forms that survives are taken as slaves, either to other planets or kept for the Saiyajin Empire."

"You really are nothing better than a barbarian to engage in such a disgusting act."

"Are we a hypocrite? You look down on my people for a practice you do yourself. I suppose it will be of no matter soon, this is Saiyajin space and all the planets in it will eventually be purged." His cold amused eyes stared across into a pair of anger blue ones. Did you really think that you had control of me, woman? I am the Prince and once I am found this planet will be nothing more than my personal playground, complete with a new pet.

The pieces and barbs went back and forth across the table for hours at a time, neither side claiming victory over the other. In that time the Prince had taken 4 more of her pieces and had found out the landing location of his pod, the number and cycle of Gaia’s satellites, and the name of the local star. Bulma looked down at the board, trying to avoid that black stare. She had kept up to par with him, stealing four of his troops. While her answers brought him a further sense of power hers brought only more anxiety. These Saiyajins were powerful, far more powerful than she had already assumed. They were space pirates, creatures of genocide with a large empire and access to technology that would make her head spin. Her appetite had long since deserted her while his had come to life, devouring the whole platter of food. It was her move again; she could not let the Saiyajin win. Moving her Tarnsmen across the board she captured his guarding quar. Her mood had gone from one of triumph to self-survival, her only thoughts of how to hold off the Saiyajins. Her mind went back to her earlier talk with Kayra and the words of warning came back with a vengeance. She was the key to keeping the evil away; her shoulders almost slumped at the thought of her task. She saw in her mind the Saiyajins coming, brought here by her greed. Kayra said that an evil was approaching and she couldn’t think of anything more evil, not even Gero. She couldn’t let that happen, the future was not set, what is to be can be changed.

"Do your comrades know where you are?"

At the sound of her question his expression turned from one of ensured victory to a look of pure rage. Bulma blinked at the sudden realisation; he didn’t know. He didn’t know where they were or if they knew where he was. By the very collar alone he could not use his ki to send signals and she had control of his ship. The advantage had switched yet again.

They continued their play, Bulma not pressing the issue that he had not properly answered her last question. He finally proved to be her ultimate opponent, the first in her 20 years to take her Home Stone. Standing from the table he smirked down at her, he could have anything he wished. Bulma almost smiled back, one little wish didn’t matter now. He had won the battle but she had won the war.

~~~~~

"First, woman, you will undo the chains around my ankles."

"Demanding no are we, ‘My Prince’. You know that I will not free you from the collar and as long as you wear it you are in no position to give orders." She countered at him, staring up at him from her place at the table.

"As I said, that will change; never doubt it, little one. Did you forget your oath again, I have beaten you at this simple game and you must grant whatever I desire. Do you wish me to jog your memory again?" His tail, which had been lying limp along one of his legs, slid like a snake towards her.

"I remember! Just know, Saiyajin, my word is as good as my bond." Internally she had flinched at the movement of his tail. She knew she needed all her wits about her to deal with the Prince.

"You should learn respect, wench. Now take off the chains."

"You should remember your place, slave. Mockery of your Mistress is still an offence, punished by lashes." Bulma stated with an angry edge in her voice.

"I remember all too well, ‘Mistress’." Vegita spat out and roughly grabbed her shoulders, pulling Bulma to her feet. His hand slid from her shoulder to the back of her slender neck. "I still haven’t repaid you." Bulma winced as his fingers sharply dug into the back of her neck. "Maybe you were right, ‘Mistress’, maybe there is something you can give me that I would desire." The pressure increased and Bulma was forced to the floor.

"My life, is that want you desire. You would be a fool to kill me, Vegita. Kill me now and you will never be free of the collar. As soon as you left this room my security systems would find you, it would only be a matter of time before my men find you and kill you. What of your glorious revenge then, ‘My Prince’?" A hiss left the prone woman’s mouth as the hand on the back of her neck gave one last squeeze and vanished. Turning to face her would be assassin, she found herself staring at his newly healed back, his posture ramrod straight, trying not to show that her words had affected him so. Her eyes swept over his back again. He truly was a glorious creature, her visual examination of his body reminding her of the night before and the pain that he had suffered at her hand. To wound such a being; it was the guilt that made her call the Bruha and ask her to heal his back. Yet he must still be in pain, the muscles sore, if not from the beatings then the nights spent in the Kennels. She was shocked at the thoughts that came into her head of how to take away his pain.

"Do you still feel pain in your back?"

The question aroused a curiosity in the Saiyajin as he turned and faced his recent tormentor. "What business is it of yours?"

"You are my possession," she bit back. "I never wish harm on any that are mine. If you are in pain I can take it way, if that is what you desire."

Vegita was taken back by the response, the bitch might have been playing with him but she had a good point, the muscles in his back ached terribly. What ever they have given him for his wounds obviously didn’t work on everything. What irony that she who gave me these wounds now wished to take them away. He decided then to take that as his reward, it will be good to show her who the true ‘Master’ will be and the sooner she learned her duties the better.

"Your suggestion has interested me, ‘Mistress’. You to repair the damage you have done to me but first you will remove my leg shackles."

Bulma stood up at his words, defiance in her eyes at his order. Vegita gazed back, a smirk playing upon his lips, almost begging her to go against her word so that she may suffer the consequences once again. Instead of shouting back at him Bulma walked towards one of the smaller tables in the room and picked up the keys. Her every move was scrutinised by the Prince, his eyes going back to her bare legs, admiring the shapeliness of her long limps and the sway of her hips. Walking back to him again, his gaze glimpsed over her front, the outline of her breasts in the light fabric that draped over her curves. Maybe he would get her to do more than take his pain away.

As soon as she was within arms’ length Bulma stopped and knelt down in front of Vegita. She didn’t want to look at the expression on his dark face. I will never kneel before you, Vegita, her mind repeated, this will never happen. Releasing his feet, Bulma sighed her relief when no kick or attack came. Even if he was no where as strong as he usually was he could still do a lot of damage. Standing, she found herself caught in that hard obsidian gaze.

"Lead the way, ‘My Lady’."

~~~~~

It must have been quite a sight, Bulma thought as she approached to her bedchambers. His victory had released the Prince’s dormant arrogance and Vegita refused to walk behind her and she, as Mistress of the house, refused to walk behind him. There were the two of them, making their way through the palace halls side by side, as equals. She had even caught sight of Yamcha along the way. The Prince had as well, staring down at the chief guard with triumph over his proud face. Yamcha merely walked away when he saw the Prince’s free arms and legs but a dark look was in his eyes.

After Bulma opened the door to her chamber she mock bowed to Vegita, beckoning him into the room. A savage look of anger flashed in the Saiyajin’s eyes at her mockery and his arms moved over his chest but he walked in. He would make her regret that taunting gesture.

"If you would just lie down on the bed, on your stomach, I can begin."

"You forget yourself again, ‘Mistress’. You are under the impression you are the one in control. I will decide what I want, when I want it. Do you understand?" She was surprised at his tirade, not at the words but the soft tone he used. His arms dropped from his chest as he approached her, continuing in the same soft tone.

"You would do well to remember that you are in the presence of royalty, Saiyajin royalty at that." His fingers lightly clasped her chin as his other hand went up to her head, taking the combs out of her hair, causing it to cascade around her shoulders. His hand then plunged into her soft locks, admiring the heavy silk feel of her hair. The hand on her chin also began its exploration, stroking the smooth skin along her jaw and cheek. Bulma merely stood, shocked at the gentleness he was now displaying. The movement of his hand in her hair began to soothe and calm her, the stroking of her face helping to lull her into a sense of peace. Her eyes began to close, shutting out the world around her but the feeling of his hands on her skin. She became aware of his warm breath brushing her neck and moving higher to disturb the delicate hairs at her temple.

"You would make an excellent addition to my father’s harem." Vegita whispered into her ear. The gravity of the words snapped Bulma’s mind back to attention, her mind filling with hatred for the being in front of her. Everything was a game to him, a power struggle. "You will repair the damage you have caused, but I mean to play with you for a while first."

Anger at his words caused Bulma to lash out at him, raising her hand to slap him for his insolance. Effortless he caught her hand and brought it to his mouth, kissing her open palm and travelling down her arm, his lips skimming over her wrist and the soft skin of her forearm. His tail wrapped around her upper thigh while the tip tickled the spot behind her knee. Bulma’s eyes closed at his assault against her senses, light moans forming in her throat. Putting both of her hands above her head, he began to ravish her neck. His attentions suddenly stopped as he pulled her arms sharply, bringing Bulma out of her trance.

"Where are the marks?" he asked coldly, the softness now absent in his tone.

Bulma roughly pulled her arms free and looked at him, confused as to his meaning. She hated him and herself for allowing him to play with her so. Her fingers went back to her neck as she pondered his meaning again.

"Where are they, woman, the marks I gave you yesterday? They could not have disappeared."

Smiling with a renewed sense of understanding, her arms folded over her chest in a mimic of his own stance. "Maybe they did disappear, how do you think you healed so quickly. What is the matter, ‘My Prince’, you did not think you could mark me that easily, did you?" Without further note, Bulma walked towards one of the trunks along the wall, rummaging through the content until she found a small wooden box.

"If you have no objection, I would like ask you to lie on the bed and we will begin." Relief and victory welled in Bulma as she saw the opposing figure across from her walk towards the four poster bed. Moving to the other side, she placed the ornate box upon a small table, opened it and brought out several crystal vessels of liquid. Removing the stopper from two, she poured the contents of the vessel into the palm of her hand, sniffed at the oil and rubbed it over her hands.

"What means of torture to you plan on using now, wench?"

"Patience, ‘Your Highness’. I ask only that you get on the bed. I do this out of respect for my word but I will not hesitate in punishing you for your insolence. You must trust me, ‘My Prince’."

Vegita merely growled but did as she said; the pain in his back nothing serious but it was annoying and if it required her serve him, he would gladly comply. He got atop the bed and laid down on his stomach, the cool smooth feeling of the sheets a comfort against his skin. The bed sunk a little under his weight, the softness of the bed reminding him of his wing back in the palace. His thought went back to Vegitasei and his life there until he felt it, her hands upon his skin. At first he nearly jumped from the bed at the shock but it quickly died as he composed himself and allowed her to continue rubbing his sore muscles. He felt the movement of her hands just below the collar, kneading his skin with that oil that played with his nose. He sniffed the air, the light yet spicy scent, pleasing. His breathing slowed as she moved her hands lower, the treatment working in more ways than one. He had to grudgingly admit that her ministration felt wonderful, her hands ridding his body’s aches and knots. The rhythm she was using, slow yet strong was having a lulling effect on his senses, his eyes closing as he let out a sigh. Her fingers travelled over his shoulder blades, kneading and stroking the tension away. She dug her thumbs along the sides of his spinal cord, working out the knots that had come from sleeping in the Kennels. She continued to rub down the sides of his back with the palm of her hand, the oil and her administrations sending heat coursing through his whole body. He felt a shift in the pressure of her strokes and was amazed when she sat on his lower back, right above his tail. Before he could speak he felt another sensation on his back, the feeling of her lips kissing and nipping his neck, causing a moan to escape his lips. Almost feeling the smile of her lips he felt her go lower, tasting the flesh of his upper back as her silky hair teased his shoulders. Her hands were busy as well, drifting over his triceps as she stroked the muscles of his arms. Her hot mouth began to climb back up his body once again, kissing, nipping and tasting along the way. He felt her slightly laboured breathe across his ear.

"Do you wish me to continue, ‘My Prince’?"

Her delicate gasp whispered in his ear as he replied to her question, his tail wrapping around her calf and stroking leg. He felt her weight shift yet again, this time to sit on the back of his thighs. Her hands returned to his lower back, her digits teasing him in the spot above his tail. Vegita groaned at the feeling, his tail tightening in response.

"Did you like that, Vegita?" Bulma purred, before her tongue followed the same path as her thumbs.

A growl formed low in Vegita’s throat. "Little vixen."

Bulma merely laughed at his statement, taking yet another liberty with the Saiyajin laid out in front of her. The feeling of fabric passed over his tail as he realised she had removed his loincloth. The base of her palms kneaded the flesh of his buttock while her teeth nipped at the flesh around his tail. He felt himself become hard, his only desire to feel her body underneath his own. As if it had a mind of its own, his tail wound its way around her slim waist, lifting her off of him and placing her on the bed. Keeping his tail firmly around her, Vegita plunged his hands into her aqua hair and claimed her soft lips with his own. He angled his mouth over hers, drinking from her lips as if drinking from her soul. Bulma returned his passion with her own; her hands moving up to caress the muscles of his chest. The Saiyajin’s kiss turned tongue as he entered her mouth, his tongue sparring with hers. His hands skimmed down her body and fumbled with the broach over her right hip, trying to rid himself of the last barrier between himself and the tantalising creature beneath him. She smiled under his lips as her hands went to join his, unclasping the broach from her hip and allowing him to nearly rip the stola off of her. His hands were every where, touching her all at once. She gasped against his mouth as she felt his hand cup her breast, his callused thumb stroking her nipple into a little bud. Not to be outdone, Bulma’s fingertips found his nipples, giving it the same treatment as Vegita gave to her own breast, earning a groan from the Prince.

Vegita broke the kiss and looked at the woman under him. Her dishevelled hair lay like a halo on the pillow, her pink lips swollen from his kisses. Her body was shaking and heaving from his touch and her deep blue eyes were staring at him, telling him of her need. He smiled down at the sight, not a smile of superiority or his usually proud smugness, but one of pure happiness at the beautiful creature before him. He watched her mouth his name as his free hand found her centre, his thumb teasing her bud while his fingers played across her entrance. His head descended to her chest as his mouth claimed her untouched breast, his other hand still toying with the first. Legs came around his waist as she pulled herself towards him, wanting more. Positioning himself above her he brought his lips to her neck and entered her. She screamed out at the sensation of him inside of her as he bit her at the base of her neck, lapping the blood mixed with her sweat. Bulma arched her back and dug her fingernails into his back, needing to hold him to her. They started to move together in sync, their bodies in tuned with the other until they went over the edge. Bulma screamed Vegita’s name, while the Prince, not knowing the name of the person he owed this pleasure to, just yelled out. Their cries reverberated off the walls, the noises mixing together to create one climax of sound. The shout eventually died out, the sound of breathless panting in its place. Vegita collapsed onto the bed, rolling off the female under him as not to hurt her. His hands journeying over her side while his head nuzzled into Bulma’s neck, lapping at the sweat on her shoulder and neck, imprinting himself with the sweet smell of her skin and hair. Bulma didn’t have the strength to raise her head but rested it on the pillow under her. Her hands merely stroked the Prince’s back, noting the marks that she had left with her nails. When she finally caught her breath and regained a little strength she kissed the side of his face.

"I think I’ve wounded you again. Should I restart the massage?"

She moaned as his roaming hands cupped her breasts and his tail swept over her leg.

"I guess I’ll take that as a yes." she said before she could not say anything at all.

~~~~~

A silent figure moved through the room as the two men discussed their business, the larger man’s gaze scanning over the serving girl with interest.

"Don’t worry about the girl, she only understands Averalic. Nothing but a worthless slave I purchased from another slaver. Well, Enleo, I assume you have some reason for calling this meeting?"

The large man smirked at the girl before turning his attention to the decrepit being in front of him. Why he was here was a bit of a mystery to himself, but with the disputes along his border and revolts in his territory he didn’t need another enemy out for his blood.

"I came, Gero, to suggest an alliance between us. We have several common enemies, two in particular that would be in out best interest to dispose of quickly."

The white haired slaver was taken back by the announcement, it was unusual to say the least, a gift from the Fates might be a better assessment. It had been ten years ago, ten years since his ordered massacre of Modulus house. A decade since he saw his greatest rival fall and he took the honours of top Scribe, even possesses his rival’s only daughter. It came all crashing down because of her, the little bitch. After he took her into his house as his personal slave, gave her as his personal slave, gave her a home, she escaped with his greatest discovery, well his rival’s but finders keepers.

Since that time he had lost his position and his house, the after effects of a royal family feud. Losing his house and his reputation by the discovery of his involvement in the Modulus massacre he was forced to flee and start a new house in a den of jackals, enemies everywhere. He nearly grit his teeth at the thought of that little blue haired bitch. If he didn’t get her soon, the master would discover that he didn’t have what he promised. Gero’s dark eyes returned to stare at Enleo, his stomach clenched in anger that he, the greatest mind of his generation would have to join forces with a warlord, a barbarian by all accounts. If it wasn’t his very survival at stake he wouldn’t have even let this man into his dwelling but with cut throats all around him he needed all the allies he could get and Enleo was the most powerful warlord in the region.

"Who exactly are you referring to? As far as I knew everyone this side of the Batten Plains was your enemy, could you narrow it down?"

"What do you know of a warrior named ChiChi?"

"What would I care about a half-breed Amazon orphan? She is your great enemy that you have to dispose of?"

"It is not her that I’m afraid of, well not her alone. I was the one who made that bitch an orphan so she’s out for my neck; as if she could do any better than her parents. Still it is not just she that I’m worried about but an ally of hers, someone of great interest to you. The phoenix rises again, Gero, or should I say the eagle of Modulus rises."

"You mean, the Owl’s daughter…"

"And the Wolf’s daughter have joined forces. Now do you see my point? Some half-breed brat is not worth a second of my time but when she joins forces with one of the most intelligent women in Gaia, she then becomes a threat. So I propose an alliance, you get the Modulus woman if you help me with my Amazon. Do we have a deal?"

"Why would I need your help to get what I want? I do have my means and resources." His eyes travelled over to the girl standing allow the wall, her head down and blond hair framing her face.

"Alright then, old man. If you help me take out these two then I’ll offer you the protection of my standard. Consider wisely, Gero, you’re hanging on by a thread, can you really afford another enemy?"

Gero stared back at his guest, an anger in his eyes and a reluctance in his voice as he signed away his life to a barbarian. After Enleo was led to the door he said to the servant girl in a low guttural brogue, "Go get ready to leave soon, I have a special delivery for you to make."

The girl merely nodded her acceptance and stood to leave, her nearly clear eyes meeting Gero’s ice black ones.

~~~~~

The sights and sounds of the festival time filled the immense hall, it was her ninth birthday and her father had this year, as he had every year, spoiled her mercilessly. Colourful tapestries covered the walls, giving splashes of reds, blues and purples to the normal bland white. She ran through the room, past her mother and brother, looking for one person in particular. She looked up, trying to see over the heads of the crowd, until at last he found him in the centre of a group of people. Not caring about her manners or making a scene she ran through a field of legs towards her father. When she made her way through Bulma rushed at him, yelling "‘Tousan" at the top of her lungs. Her small arms wrapped around his legs and she hugged him tightly. Feeling his hand stroke her hair she looked up and screamed. The face of her father was melting away, his features distorting to reveal dark hateful eyes and scraggly white hair. The scary man grabbed her shoulders and held her to him, the small child trying with all her might to get away. She then felt a shackle circle her waist, bolting her to the floor. She pushed with all her might to escape the chain but with every tug the chain became shorter and shorter. The figure in front of her began to melt again, not just his face but his entire body as well, his shape changing into that of an exotic doll. The same dark hateful black eyes stared down at her, her fear of this creature causing her to shake.

"You’ve stolen what is mine and you will pay." With that his hand glowed pure blue and a ball began to form. She knew there was no escape, she would die. She shut her eyes, catching a bare glimpse of gold light before she awoke.

Bulma panted at the horrible nightmare. It was one that she had had for years, the day before the attack. For years after she would awake, screaming for her father, reality hitting her hard when she realised that he would never answer. This one was different, the end was different. What was that creature? What did it want with her? She nearly screamed out when she moved and felt a tug on her waist. It had come true, she had been caught by Gero again, she was going to die, be whipped again, worse. Her hands travelled down to her shackle and sighed when she felt soft fur instead of cold metal. She sat up in her bed and looked over at the sleeping figure in front of her. She immediately relaxed and laid back down on the bed again. Her blue eyes studied the Saiyajin Prince in his slumber, glancing over his facial features. She sighed at the memory of his lips and hands, his touch still over her body, giving her a wonderful warm feeling. Snuggling closer to him she looked at his collar again. She had hated that collar, the very idea of it had sickened her and yet she used it on another. Without thinking, her hand went up to the side and she placed one fingertip on a smooth panel. Bringing herself as close as she could without touching him she whispered into the collar, "Love, Honour, and Devotion." There was a light click and the front of the metal band opened, revealing the Prince’s throat. Bulma kissed the newly exposed flesh, hoping it would not wake him from his slumber. Vegita merely murmured in his sleep and his arms came around to hold her body to his own. Smiling at the unconscious gesture Bulma soon found herself bathed in the blue-white light of Vegita’s aura. The light highlighted his body as it did before; she gasped at the beauty of him bathed in the white glow. Her lips returned to his throat, kissing the skin again as if asking pardon for her sin. This time he murmured louder and fear filled Bulma. She quickly replaced the collar, saddened by the loss of the white light. Kissing his chest, she allowed herself to relax into him and fell asleep.

* * * * *


Table of Contents
Chapter 2
Chapter 4