Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Chizzari-Raditz ❯ Breeder ( Chapter 7 )

My father and I are dressed in identical sea-green robes. Standing, they barely cover enough to make us decent. Sitting, everything shows. When Nappa enters the room, we both hit our knees, leaning forward on our elbows. Proper positions for a chizzari in the presence of its master.

We know, now, that Vegeta was never intended to be our true master. We learned the hard way, both of us. Nappa and the king joined forces to teach my father. Once they broke him, Father taught me. My father and I are stubborn people. But after being given repeated Moon Burst lessons… we learned. It took them two days to break my father, and four days for me. Still, we have both had follow up lessons.

I tremble when Nappa kneels behind me and delicately lifts the edge of my robe, folding it up over my tail. My voice is tight when I speak. "May my body be of service to my lord?" The words are formula, and I know they will not be enough.

"Of course, Raditz." He rolls the robe up a bit more, carefully not touching my skin or my hair. My trembling becomes more obvious. He is holding back, pretending to follow the law Vegeta laid down for him. "I want to touch you."

Vegeta told him he couldn't touch me without my permission. My voice cracks when I answer as I know I must. "I long for your touch." Formula again. I keep my face pressed to the floor, hot tears spilling. I don't want him to touch me! But I must allow it. I cannot bear the thought of another lesson.

Cannot bear the idea of being blindfolded and ki-bound, and hearing those two horrible words fall from the king's lips. Of having Father thrust into me, and only then begin his transformation. I cannot bear to think that he will be behind me once more, as I feel him begin to split me apart. Feel him crushing my organs, pushing the air from my lungs as they collapse from the pressure of him growing inside me. Allowing Nappa to touch me is not so horrid, compared to that.

A tremulous sob escapes me when Nappa slams himself into me. I hear him chuckle, feel his hands grip my skin. He loves to leave bruises, loves being able to force me to permit him to damage me. I'll be bleeding when he's through. He calls for my father, who crawls over, whispering his own request to know how he may be of service. Nappa positions him in front of me, and I must raise my head.

He looks down at me, and our eyes meet for the barest moment. Then my hands are on his hips, and his tangle in my hair, resting on my shoulders as I take him into my mouth. Beneath the heavy curtain of my hair, our tails twine. I strive to give my father the pleasure he once gave to me. It isn't easy. My father is no longer the slut he was, and flinches from my touch the way I once flinched from his.

Nappa's thrusts slam me into my father, knocking me into the bruises that make his groin a black and blue mess. I don't look any better. I grip him differently, moving him in time with Nappa's vicious thrusts as I try once more to please him. I feel him beginning to respond to me when the door opens once more, and the king walks in.

I freeze, and my father's skin turns icy cold. Only Nappa continues to move, and he swings a savage fist into the side of my head. Blood dribbles along my cheek as I resume my attentions to my father. He still feels like ice, and I move my tail from his to stroke his rear.

His legs shift, opening so that I can tuck my tail into him. Broken indeed, the both of us. I concentrate on him, desperately ignoring the steadily increasing thrusts behind me as I focus on the man before me. His fingers run through my hair, and he holds me steady for a moment as he regains his control and begins to move to Nappa's thrusts.

I do not stop my ministrations to my father when Nappa roars and spills himself in me. I only shudder with relief because he moves away. I stop when my tail is suddenly seized and ripped from my father's body, and I am pulled back away from him. "No, boy. I like watching your father take you. It's very stimulating."

I cringe as the king positions me, his fingers running with an easy familiarity over my tail and groin. He lays me on my back, fastening my arms to rings in the floor, spreading my legs wide, and fondling me as he does so. His fingers slip into me, his tail coiling around my cock. He plays for a little while, then removes himself from between my legs.

My father takes his place, lifting my ass up higher. He slides into me, and I wrap my legs around him. We've learned the king finds that fascinating. Father takes no time in establishing his thrusts, it's a hurried pace that doesn't seem to be. He leans over me, bending down to kiss me, and the king leans closer to watch our tongues battle.

Over and over, Father thrusts into my body, capturing the few small sounds I make with his own mouth. His tail roams my body freely, as mine does his. Both of us know that the king will take him as soon as he's gotten his fill of the show, and I no sooner think that than my feet are pulled from his back. King Vegeta pushes my legs wide, presses my father down against me.

He smiles at me. My eyes widen. "Nappa has told me that you are capable of taking two, Raditz."

"No!" The cry is involuntary, as is the frantic wriggle I make in an attempt to escape. The king frowns, but his hands lift me. I scream again as he forces his way into my filled body, and begins to thrust. When he finishes, he pulls out, and smacks my father lightly. "Finish up, pet. Your son will be needing another lesson today. He actually thought to argue with me."

I scream and rage then, even as my father continues until he achieves his release. The king himself strips off the robe I still wear. He looks down at me, and the smile he gives me then steals my voice. "Bardock, a blindfold for your son."

My father leaves for a moment, and comes back. He obeys the command to fasten the thing over my eyes. The last thing I see is the shame in his eyes, and pity. I hear the commands that follow, feeling every movement as my father positions me again. I don't fight, it's the king I want to kill, not my father. "Enter him."

I am filled again. "Moon Burst. Look up at the light, Bardock. Look at what you created." A moment later, I am screaming in pain. "No, Bardock, slower. Transform slowly."

The king's voice continues, "Oh, Raditz, how I wish you could see this. He's easily as big around as your thigh. It's such a… stimulating sight. Ahhh… Nappa. You know just what I need." There are slurping noises that I can hear even over my screams. "Rock in him, Bardock. Fuck him gently, now, there'll be time for fun later."

My father roars, an inhuman sound. And being gently thrust into by a being that is caught in an oozaru transformation is not pleasant. I scream. Repeatedly. "Oh, that's enough, Bardock. Transform a bit more for me."

The pain of my body slowly splitting sends me to the edge of delirium. But I can still hear the king. "Fuck him hard, Bardock. Break the chains that bind him, and fuck him into the ground."

Agony, overwhelming agony. I should be unconscious, but I can feel the tissues in my body tearing. I can't breath any longer, the only reason my screams stop. The blindfold is ripped suddenly from my face, and I blink, searching frantically for the simulated moon. It's gone, and my father's transformation halted. He has returned to normal.

He is the one who gathers me close and takes my broken body to medical. He puts me in the tank himself, sets the dials. As the liquid pours over me, I see him setting a second tank for himself. And he is the first thing I see when I waken in the tank, the fluid draining from around me.

It's the clothes he wears and hands to me that catch my attention. "The prince has returned?"

"Yes."

I look at the armor he has given me. I begin shaking my head, not even realizing it until the armor slips from my grasp and hits the floor. "I won't wear that." I swallow, hard. "It is not the garment for a chizzari. I must have a robe."

"Nappa sent this."

I bend, and slowly dress. Then I follow my father to our quarters. I go straight to my room, and strip off the armor. I know that Nappa will punish me for this, but right now, all I want to do is die. I choose a red robe, one the color of fresh blood. The color seems appropriate. It is also the longest one I own.

The prince is there when I return to the outer room. I drop immediately to the floor, crawl over to him, and kneel before him. Not as a warrior to a prince, but as a chizzari to his master. Not once have I looked at his face. The words I have learned spill from me, exactly as they should. "May my body be of service to my lord?"

There is an intake of breath, and then a frigid silence so cold that I no longer want to raise my head. His words, when he finally speaks, are quiet. "I want a ride, Raditz."

I look up at him, a silent question. He holds out his hands to me. "Take me for a ride, Raditz."

I understand, finally, and stand. Lifting him to my shoulder, I wait passively for him to determine where we are going. The gentle tug on my hair tells me, and I carry him from the room and down the hall. "Medical, Raditz."

I am silent. It is not my place to speak. I won't, unless my master gives me permission. I have said what I am supposed to, now I need say nothing until I am in a situation that requires me to say something. I must offer no unsolicited words. We enter medical, and he has to duck his head. I know that usually makes him smile, but I do not look to see if it has this time.

"Which tank do you use, Raditz?" I walk silently to it, lower him to the ground at his request. He notes something on the pod, then goes to the screens against the wall. He is seething with fury when he returns. "Raditz, take me to Communications."

Still silent, I follow his command. Again, I let him down. He stalks over to one of the screens, tossing the technician in front of it half-way across the room. A few pokes of the button later, and Zarbon's face appears on the screen. His bored, indolent face sneers, then looks shocked. He seems to peer at the prince, and his expression lightens into a look of what I can only call delight. A moment later, I can see that he is laughing. An unexpectedly serious look overtakes him, and then one of satisfaction. I see him nod, and then Vegeta cuts the connection.

He comes back to me, and takes my hand. The prince leads me quietly back to my quarters. "Stay in your room, Raditz, come out for none save I." I nod, and close the door. My body is shaking as I walk to the box next to my bed. I open it, picking through the jumbled contents, and at last find what I sought.

I take the small bottle to the bathroom with me. A chizzari must be prepared, and I am fresh from the tanks. I shower, removing the filth that has clung to my skin and perfumed the air around me. It comes to me that the smell was how my master had known that I was in the tank. I use the contents of the small bottle to ensure that I will be ready, should the prince require my body for his needs.

My hair and tail are matted, I groom myself carefully. The blood-red robe is tossed in the hamper, I select a black one in its place. Then I kneel before the box again, and carefully set it to rights. It may be that my master will care to use some of the contents this time, and so what he wants should be easily found. From there, I go to the kitchen. I know the prince intends to return, but I am not sure when. I fix items that I can store in the cooler.

After that, I am at a loss. I am prepared, the food is prepared. The servant changed the bedding this morning, so even that is prepared. I look around the room, wondering what I am supposed to do while I wait. I sigh, and seat myself in one of the chairs. I will wait. There is nothing else to do.

I am not particularly surprised to find him on my lap when I wake up, nor surprised that I fell asleep. I merely look at him, then shift my robe aside so that I am available if that is what he wants.

"No, Raditz." He pulls the robe back over me, leaves his hand resting on my stomach. "I want to know what happened to you. And your father. Injuries such as the ones recorded by the tanks are not… natural."

I tell him, the words falling dully from my lips. I hear the gasp of horror as I describe what happened to my father while I was forced to watch, and what my father was made to do to me after he was broken. The tiny body on mine grows stiffer and stiffer as I speak, and when I finish, he wraps himself around me as best as he can. The tears I feel soaking into my robe shock me.

I look down at him, this tiny prince. His face is twisted with anger and a grief so strong I wonder at it. The little tail wraps itself around my wrist twice. Yet I say nothing.

"You were supposed to be sss sssafe," he sniffles. "Safe, Raditz, safe at home. Training for the mission I wanted to take you on. This wasn't supposed to happen!"

He sits back, fingers delicately tracing over my face. "You were to be my own. But you're so broken, Raditz, and I don't know how to fix you. It was your fire that drew me, and that fire…. It's gone, Raditz."

"Not… entirely," I whisper. "Nappa gave me armor to wear to greet you. I changed clothes."

The incredulous light in his eyes shocks me, and then he giggles. A mirthful little ripple of sound that brings an answering smile to my face. "Will you wear it for me, Raditz? Become my warrior once more, and forget that you are chizzari for a time?"

"A warrior, my prince?" My voice is soft, uncertain. "I have not trained since the day after you left us. My father and I were forbidden to leave the quarters unless the king and first took us out for lessons."

His face pales again, and he leans against me once more. "Do you know how long I have been gone, my own?"

"The mission was to be three weeks," I tell him. "It seemed longer."

"I have been gone over a year, my own. Look at me, now." He slips from my lap, stands before me. "Do you see the difference?"

"You grew," I say, "and you've filled out more. And… your hair!"

"Yes," he smiles, "my hair."

He looks like a miniature of his father now, without those spikes falling across his brow. "You've come of age."

"Yes, Raditz. I am of age." He crawls back into my lap, pushing me backward. "And I will not be denied this time. The flames have died down, my own, but the fire only slumbers. You will be reborn in a rush of fire, your spirit restored, and revenge will be yours, my own."

His lips meet mine, trail over my neck. I tip my head back, feel his sharp teeth on the place he has broken twice before. I smile, at last understanding why his touch affects me as no other male's. He breaks the skin again, this bite firm, and deeper than before. I feel his tongue lapping the blood he's drawn, and his soft exhalation when he pulls back.

"I am yours, my prince, and I will be no other's," I say softly. I know the bite was not deep enough. He is tiny, my prince, and could not bite deeply enough to achieve a true claim.

"The readings from the tank, Raditz, do you know what they told me?"

"That I got hurt?" I hazard.

His eyes lighten, and he smiles a bit. It is a sad smile, and I wonder why until he speaks. "You are a breeder, my own."

I feel the shock. A breeder. A male Saiyan who can conceive and carry young. My hand goes to my stomach. "Vegeta?" I whisper, barely loud enough to be heard. I have to know.

"Three, my own." Three children. Lost. I sink back into the cushions of the chair. His tail sweeps across my face before wrapping once more around my wrist. "And one, my own, who survives."

I look up at him. "Survives?"

"Yes, my own. You carry a son."

"Whose?" I can barely make myself ask the question.

"They all had the same pattern," he tells me. "Your children have all been sired by your father."

"How can he have survived?" I ask, even as relief washes over me. I couldn't have endured it if the child were Nappa's, or the king's. "It was right before you arrived that I went into the tank."

"Not according to your father. He kept you in that tank a solid two months, until you had completely healed. Something, I am informed, that had not been allowed. He'd barred the doors to the medical wing in order to keep you safe. And he did not open them, my own, until word of my arrival had been broadcast throughout the palace."

"So, the child was healed as well?" I touch my stomach again. "Two months in the tank? How long before my son is born?"

"No more than three months. Two is more likely."

"So soon!" I am startled, there is no sign that I bear a child.

"He has not been well fed, this child," Vegeta tells me. "You have been kept weak, and neither you nor your father knew to feed him. He will be here soon, to help tend you and the boy. I have fed him a little, he accepts what is offered eagerly."

I lay my hand flat next to his, feeling the tiny fluttering that I have felt before and thought meant only that I was ill. Now, I know it is my son moving. Vegeta strokes his tail against my cheek, wiping away the tears I hadn't realized I was shedding. "There, my own. I will stay until the child is born, and I have made… arrangements… that will ensure that this does not happen again."

"Arrangements?" I recall Zarbon's face. "With Frieza?"

"No, my own. With Zarbon. He will not tell Frieza. The pretty one is afraid of the lizard." His tone is scoffing, but I can feel the tension in his slender form. Whatever arrangements he has made, I can tell he does not entirely care for them. And I imagine, when he moves the robe aside and caresses me, that I am to prepare him for what he has arranged.

He is sleeping against me when my father slips into the room, wearing one of the sea-green robes. I raise my eyebrows at him, my fingers continuing their absent petting of the young prince's hair. My father comes over to me, kneeling next to my chair, and places his hand over my stomach. A sense of well-being engulfs me as his hand begins to glow slightly.

My father is strong, far stronger than anyone believes. We're both considered low-class, but I'm sure if we get retested, we'll be of higher ranking than we are listed as. He's always made a habit of coming back from his missions half dead, and he's been treating life as a chizzari much the same. Both of us are much stronger now.

I cover his hand with my own, but make no attempt to add my energy to his. I'm still drained, and my ki is at a minimum. He looks up at me. "Vegeta has made arrangements for us," I tell him, keeping my voice low so I do not wake the prince.

"His father will ignore anything he says," Bardock whispers back.

"He made the arrangements with Zarbon." I nod at the dawning shock and resigned comprehension on my father's face.

"The king can't argue with Frieza's right hand," he acknowledges. His hand turns, his fingers curling with mine. "I'm sorry, Raditz."

"Don't be, Father. There wasn't a damned thing we could do against elites. There's only so much stubbornness can do against brute strength. And you know, we're damned stubborn!"

The first true smile I've seen on his face since Vegeta left us blooms slowly. His face transforms, a kind of peace settling over his features. "You're right. I'm going to change, and go train for awhile. I've got an awful lot of… coercions to overcome."

"You started overcoming them when you put me in that tank, Father, and made sure that I healed properly." I shift Vegeta a bit, preparing to stand.

"He marked you."

"Third time," I tell him. "He's bitten me twice before. One of these days, he'll get it right."

"Next time," comes the sleepy mumble from the prince. One eye opens. "I'll get it right next time." The other eye opens, he stares at my father's robe. "Bardock, what the hell are you wearing?"

"Next to nothing," my father replies cheekily, and leans to kiss the prince. "You come see me when I get back, little prince."

"Little!" Vegeta bounces to life, hovering above my lap. "Little!"

My father spends a long moment examining him, then grins. "Not where it counts, my prince." He dodges the half-hearted attack Vegeta throws at him, and scampers out the door. Vegeta drops back into my lap.

"Your father will be the death of me."

"My father will give his life for you," I reply with absolute certainty. "As will I."

"Hmph." He curls back against me, protesting when I move.

"Oh, no, Vegeta. I've slept in the damned chair long enough. If you are still tired, you can sleep in the bed." I toss him into it, suddenly lighthearted. Prince Vegeta has returned, and has made arrangements with someone with more authority than the king to keep me safe. He bounces, and comes up spitting feathers.

"Raditz?" He knocks feathers from his skin. "What happened to your bed?"

"Overstuffed feather pillows," I inform him, and then dart into the kitchen. I fix enough for two, and carry it out to him on a tray. We feed each other, until he curls up and falls asleep again. I watch him sleep, wondering what the future holds, and what to name my son.