Disclaimer: As I write these words, a band of highly skilled, blood thirsty, demonic lawyers are waiting in the wings to sue my ass for using the characters of Akira Toryiama. So, as you are all reading this chapter, I am running away to Nepal and becoming a yak.

More Disclaimers: Not one to break with tradition, this chapter contains lemony type stuff, swearing and a lot of violence. If you are under-age, or uncomfortable with these subjects, I would advise not to read this chapter.

Just a reminder that you have to love email with Vegita wall paper and to use the address if you have any comments, questions, or wish to be added to the mailing list.

The rushing wind thundered in her ears, an icy touch again her skin, an unwanted, fearful touch. It wasn’t right, none of it was. Her body could feel but couldn’t react; she was drowning, drowning in a sea of fear. Must fight, can’t give up, just move, just scream, just see. An unnatural glow on the darkest of nights, something is wrong, it’s not supposed to be like this. The thundering stopped, the touch stopped, she didn’t. The wind was whistling now, humming low in her ear, the pitch becoming higher and higher and screaming. The gentle sweeping of the air all around her, she was flying, she was flying; she was FALLING. Rustling of leaves and the snapping of branches all around her, the earth rushing forward to meet her. The cold touch returned, and the unwanted pain as well; the leaves flying off the trees and brushing against her skin and branches scratched her arms and back. Pain and softness and whistling and snapping and rustling, mixing, churning, turning in frenzy, and then, it stops. A soft earthy smell, soft pillow surrounds her now, it’s it over, what is over? Can’t move, can’t speak, only see, what do I see; it’s so dark, have to see the light. Open your eyes, must see, see the truth, the light is still there and there is something in it. A creature, a creature not known by her, a thing she had never seen in all the annals of books she had read. Such a monster, but not a monster; its head is highlighted by the unnatural light of the Moon on a night when the sky is dark, what is going on? That furry head turns; something is hiding behind it, can see it but something else strikes her. Red eyes, eyes like blood turn in her direction and she sees the almost human, almost intelligent smirk on the creature’s lipless mouth. The darkness comes again, taking her strength and the vision blurs to black, all that remains on her weary conscious is a word, the word.

"Vegita."

Bulma gasped and opened her eyes; it was a dream, it was all a dream, she thought as she looked around her sun lit room. The sights and sounds and feelings flooding her consciousness were so real, broken and twisted but she could still smell the dampness of the moss, and hear that wind whipping past her ears.

The lilting song of the lark outside brought a smile to her face, the soft warm breeze from the open window another reminder she was safe in her bed, in the light; it was all just a dream. The warmth of the bed beckoned to her again and she closed her eyes, willing her responsibilities miles away, nothing getting between her and this bed. Stretching out with her arms above her head, a satisfied sigh escaped her lips. Snuggling into the cosy sheets, her senses caught a smell off of the silken coverings; the wonderful smell of her Saiyajin Prince and the faint scent of coupling mixed with her own. Her memory of the night before in this bed with his highness bloomed in her mind and a mischievous smile crossed her lips. Slowly opening her eyes, she gazed over at the other side of the bed, hoping to see his sleeping face fill her vision. Disappointment marred her sparkling blue eyes; her hands felt out the spot where he had laid only the night before, the heat off his perfectly sculpted body still warming the sheets. Letting out a little whimper of displeasure, she absently rolled from her back to her stomach and to her back again, the bed suddenly seeming too big and empty. Stretching out once again, the blissful tug of sleep still pulling on her brain, she wondered to herself why Dazu had taken him to the Kennel. She had, from after he defeated her in Kaissa, made it that he may never sleep in a cage, earning his right to a bed and not a pen. Where would they have taken him? Sighing again, she looked out the open window, getting glimpses of the outside world when the flowing curtain parted. Funny, they almost never opened the window in the mornings, only when I’ve left to air out the room. Sitting up in the bed, allowing the sheet to fall to her lap and glanced about the room, looking for anything more that was out of place. Gasping in shock, her eyes fell on the figure of her earlier thoughts, his eyes seeming to burn out of the few shadows that escaped the sun’s touch. Her sleepy smile returned to her lips and she allowed herself to fall to the bed again. Shifting herself around, she supported her head on her hand and allowed her eyes to devour his body. The events of last night were still blurred in her mind, even the details of her waking dream were turning fuzzy under the light of day. She remembered only standing in his strong warm embrace, touching every part of his strong back, that chiselled face, his hard yet scarred chest. He had been equally explorative with her as well, tracing out every curve and inch of her body with his fingers, mouth and tongue. His ministrations had left her breathless and she could do no more than stroke and admire his beautiful body as he took away all the concerns from her head. A giddy laugh sounded from her lips as her thoughts continued to what they could do today to take her mind off her responsibilities. Ignoring him, she playfully allowed a little leg to show as she slipped out of the bed, taking one of the loose sheets with her. Glancing back at him, she walked seductively towards her closet, pouting that he still had that hard look on his face and had yet to address her.

"You gave me rather a start this morning, I didn’t know where you were; nasty thing, hiding on me like that. I don’t understand the great desire some seem to have to face the day; I can’t think of anything more wonderful than spending the day in bed, can you?" Turning away, her pouting lips took on an indignant frown at his still silent state. Ignoring his disobedience against his Mistress, she continued to walk towards the closet, a mischievous glint in her eyes as she spotted the crumpled robe on carpet.

"Well, if you do not wish to join me in bed, would you join me in a bath, there is more than enough room for two. And, if I may suggest, ‘your highness’, breakfast and a game of Kaissa, don’t think I will allow you to have a victory over me." Feeling the heat of his stare on her sheet covered body, she allowed the meagre cover to fall to the floor, stretching out once more and glancing back. A gasp again caught in her throat at his nearness, her sapphire eyes staring directly into his obsidian, his warm breath disturbing the delicate hairs on the back of her neck. Recovering quickly from her shock, she gave him her back and a litany of curses under her breath at his disrespectful display. She was caught in mid tirade when his arm snaked around her waist and his tail against her upper thigh, drawing her body against his own. A slight grin replaced the frown and she wiggled in his grip, sighing at the gentleness of his touch. Gasps and groans of delight followed as his hands moved to massage her breasts and his tail stroked her inner thigh. Trying to turn to face him, thinking only of kissing those seductive lips, she was met with a barrier as he held her in place, bringing her even closer against his body. His warm breath began to move up her neck to caress her ear, his teeth taking her lobe in his mouth.

"Did you enjoy the Full Moon last night?" he grunted softly in her ear, the gravity of his words lost on her when his hands touched her body.

"How did you know what I dreamt last night?" Her words were low and soft, her reason slowly melting away.

"Because I was there." he whispered back, the cold mysterious tone of his voice shooting through Bulma like a bolt of lightning. She broke from her revelry and forced herself out of his grip, the once welcoming touch of her lover sent shivers of fear down her spine. Spinning around to face him, her hair whipped around her head, blurring her vision. The first thing she saw was his eyes, that calm deadly look that could turn even the bravest of fighters to stone and that smug smirk of assured victory. Oh, dear Fates, no. It was a dream, it had to be, I was flying in the arms of a man, a cold man, and Vegita was there too, and I screamed his name. By the Fates, it was all a dream. It took all her will power not to scream out at the sight of his neck; smooth, with thick corded muscles, his naked olive skin glowing in the bright morning light. Fear as she had never known it spread through her very being; even Gero and his wrath would be nothing compared with this being’s. Bulma’s breath came out in gasps and she took hesitant steps backwards, thinking only of putting as much distance as she could from the now free Saiyajin.

"Is something wrong, ‘Mistress’, you seemed to wish for my company earlier, has something changed your mind? It is not that the brave woman is scared, though I do like the smell of fear on you; makes you easy to track down. Are you upset now that your new pet has escaped your grasp? Do not fear, woman, I do not intend to take you now, I may take a few days to destroy you or an eternity but know that you have incurred my wrath, bitch, and the debt will be repaid, over and over again." Vegita smirked at the look of abject terror in those soul stealing blue eyes, the wave of pure triumph at the look of defeat in her eyes was overwhelming his blood almost more than the thrill of battle. Well, this was a battle, it always had been with her, their verbal sparring, their games on that wooden playing field of hers, in their looks between one another, and in their love making, always one over the other, seeking mastery over the other. The battle was over; he had won. His pure black eyes bore into her shimmering blue; she was backing away from him, as if she could escape him, the greatest warrior and hunter of his line, of all of Vegitasei. Well, there is no time like the present to start her punishment. Walking towards her, the casual, easy weight of his step a counter to the hurried frantic movements of the woman in front of him, little whimpers falling from her lips. Taking a few huge strides, he grabbed her again, pulling her naked body against his own. His hand skimmed down her back and she winced lightly as he stroked and squeezed her buttocks, a flash of concern blinking to life in his eyes only to die away in the sadistic smirk. Time to let the little wench know who is in control, he thought, and his hand skimmed down to her womanhood. At the feeling of his hand near her centre, Bulma came back to her self, struggling against his grip and kneeing him in the groin. The Saiyajin Prince bit back a cry of pain and lifted his hand, preparing to strike her down for her insolence.

"Strike me, creature. Anything would be better than being touched by a killer, a monster. Hit me, I’d rather die than have the hands of a filthy animal on me."

At her comment, Vegita lowered his hand; even with her back against the wall she fought back. A look of calm and hope flickered on the woman’s face, can’t have that, he reasoned. His lowered hand once again reached out and grabbed her chin, a hint of gentleness in his touch.

"Oh, don’t think I will let you out that easy, ‘Mistress’, not when I now have you. You aren’t one for fair play, are you little one, now that you have lost the advantage you are not willing to take what is coming." He breathed into her ear, the gentle seductive aura surrounded him again and Bulma almost felt her insides melt at the words that promised her doom. His head descended to hers and she tried to turn her head away, his finger keeping it in place.

"Many have felt known my wrath, but you, wench, will know what almost none have ever seen. Slowly, will your punishment come, ever will you be questioning, fearing, wondering when it will come, when it will end." His lips were now brushing her temple with an aching slowness, affection in his touch and tone completely countering the words. Bulma could do nothing more than stand still before him again; fear, apprehension, desire, betrayal swirled through her head, the conflict feelings sending her into turmoil. Her mind working frantically and yet she felt sluggish, her thoughts and body imprisoned in lethargy.

"Stop it, let go of me. I would rather die than be touched by you." Her once shrill voice was nothing more than a hoarse whisper, her sadness and anger evident in her tone. Last night, the hands on her body, the unnatural light, the flying, the falling, that giant creature; it was all real.

"Did all those nights together mean nothing, you certainly screamed and moaned like it did. Such an easy fuck, definitely not without your charms. An experience whore like you would fetch a good price in a slave market, something I’m sure you are aware of. Don’t worry, I won’t let anyone have you until I am done with you; by then though, you may truly wish to die." The soft caresses of his lips and hands turned painful as his teeth broke the skin of her neck and his hands descended to her back, pressing into a pressure point. An overwhelming stabbing ache swept through her, the strength falling from her limbs at the sensations on her back and at her neck. Sensing her obvious discomfort, Vegita smiled into the crook of her shoulder and began to suck the blood that flowed from the wound, the finger on her back still pressing into the painful nerve cluster. The stunning agony she felt at his touch was completely countered by his lips on her neck, the two melding as one that compelled her away and towards him. The jolts of pleasure shot through her, causing her body to react, the pain causing her body to tense up. Her entire being was rebelling against itself and all she could do was moan loudly in the back of her throat; half begging him to stop, half pleading to continue. The Saiyajin stiffened at the sound; he heard the guards approaching the door for their rounds and the noises would definitely make them interrupt his fun. Pulling his lips from her neck, she gasped in pain as the pressing on her back overwhelmed her senses. Damn it, he thought as he pressed on the point harder, cries and whimpers of pain replacing the gasps and moans of before. Glancing at the partly opened door, he sighed, and lessened the pressure on her back, hearing the guards’ feet quickly approaching the door at the sound of their ‘Mistress’ in distress. Oh well, nothing better to prove to her and everyone else in this place whom they were dealing with.

"Did you enjoy that? It’s only a small taste of what is in store for you."

Breath ragged from the his unwanted touch, Bulma looked at her former slave with a scowl; how dare he think she was not without her defences, her powers. She was smarter than him, she had to think of something. She watched him approach her again with frantic eyes, the stinging sensation in her back and the certain possibility of worse to come causing her to back away in fear.

"You fucking animal, I swear to Hell that if you touch me I’ll call for my guards. If you liked the collar I’m sure you would love the little gadgets I created for them." Bulma said still slowly stepping back away from him. Swallowing hard, it took all her strength just to keep her knees from shaking and her voice from cracking.

"You weren’t thinking that earlier, all you seemed to want is for me to touch you; what do you except from a little bitch though. So fickle, and weak. Please, little one, call on your guards, not that I think it would do you much good. I would love to see that scarred one of yours; I have a score to settle with him." And with that, he blinked out of sight. Bulma nearly fell to the floor when the Saiyajin disappeared; her courage was waning with every minute, zapping away her strength as well. Her eyes darted about the room, where was he? She continued to back away towards the door, hoping to make a break for the hall and possibly warn the house of his escape. He had to save her people, she had brought this scourge against them; she whimpered in shame when she thought of Yamcha’s continued warnings, all ignored. What had she done, the needless deaths and suffering that would come, all of those threats he had promised upon all of them, all because of her greed. The room was deceptively quiet; the steady panting of her breathing the only sound that existed in the once beautiful sanctuary. Bulma’s ears perked up as another fainting noise drew her attention; footsteps, the guards were making their rounds. Thoughts of freedom leapt into her mind and she ran for the door, uncaring of her nakedness. She was about to yell out when she hit a wall, a hard warm wall, made of smooth flesh and rock hard arms that grabbed her. She screamed as he caught her again, the glint of sadistic delight at her fear evident in those obsidian eyes.

"My Lady, My lady Bulma. What is the matter?" A young man yelled out and she paled as two young guards quickly ran into the room, completely unarmed and unaware of the danger they had put themselves in. Vegita obviously understood as his hand began to caress her back once more, his attention purely on her, ignoring the other two presence in the room.

"Go on, little one, call out for them to help you. Do you doubt your highly vaulted protection, one the you threatened me with so? If they are anything like the ones I fought before, I would have great reason to doubt them. Please, go ahead and call them, they are waiting for their ‘Mistress’’ command."

"Get your filthy hands off of the Mistress!" The first young man shouted, aiming his weapon and prepared to fire. Before Bulma could even reason what was happening, Vegita had raised his finger and shot a tiny ball of his once repressed ki at the unsuspecting man, slicing through his brain like paper. Bulma screamed again and her legs lost their strength as she fell to her knees, her breath coming out in hurry gasps as she stared in disgusted fascination at the dead man.

"Tell him, tell him, ‘Mistress’’, who his new Master is. Tell him, bitch, he and the rest of this Kami damned house is waiting for your order."

"How dare you speak to the Mistress like that!" The one remaining guard yelled out, forgetting about his friend and what had happened but moments ago. The man took another step in, causing the Saiyajin to smirk and another sphere began to form in his hand.

"No! Stop! Please don’t hurt him, don’t hurt my people. Whatever you want, whatever you want of me, take it just don’t take these people’s lives. Any ills they may have done you were in my name, please don’t punish them for my crimes."

The guard blanched at Bulma’s comment, disbelieving of what he was hearing. His Mistress was begging this, monkey tailed freak, as the Master called him, to let her people be. Looking again at the dark creature before him, dread filled him; the collar was missing. That moment of hesitation and recognition was more than enough for him to lose his nerve, making him remember what happened to his friend not a few moments ago. The smug Saiyajin saw that look and smirked at the human’s fear, at least they caught on fast, though not fast enough.

"You should learn to respect royalty, human; now take this woman to the Kennels." The man hesitated again, looking down at his petrified Mistress for a sign of what he should do.

"Do what he says, please, just do whatever he wants." She whispered, look of defeat in her proud blue eyes, almost more than he could stand.

"Yes … Master." The guard said, walking past the corpse of his friend and gently tugging his Lady to her feet. Picking the sheet off of the floor, he gave it to her to hide her nakedness, to preserve her dignity. He watched the woman begin to shake as the Saiyajin growled and grabbed the sheet away from her and burning the cloth in his hand.

"You presume too much, maggot. I want the little whore to walk through this house naked, did I not tell you, ‘Mistress’, an eye for an eye. You will know what it feels like to have your dignity, your pride stripped away to nothing, you will know what you put me through." The creature said once more, staring daggers at the frightened woman. To her credit, Bulma stared back; it was not a punishment now, she reasoned, but a sacrifice to save this house, her people, her father’s dream.

"Go, take her away. And fetch someone to clean this mess." Vegita called out, to the guard before the man nodded and gently led Bulma out of the door. A muted whimper escaped her lips as she stared down into the pained face of her dead defender; his formerly dirty blond hair was sticky and red with blood, his soft brown eyes forever staring out in terror, staring through her as if condemning her for his death. She stumbled out of the room, her mind numb as her body went into shock, unable to deal with what had happened in only twenty minutes.

Vegita watched as his tormentor silently walked out of the room, her power wiped away by the absence of her pathetic machine; though that spirit, that fire still burned out of her for a moment or two. He didn’t want to snuff it out, well not yet. He appreciated and admired that fire, so Saiyajin, so like himself, it would be a challenge to break her, though he had definitely found a few weak points in her armour. Oh well, the best victories must be savoured slowly, and he had a house to bend to his will.

"Oi, servant," he called out to one of the many people who had congregated around the door, the screams and shouts catching the attention of more of the servants. "Prepare the bath and some food, and bring me some clothes, the body suit and armour. And get whoever lives in this house and have them meet with me after I finish my meal. I think I should officially introduce myself to my new slaves. Go!" He screamed out and the frightened servants scattered, one running in the direction of the bathing chamber, one to the kitchen. I guess I’ll get more than a new pet, he thought as he walked out and down to the bathing chamber.

~~~~~

"What?"

"I said, Lord Gero, that last night did not go as planned. I’m afraid the woman and the creature escaped."

"And this occurred, because a giant monkey attacked them?"

"No, sir, Juuhachi, said that the Saiyajin turned into a giant monkey and attacked her and killed her brother. She was barely conscious when she returned to the nest."

"I’m so sorry for her loss, I’m sure blood suckers form very tight bonds, particularly on the neck. And what was the last part of this magnificent story, oh yes, the Full Moon that caused this creature to transform. Now that part I find difficult to believe, since this was the only night in twelve years were there is no Moon light!" Gero screamed, his patience with the young messenger vampire running drastically thin. He couldn’t believe that his plan, his perfectly organised plan had failed, and quite miserably. The pale youth with hair as red as blood growled at the old decrepit mortal that dared to insult his people.

"What happened to the collar?" He asked, as he finally inquired about the state of his greatest concern and to get the blood sucker back on track. The woman will be killed later, the Master could capture the beast, but the collar, the collar was one of a kind. The informant hadn’t mentioned any other copies, it was a miracle that one even existed, he had only managed to produce a crude prototype before the girl snatched it. That she had actually been able to create something that refined out of her father’s theories and his tinkerings, maybe she was a genius; nothing compared with himself of course.

"I’m afraid, sir, that the collar was destroyed when the creature … expanded."

"Well, what are you going to do about it? I was promised success and from the amounts of money and ‘food’ that I have provided for your little nest, I expect results. I want that girl."

"I have been told to inform you that the Black Daggers have abandoned your contract. You can have your money back, Gero, nothing is worth the loss of one of our best assassins, especially against some weak slip of a girl."

"Well," Gero sneered, walking through the darkened room and sat at his desk, the curtain drawn windows behind his back. "If I can’t have service rendered I guess you’ll have to just take your payment." The pale skinned youth murmured a word of confusion before Gero parted the curtain. The room flooded with the harsh light of the late morning sun and the youth’s confused murmur turned to a howl of pain as his body began to burn and melt at the unbearable heat. Cold clear eyes watched disinterestedly as the once solid body of the male before him disintegrated into a pile of dust. Turning in his chair, he growled at another failure, yet another opportunity to capture that little bitch had slipped through his fingers. Well, she wouldn’t escape the next time, at least he had now found his scapegoat. It wouldn’t look very good, losing the collar to a nothing assistant with a thing for tails but it would definitely take the heat off him. She might have had lucky before but she would never escape the wrath of the Master. He should probably send out scouts to search the area, at least if he had pieces of the thing he might be able to make the story stick. Better inform that barbarian Enleo that the raid failed; maybe later, much much later. The last thing he wanted to think about right now was dealing with that moronic imbecile. A light knock broke his revelry.

"Enter."

His piercing eyes centred on the quick figure that opened the door, the familiar look of fear that existed on nearly all his slaves’ faces evident on the light skinned red haired man, blue eyes staring out in uncertainty. If Gero had not known better, he would have swore that the man in front of him and the pile of dust on floor were brothers.

"My, my lord, someone is here to see you, a man in armour."

Damnit, Enleo is a less trusting ally then I had thought, I guess I’ll have to inform him of the last ace up my sleeve.

"Fine, show him to the common room and get someone to clean up this mess. Also, send out a search party through the Fryhle woods. I want any kind scrap metal or any piece of electronics you can find. Send Solomons out with them, if the worthless things can’t find anything, let him make wolf bait out of them."

"As, as you command, ssssirrr." The young man shuttered, gazing down at the dust pile before exiting to the relative safety of the hallway. Gero smirked at the retreating figure, if he played his cards right, he might just get out of the insanity on top.

~~~~~

ChiChi stretched and yawned, the late rays of the morning sun waking her as it had the day before. Giddiness overcame her as she thought of herself becoming a late sleeper after years and years of rising before dawn. She had once wondered why Bulma had ever taken lovers, never understanding the desire to allow a man to take such power over you. She had always thought it a weakness to allow a male so close, she had wondered how her mother had allowed and welcomed her father’s control over the Amazonian queen’s life. Now, smelling that clean strong scent of her lover, she felt a closeness to her mother, a greater understanding of her pride and the love she must have felt for her father. Rolling around between the sheets, she thought of her parents together, pondering their relationship, if they fought like this when they first met, her father had won her mother in much the same way as Kakarott had won her, I wonder if he won her over the same way. Scoffing at herself for being sentimental and blinded by her hormones, that man, Saiyajin, was nothing like her father. He was arrogant, stubborn, egotistical, pig headed, but he did make up for it with those hands and lips and tail of his. He had a wonderful sense of humour, a carefree nature about him, such a departure from her own seriousness. She could remember now he had loved to make her laugh, tickling her until she pleaded with him to stop. Stretching out her warm limbs, she yawned again, debating whether to get up or just laze in bed, the dreamy euphoria of memory and sleep filling her head, taking away her cares. It was almost comforting to have someone else train her men, another leader for them to look up to, another person to take the burden of the house, the responsibility that she had carried on her slight shoulders for the last four years. She had, in the last two nights, begun to accept him, it wasn’t as if she could fight him in strength; but if he thought he could keep her from the battle field, he had another thing coming. It was time she fought for her position in this house, her mother had been an equal to her father and she would be damned if she took anything less from any man. Sitting up in the bed, she stretched her arms above her head, and yawned again, forcing down the chains of sleep from her mind. Looking out into the sun drenched sky, she berated herself again for sleeping so late; the morning training would be just finishing up, what a better time to show that arrogant ass who is messing with then in front of everyone. They might not be my men in name anymore but they are mine in spirit and they will fight to have me as part of this house. That thought firmly in her mind, she leapt from the bed and walked towards the showers, when the door of her chamber banged open, the shock and sound startling her. Her alarm turned to anger as she saw the murderous face of the tall dark haired Saiyajin before, her earlier forgiveness forgotten to his utter rudeness.

"How dare you come into this chamber without knocking, are all of you Saiyajins so moronic that you don’t even understand basic curtsey?"

"Shut up!" Kakarott yelled back, the familiar glint of child like mischief dead in his eyes. "You conniving, lying bitch, how dare you say anything about curtsey. You lied to me, not once but twice, about the whereabouts of a certain pod and that pod’s occupant. Think, you little bitch, think really hard."

"You brainless moron, how dare you say such words to a warrior, a true warrior; not some member of a barbaric race of space pirates."

"You speak of honour, you little slut, or truth, those are just words to you, you know nothing about the crap you spout. You lie about your experience, not that you were a very good fuck anyway and now I have finally encountered the Prince that you said did not exist on this planet. Not only that but I saw the full Moon last night, on the night that the men had said one did not exist. Tell me where the pod is, or I swear to Kami that you will never know peace until the day you die."

ChiChi paled at the pure rage in his tone, never had he spoken to her like this, the barely controlled anger that glowed from his eyes made her weak at the knees. The remembrance of her earlier thoughts about him nearly brought tears to her eyes, how could she have been so stupid as to forget what he was, what he could easily do to her, to this house and whole planet if he wished. These Saiyajins threatened the whole existence of Gaia and she had gladly went to this monster’s bed, begged for him to touch and pleasure her. Shame and guilt welled up in her, choking her voice into nothing more than a low throaty whimper. The twitching of the enraged man’s furry brown length signalled to her his growing impatience with her, but even the sure threat of pain and torture were not enough to break through the veil of guilt that fell over her.

"If you won’t give me any Kami damn answers then I’ll find someone who will." He snarled and mind numbing pain shot through her as he grabbed her by her long flowing hair and dragged her down the corridors, naked and trembling with agony. Finding her voice once more, she screamed at the top of her lungs at him, damning and cursing his race and swearing revenge on him and his descendants, not resting until every last trace of his blood flowed freely at her feet. Her insults earned her nothing more than stony silence and a harder tug on her scalp, ChiChi was sure she had lost some hair with that pull. As the pain increased, so did her screams and struggles as they walked through the empty halls. Making their way through the familiar corridors and corners, it suddenly dawned on her that they were headed for the throne room, the arena, the morning exercises. Screaming her head off, she re-doubled her efforts to escape, thrashing about in his grip and grasping for his tail, looking for any weak point she could. He was going to use her to make her men tell him where the pod was, where Sar’in and Thak was, and that would be at best. Thoughts of using her as an example, of beating and torturing and who knew what else in front of every man in that house to show them what happened to those who did not obey. A shutter of unbridled panic shook her small frame and she gave one final cry of agony before the furious Saiyajin kicked the huge hall doors opened and threw her across the floor. She landed in a heap in the middle of the room, curling into a tight ball and wrapping her arms around herself in an attempt to cover her nakedness from the hundreds of staring eyes.

"My Lord, what is going on? You were not here for the morning training and now you come storming in carrying our Mistress, naked I might add. Could you please inform us of what happened to you?" Kreden asked as he stepped out of the crowd, throwing a look of concern over to the shamed ChiChi before knelling to his Saiyajin Master.

"Where is it?"

"Where is what, My Lord?"

"The pod, the small round craft that is in this house. I know you are hiding it from me; I don’t care why, just bring it to me or she dies right here." Kakarott said, his voice and eyes, once burning with rage were devoid of all life and emotion. ChiChi shuttered again at the hard empty look in his eyes, it was like nothing she had ever seen from him, those coal black eyes had always shone with life, humour, anticipation, desire or rage but he was all business now.

"My Lord, please, I don’t know what you are talking about, a space pod? That we would actually have something like that here and not tell you, you could never doubt our loyalty." Kreden replied, where he excelled in battle he was a failure as a liar, the forced unconvincing nature of his words a dead give away that only seemed to make the Saiyajin more calm, a deadly calm. That yellow light surrounded him again, only to disappear, forming a tiny ball that glowed through the spaces between his large fingers.

"Tell me where the pod is."

"I’m afraid, sir, that I don’t know what you are talking about."

A second of anger burned through the stony cold nothingness of his eyes at Kreden’s answer, quickly replaced by that business like stare.

"If you will not tell me then I will just make you tell me." Kakarott said and in so doing threw the tiny ball at the huddled figure of ChiChi, causing her to wince and close her eyes, hoping the pain would be quick and merciful. Gasps of awe and wonder echoed through the room and her mahogany eyes opened to a beautiful yellow light that surrounded her body. Relief flooded through her that she was still alive and she gazed in fascination at the orb that encompassed her body. The slight currents of air that forever flowed through the giant room whispered against her naked skin, and the warm smoothing heat off the sphere’s walls was a comfort against the cold stone.

"Tell me, or she dies." Kakarott stated again, dispassionate in this plea as he had been with all the ones before.

"Sir, I know not what you are saying." Kreden spoke again, earning a nod from the Saiyajin and a frightened gasp from the orb’s occupant. The yellow hollow ball was getting smaller, collapsing in on itself, shrinking ever second.

"Tell me where it is." The sphere began to take on the space of a humanoid and still it grew smaller.

"My, my, my, my Lord." Kreden replied, his nervousness at the spectacle before his eyes was evident in his voice. The humanoid space became more defined, moulding into the soft curves of a female, shrinking to assume the woman’s form, always shrinking.

"Tell me." A cry of panic was emitted from the ball, ended quickly with a choked out cry.

"Please, stop this." Kreden pleaded with the stoic man, the sphere so defined that features of her face could be discerned, frozen in a silent scream as the walls began to compress her lungs.

"Stop!!!" Kreden finally shouted, but still the yellow shape continued to shrink.

"Tell me." Kakarott replied, waiting for the shaken general to react.

"Find the Modulus slaves and bring them to the throne room," The semi composed man said to two of the soldiers next to him. Kakarott lightly smirked at Kreden’s capitulation and the bright yellow aura that had enveloped the woman dissipated and she sprawled on the ground, her modesty an after thought as she frantically filled her empty lungs.

"Please, My Lord Kakarott, you promise not to harm the Mistress if we give you the slaves."

"Kreden, no, please don’t do this. I order you to stop this."

"Presuming little wench, aren’t you. This is none of your concern; you have no power over these men, just a weakness of their former existence that must be beaten out. As you are now my property, I will deal with you as I wish."

"How dare you call me a piece of property, I created the house that you now ‘rule’, I am not some weak pathetic chit that can be bullied and tossed aside when you find no use in me." ChiChi screamed, her pride and dignity shredded by his taunts and his treatment of her, and still she fought to prove him wrong, to him, the whole house and herself.

"I call you what I like, by your own laws did I win you, and can’t return you, it seems. You lost your house by the same circumstance, you should learn better than to challenge true fighters, wench."

She was about to throw out another punch in their verbal sparring match when the hall grew nervous, attention turned from the two combatants in the middle to the two new comers at the door. The Saiyajin’s eyes grew cold and probing once again, their gaze drifting off her and on to the kneeling figures of the two frightened teches. Frightened was beyond the word, as ChiChi gasped in shock at the state that Bulma’s servants were in, Thak shaking like a leaf, eyes a contrast of confusion and painful knowledge. Sar’in wasn’t much better, as he writhed along the ground, as if in pain; clutching his eyes and moaning about the burning light.

"Who are these men?" the Saiyajin asked, his lips curling in disgust at the display of weakness before him.

"They are teches, sir. Technical slaves from the house of Modulus who came here to work on the first pod. The occupant of that first pod found its way to Modulus and the Mistress Bulma; what she did with it I’m not sure. Afterwards, there was a call to find a spacecraft, or anything suspicious in the forests North of the Le Fort cliffs. The pod was there, this small metallic ball, and it was brought here. The Lady of Modulus sent out these men later that month to come examine the pod, intent on coming herself before news of the alliance between Enleo and Gero became known to us."

"Take that one," Kakarott said, pointing to the moaning Sar’in, "To where the pod is being kept; I will be along to question him. Take those two to the Kennels, I don’t need to see any more of this piece of trash today." he continued, his stare hard and impassive on the snarling ChiChi.

"As you wish, My Lord." Kreden replied and the three were removed from his sight. ChiChi watched in silent agony as her own men dragged her from her own hall, much more gently than the Saiyajin had dragged her in.

"Stop, I’m not some weakling or animal that I cannot walk under my own power." she spoke low in her throat and they stopped and allowed her to her feet. The shame of her nakedness welled up in her and it took all her courage to walk with a ramrod straight back, not hiding anything from the room’s view. She didn’t look back at the man who had brought her such delight the night before, but kept her back to the creature that had stripped her of her dignity, a single tear falling down her cheek as she left the spacious hall for the stuffiness of the corridor. She thought of the love her parents had found and another tear fell from her devastated eyes, knowing that she would never find anything like it.

~~~~~

Fear was addictive, Vegita surmised as he looked upon the several dozen occupants of the grand marble hall, savouring the taste and smell of their terror. From his first dose as a child with the first indication of his true potential he was hooked; delighting in his power over others ever since. By Kami, the last time he had received a jolt like this was, was on Prevedere, much, much too long ago. Giving a particularly vicious snarl and menacing swinging his tail, he was rewarded with several high pitched whimpers and that intoxicating smell once more. Chuckling at himself, he decided to put such pleasantries aside for the moment; something he would be doing more his fair share of when he ascended to the throne. All the more reason to enjoy the freedom while I can.

"You, bitch, step forward." the freed Saiyajin commanded to one the younger female slaves, the only one in the room that didn’t seem paralysed with fear. As much as the Prince appreciated fear, it made most creatures incapable of anything productive and their inability to do what he desired annoyed him to no end. Looking to either side of her, a glint of mischief in her eyes, the girl played an obvious false sense of surprise and separated herself from the crowd. Snarling again when she demonstrated no show of respect, if it not for the fact that she was undoubtedly the only one of these pathetic weaklings who could tell him anything, she would be nothing more than a pile of ashes on the floor.

"What is this, bitch, you should know to respect your betters, especially your Master."

"I’m sorry, but I look at only the Mistress of Modulus as my Master, unless she has decided to dye her hair and eyes black and grew a penis, among other things, in the last twelve hours, you are just some man who happens to be standing at her throne. Besides, I’m addressed as girl or Dessai, I never go by my middle name."

If the shock to the point that one could knock him over with a feather at being addressed in such a way hadn’t stunned the mighty Saiyajin no Ouji the girl would definitely have been a pile of ash on the floor. Yet, as the disrespectful yet soft toned words rolled off her tongue and into his brain, his sense of his own superiority puffed out around him, as did his tail, and he snarled again. He held his tongue against the screaming commands of his arrogance by his even weightier pride, knowing that if he killed her, she would have had a victory over him. The thought almost turned him cold, losing to a slip of a girl with a power level of ten.

"Ah, so I see you were the house fool, I’m not really one for the lower forms of entertainment, though I’m sure you would be just as funny in the arena."

"I’m afraid we have no arena or violent animals for which I could be bait. I would suggest the insects in the cellar but I don’t think they could give me a good come-on." A snicker followed the line, as one of the guards cracked a small smile. Dessai’s eyes glowed at the sound, always the jokester or the troublemaker she had entered the life of a slave early on. More than once, when she was scared, hurt and alone she had that gift, that quick wit and the sound of laughter at her antics, which she could wrap around herself, to comfort herself. Trials had made her mind and tongue sharp, it was her coping mechanism, and once again she had to call upon it to help her survive.

"I wouldn’t worry about it, chit, I’m sure I can find a suitable place for you."

"Indeed I think you could find a good place, if fact when I find you someone named chit you can put she there all you wish." Dessai replied with almost childlike enthusaism. Again another small laugh broke through the wall of silence behind her and a growl from the walking terror in front of her. She didn’t know what possessed her to play the fool right now, only instinct and adrenaline flowed through her veins and if she couldn’t fight, she would laugh.

"Are you the only representative of this house or have all those that thought so highly of themselves lost their tongues."

"If they had lost them, sir, I swear it is not I that took them. If you wish, we could have them open their mouths so I could check."

Even Vegita had to chuckle at that one, though his exterior never wavered. Taking his gaze off the girl he scanned the room of faces once more, checking every visage for spiky hair, black eyes and deep scars. He had called the heads of every group, along with dozens of the lower ranks to the room on the premise of testing their loyalty. As if he would care if they were loyal or not, those that were insolent would be killed, those that lived would learn and obey as had always been the way between the Saiyajins and their slaves. When his search did not bare fruit, he turned his attention back to the girl with the viper tongue. In all his dealings with servants and slaves never had he encountered anything like her; instead of the promise of revenge and the sworn oath of defiance she used humour and jokes to express her insubordination and at the same time her capitulation.

"Then answer me this question, GIRL," he replied, putting strict emphasis on the pronoun. "Where is that cowardly ‘Master’ of the guards, has this house no defence other than you and your non-ending chatter?"

"If I were this palace’s only defence, then long ago would we have been invaded by the lovers of good humour. As for the whereabouts of the walking ego, I have not seen him since his oh so deserving defeat a few days ago, though I heard he was involved in some commotion last night."

"Then tell me where your ever stoic head servant is, I’m sure the man would probably go green at the thought of such a mouthy GIRL taking his place as head of the slaves." At this the girl’s challenging brown eyes lost that comedic glow and her gaze fell to the floor.

"I’m sure he is ashamed, but there is nothing he can do able it in this stage, sir. He died, was stabbed after sun set by a double agent of Okazaki. The woman then tried to attack the Mistress and was stopped by Yamcha, or I have been told, resulting in the traitor’s death."

An unexpected pang of rage welled up in the Saiyajin at these words, remembering the night before and the state the woman and been in when he held her in his arms. Crushing the unwanted emotion down into the recesses of his mind, he continued with his questioning.

"So, it seemed as if the Mistress was not the deity of infinite respect that she made herself out to be as, you mean there was one not so enamoured by her very presence that they could actually think of doing her ill. What paragons of virtue are the fallen, we remember all of these triumphs and none of their vices."

"She was not a saint by any stretch of the imagination; but she was wise and good to us, a better ‘owner’ than you could hope to be." Dessai spat out, the Saiyajin’s inquiries and crude comments opening the old wounds of slavehood and rubbing salt in the new ones of loss. If I hadn’t kept him so long with his questioning he might not have died, if I had kept him longer, he might not of either, played over in her mind as she squared her shoulders and prepared for another round.

"How naïve you are to think I care at all whether I am a good Master or not, I will require services from you and after that, you will be nothing but target practice and objects for my amusement. I will start with the pitiful warriors of this house, where is their leader?"

"I told you, I know not. I have not met many Princes so you will have to tell me, is all royalty this incontinent or is it a particular trait of your kind?"

"Then who is the new one?" Vegita bit back, trying to hold his monumental temper steady.

"I would not know, sir, since the defection of our fearless Head Guard another has not taken his place."

"Then answer me why, bitch, and don’t think your little play on names will win you any praise this time."

"It is voted on by the guards and their choice taken to the head council of the house."

"And why have they not made a decision?"

"Because, sir, you have robbed us of the chairwoman and death has robbed us of the other."

"Fine. You there, maggot," the Prince called out, pointing at one of the guards that had been laughing at Dessai’s performance. "Gather together all those worthless carcasses you have the nerve to call warriors and assemble them in the training room in an hour’s time. This house is now a residence of the future King of the Saiyajins and the royal guard shall be chosen as if this were Vegitasei. Go, and see that everything is as I have ordered it. Now!" The man, frozen under that intense obsidian gaze, sprang to life at the barked order, though not without bowing his respect at the door.

"Now, who among you is the head of the techs? As backwater as your little planet is, it has some interesting gadgetry. I wish for training devices as soon as possible."

"I’m afraid that again I cannot grant your request; the heads of our technical sector is not present."

"And why not, did this one run away with that fortune telling bitch?"

"I don’t know if it was together but the Bruha ran away last night, after all the commotion but our head tech has been gone for well over a week now. He is at an ally’s, investigating your pod. Of course, the grand master tech is still here, though whether SHE will build anything for you would be at her discretion."

"Is there anything in this house that that little blue haired wench does not do?" Vegita shouted, his annoyance with the never ending displeasing answers building with every minute.

"She does not clean, cook, or organise shifts but those are about the only decisions that are not made from on high. Anything else you request, sir."

"Yes, see to the burial of the dead, let it not be said I will not honour the dead."

"Yes, sir, you honour them by creating more." A stony silence fell over the room, those last few words hanging in the hollow air, almost echoing in Dessai’s ears. The Saiyajin did no more than straighten his already formal posture and narrow those hell black eyes. Faster than a blink of Dessai’s eye, a hot stabbing pain nicked her ear and she felt a draft at the back of her neck. Looked to the ground, three long locks of her maroon red hair were littered on the ground and a tiny black sot hole marred the perfectly white wall.

"Do not tempt me, girl. I am your new Master and I will kill you or any one I wish if I deem it necessary; never make me deem it necessary." And with that he swept through the hall, the petrified audience coming to life as they parted through the middle for his progress towards the door. The crowd closed in on itself again as the short well built conqueror passed through and walked out the huge oak doors, not a glance or word to his new subjects.

~~~~~

Down another level, turn another corner, through a hallway and another bunch of turns, left, right, left, left, right, and straight again, to another lower level. Passing through yet another set of corridors, the monotony of his surrounding began to weigh on the Saiyajin’s mind. Always it was the same black grey walls; the low burning torches appearing periodically to light the way. Always the same, like the palace, Kakarott thought, turning yet another corner as he followed the guards in front of him. A wave of rage overwhelmed his when he thought of his home world, his home, hardly that it was a home. At first he had lived in the communal cadet barracks, everything the same, pure utilitarian life; you fought, slept and ate and that was your place. It wasn’t his; he was different, like his father, both mentally and physically, with a power that overwhelmed his trainers. His differences were at first a source of awe and then of disgust in the static, monotonous society of the Saiyajin. When he was told of a promotion offer as one of the royal guards, he had jumped at the chance to prove himself, only to walk into a trap, beaten within an inch of his life. It was a painful lesson he had never forgotten, he still bore the faint scars of that time, when he could not defend himself. From that moment on he drove himself farther, harder, stronger towards a goal he did not know or understand. The fulfilment he experienced when he won the tournament of the guards had brought him the hope and sense of accomplishment he had not felt since his first years of training. Such enthusiasm there was when he moved into the palace, the youngest royal guard in history and sparring partner to the Prince to match. Even his new rank and title couldn’t erase the old and again he was an outcast amongst those he would claim as his peers. Well, at least he had a peer this time, an ally in his new sparring partner but still, a smaller fish in an even bigger pond. It wasn’t long before the desires rose again and the need grew in him again. It was almost a blessing when he was sent off world with the Prince, though a mixed one with the accompaniment of Nappa but still, that overpowering need to get away, to escape to something better had come back and he was never one to pass on a challenge. The need rose when he escaped in the pod and grew again when he landed on this planet, this untouched perfect planet. And then, the fight and the need stopped and all that was left was fulfilment as he lain in the warm tired arms of his newly acquired mate. And all of it could be gone, in a second, with a lie. Hand skimming over a deep old scar on his arm, all the evils of his life that had come with that lie so long ago and here now, the first creature he had ever found that he would be willing to share his life with had deceived him. The one crime he could never just shrug off, not once but twice, and his rage had reflected his pain. So often had he heard the words pride and honour, nothing but words, empty promises to so many and the idea that they could be nothing to her ate away at him. Saiyajins were not known for their expression of emotion, nothing but rage and smug superiority but at the thought of her and the power she held over him made him act without any rational thought, not seeing the consequences of his actions. In so doing he hurt her, had shredded her pride, exposed her body for all to see and tore at her, the anger and abuse of all those years coming back to him and directed at her. And when he saw her walk out of the room with her back straight and her head held high, he knew there was something more to her. The realisation that he had caused her such pain overcame his rage only to be pushed down, the Saiyajin trying to lose himself in the monotony to hide the most unseemly emotion of all to his race. It was a great blessing that the guards in front of him slowed and stopped before a door, missing the play of emotions across his normally hardened face.

Entering the room, Kakarott held back a gasp of wonder at the spectacle before him. There, all along the floor were pieces of a Saiyajin pod, a very damaged Saiyajin pod from the look of the outer shell. What amazed the warrior more was the dozen of flashing lights that the various parts were blinking. They, they got it to work, maybe this planet had more to offer the Saiyajins then just simple natural resources.

"You did this?" Kakarott finally asked to the small human man who had been writhing in pain not twenty minutes earlier.

"I and my assistant, Thak. We’ve been working on this pod for almost a week now, as by request of our Mistress."

"You mean you work for ChiChi? I was under the impression that this house was nothing but warriors."

"You are and it is, I am the head tech of the House of Modulus, run by the Lady Bulma. It was by her order that we are here."

"Disrespectful baka, you dare wear the colours of a warrior house when you are not even a member."

Sar’in rubbed his eyes once more to clear the constant spots and looked down at his considerably wrinkled black uniform.

"This is not but a measure for my protection, I have given my oath to the lady Bushi to serve her until the war between her and my Mistress and Enleo and Gero is finished. If I were to wear my normal uniform I would stick out like a sore thumb and attract unwanted attention."

"Your usual uniform?"

"The white and blue of Modulus, like the skin and hair of my Mistress."

With that Kakarott took a step back, realisation finally hitting him. Vegita landed here but was taken to another house, the house of Modulus. That woman, that vision in azure and cream was its Mistress but why would he order the pod to be rebuilt in secrecy and open only the homing device and not the two way communicator.

"You say your Mistress ordered this work, you must be mistaken; it would be your Master, your Master the Prince Vegita."

"The only thing that creature is a master of is the Mistress’ wishes, he was a captured slave in our house, wearing a collar around his neck to keep his ki energy to that below a human." Kakarott’s mind raced with the words that the weakling man was telling him; that small fragile creature had captured Vegita, his Prince and the strongest Saiyajin in over a thousand years. The confusing over not feeling the Prince’s ki, the lack of battle scars on the planet, all had made sense and yet was as foreign and alien to this thinking as idea of a woman heading a house of warriors. These creatures were dangerous, but unsure of what a find they had found or had done. If this man had been working on this for a week, he must have been the one that had tripped the homing device, the device that brought him here. And he definitely was the one who had turned on the Full Moon light last night; his blindness could have only come from that. What this man had done, albeit unintentionally, bringing him to this world, freeing his Prince from the grasp of that woman, his anger against the man for having posed as his mate’s lover melting away.

"Then all your efforts were for not; the Prince has escaped that woman’s grasp and only Kami knows what he is doing to her. All of this because you were fiddling around with someone you weren’t meant to touch." Kakarott watched with interest as the human before him changed from red, to white and a subtle shade of green all in one moment. Dropping to his knees, Sar’in gasped out protests against the news the Saiyajin had just broken upon him, sick with the thought that he had brought such an evil to his Mistress.

"You monsters; you come to our planet and bring nothing but destruction and chaos in your wake, nothing but savages. When the Mistress ChiChi told me to search this pod for any way to destroy you, I thought she was too hasty. Now I see that you’re nothing but a scour upon the universe. I…" Sar’in tirade was cut off by a quick shot to the neck and the tech fell to the floor.

"Take him back to the Kennel with the woman and the other tech, I’ll deal with them later."

"Please don’t be angry with him, sir, or with the Mistress. What she did was for us, her people, she’s like a daughter or a sister to us, sir; she had no way of knowing you would not be another Enleo. We are all she had after her parents’ death."

"I’ll thank you to hold your tongue, solider. I’ll deal with her later, now leave me be." Kakarott growled out, not wishing to hear another excuse or accusation about the woman. Waiting until he was alone, the Saiyajin stared angrily at the once enchanting blinking lights and walked out back into the monotony.

~~~~~

It was with a smirk of satisfaction that the Saiyajin no Ouji wore as he walked through the now familiar halls of his new home, revealing in the freedom of such a simple act. Soon he would be in the room of his first triumph over the woman, but certainly not his last. Her fear had been intoxicating, as had every other part of her, the feeling of her skin against his own, the taste of her skin, mouth, blood and womanhood nearly driving him to distraction. In truth, it took all his will power not to just grab her as soon as she woke up and make her scream his name, either in pleasure or in pain. He growled at his weak thoughts, the words of the now dead head slave coming back to him; she would captivate him, possess his mind and soul. Maybe for the weak such a temptation would be hard to over come, a clod like Nappa or his father would have ripped her in half without a thought, but he, thank the Kami, was nothing like his father or the brainless elite. He had not suffered all those lashes and indignities just to have his revenge over in an instant; she was a worthy foe, for a weakling, and she would get a punishment of equal proportion. He would taunt and tease her, using her weaknesses, her pride, her wilfulness, her people, the demands of her body, to break her, and he would savour it every step of the way. When he had toyed with her enough, then he would take her as he wanted, and in that she would find her ultimate defeat, if his body could hold out that long. Turning the handle on the door, he cursed her out again, even her inventions came to haunt his very existence. Losing what minute amounts of patience he had, the Saiyajin Prince formed a ki ball in his hand and melted the door lock. Swinging the door opened, he surveyed his new chamber, wondering why he had chosen to take her chamber as his own. Ignoring the every present thoughts of the wench, he closed the broken door behind him, enough of a lock still existing for him to keep the door shut. Toeing off his boots, he quickly discarded his clothes and laid in the bed, trying to ignore her subtle enchanting smell on the sheets. A slight shiver of cold passed through him and he flared his ki around him, trying to stave off the chill that unexpectedly come upon him. He would spar with Kakarott tomorrow, he decided, the testing of this new power he now possessed bringing his half smirk back to his visage. The mind also craved to know how he had gotten here, as the details were still rather blurry to himself, and how Kakarott had arrived here as well; and where here was exactly. It was good to know that he was not on this planet alone, at least there was a decent sparring partner on hand, not that he couldn’t spar with the little minx sleeping in that cage at the moment. He growled and snarled at himself, and at his body’s reaction to the smell and the overwhelming thought of her, of drowning in those sapphire eyes. The worst was it was beyond just that, just this physically need, now absolute desire to take her and possess her and make her his. From the first night in this bed to last night, that dream he had, and she had screamed his name, the sound numbing him inside and out. No, he screamed at himself, he would not be weak, he would prove that defunct human wrong, he was not possessed, entranced by her, he did not crave her touch and taste. He would master this, he would not be ruled by weakness and lust, but he would make her pay for the hell he was experiencing. He continued to centre his mind on his perfect revenge until sleep nipped at his consciousness; his last thoughts of his azure and cream goddess with those bottomless eyes.

~~~~~

Moans and whimpers of dread echoed through the empty cavernous room, shifting and the sound of flesh against metal would have convinced the guard that they were keeping an animal in those cages and not the founder of their once proud home. The moans and whimpers turned to gasps and shouts of ‘no’ and other pleas of denial, the world of her sleep sound as bad as the world of reality and still he had no desire to wake her. A scream shortly followed and the shifting stopped, replaced by heavy breathing and chattering teeth. I guess not even her dreams will give her comfort.

Bulma finally allowed her frantic breathing to slow, the haunting images of her dream finally separating themselves from the world of the awake. The light from the guard’s post shone through the bars of the various other cells that called the freezing room home, creating distorted shadows of silhouetted nightmares on the darkened wall. Her confusion was starting to lift and remembrance of why she was in this horrible place descended on her with vengeance. She moaned in shame as she saw the face of her lover, the man, no, Saiyajin she brought into this house, staring at her in contempt and rage. He had escaped, the events of the twisted events of last night held the key but it was beyond her reach. It didn’t matter how he got out, just that he had and he wanted revenge, and he would most certainly get it. She had put them all in this danger, she had ignored her own better judgement for the promise of passion and it had struck her back with more power than she would have thought possible. She shivered again at the freezing cold of the room, her naked, sweat covered body turning to ice as she could see the white puffs of her breath in the freezing black air.

"Mistress, please take this. You’ll catch your death tonight if you don’t have anything." a friendly voice stated, breaking the suffocating silence in the room. She felt the soft brush of a warm blanket against her body, covering her up and she wrapped herself in the thick cloth, the chill still in her bones.

"Please, you should not do this, if he comes and finds that you had done this, he may kill you."

"I die now or I die later, my Lady, but one day I will have to; and if it is to defend the honour of such a beautiful woman then my sacrifice would not be in vain."

"Do not say such things, I am a traitor, I sold our lives and freedoms to my greed. More warnings did I receive from all corners and still I did not heed them. I do not deserve your kindness or your praise."

"You are only human, Mistress, no one, not even the Bruha can see all there is to see. You have allowed so many people in the house to flourish and grow, trust us to make our own decisions and self-preservation. Do you wish for a pillow?"

"No, your kindness is already more than I deserve." Bulma said, warmth just beginning to work its way into her limbs. "Please, you must tell me, what has happened, what has the Saiyajin done? Are there anymore dead?"

"We are safe for now, My Lady, there are no casualties other than the young man this morning, he’s been laid to rest with Dazu in the lab until the funeral arrangements tomorrow. Amazingly enough, the Saiyajin ordered that the dead would be lain to rest with full rights. An important part of his warrior race no doubt."

"But, what of the assassin; I ordered that Mata be given burial honours as well."

"It seems, My Lady, that that corpse got up and walked away, no one even knows if it was ever in the lab in the first place. There are also several missing from the ranks of the house; your great defender has left without a trace, as has the Bruha."

Bulma could almost not make out what he was saying as an unexpected warmth bloomed in her bones, her sleep filled head filling again, with thoughts of a much more pleasant nature. Her eyes grew heavy beyond belief and she struggled to stay awake, her body and mind rebelling against her will. Realising that the guard was still talking to her, she forced her mind to respond to his comments, nothing more than half formed words and long pauses coming from her mouth. Hearing the clapping of the footsteps grow more distant, Bulma huddled even more in the blanket, and let her mind go where it would. It centred on the proud noble face of the Saiyajin Prince and she moaned in her half conscious state, cursing her body for its weakness. The world of shadows soon began to turn to that of light as her body gave into sleep and her mind dreamed of a better place, surrounded by the strong arms and loving caresses of her royal lover. She faintly noticed the cold air turning warm, the distinctive smell of mask and male invading her senses and she gave into the dream and those never ending eyes.