Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Closer ❯ Inner Strength ( Chapter 17 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

Shout out to my hubby for helping with this.

A long, creamy leg bobbed over its twin as the waiting dragged on. ‘Come on! How long does it take to have a bloody finance meeting?’ Bulma thought.
Jaw clinched, she tugged at her white skirt with a generous v-cut in the front. After Bulma’s confrontation with Yamcha the previous day, she was edgy. That part of her which longed for those words of love was pecking at her over and over. She kept telling that part of her fuck off –Yamcha would never change. He only wanted her because she was taken…right?
She blew out a breath over full lips. “For fuck’s sake! I’m with Vegeta!…I think.” Closing her eyes she thought over the meeting she would eventually join. Vegeta would be there, watching her—berating her with his eyes. She abandoned him at the first sign of trouble. She wouldn’t blame him if he never talked to her again. ‘I am such a sissy. He will not want me for his queen. I wouldn’t want me either at this point.
Just then a stocky Saiyan approached the lovely scientist. He beckoned her forward with a nod of his head. “Come. They are ready for you” he said.
Bulma straightened up and stood. She checked herself over just to be sure her appearance wouldn’t offend the council in any way. Her suit coat was bone white bordered with a thick black accents. Her hair cascaded in waves down her back She looked smart and beautiful—she was ready for whatever they were going to throw at her.
“Very well, I am ready” Bulma said. She followed the bronzed guard to the familiar black door of the meeting room. They walked in mostly silence down the hall and to the right. All that could be heard was the click-click-click of her dainty feet through the cavernous hallway. Finally, they arrived. The guard opened the door and Bulma stepped in.
The room smelled of well worn leather. It reminded her of her father’s study. A large onyx table sat in an ornately decorated chamber surrounded by comfortable chairs. Seated were the king and his council. It was almost like Knights of the Round Table and Bulma held back a very inappropriate giggle.
“Dr. Briefs, welcome” said the King. He seemed pleased to see her, though his son was unreadable.
Prince Vegeta’s heart rate rose when he saw his woman walk into his midst. He refused to be angry with her about the weakling. She was just as much a strategist as he and now was not the time for anger…at least not at her. The disgusting human male would pay but that would be later. Vegeta nearly smirked at the thought of hitting the man so hard that he puked.
Unfortunately, he could not smile. Grace the annoying, cock-sucking whore, was sitting to his immediate right. She tried three times to hold on to any part of him. Vegeta thwarted her at every turn so she settled for leaning as close to him as possible. She was positively beaming and it made Vegeta sick.
“Thank you, King Vegeta and council for this opportunity.” Bulma produced an object from her pocket. It was shiny and square. She set it upon the slick table ignoring the skeptical looks from some of the room’s occupants. At the click of her pen, the gadget began to glow and produced a three dimensional hologram of an average Saiyan. Bulma then began her report concerning the progress of Elite warriors in the training unit she had designed.
Vegeta barley kept his pride in check as he marveled at his princess. The confident way she ticked off the current status and development plan for the future was amazing. It should be as it was the plan they came up with during their meditation sessions.
Grace nearly gagged at the way her prince was looking at the brainy girl. ‘What could she possibly have to offer him? She is so weak a child could have down in seconds.’ She smiled. She had nothing to fear anyway…no one would condone the crown prince taking that blue monstrosity as a mate. She reached over and tried to stroke Vegeta’s thigh. Her hand was caught in an instant and she was met with an absolutely evil look that screamed ‘Try that again, you lose an arm’. Grace swallowed and heeded the silent command as her hand fell back into her lap.
“…In conclusion, Elite soldiers are now as strong as a member of the Guinyu Force and could absolutely get stronger. Mental acumen has improved greatly, further enhancing their abilities to analyze adversaries and dispose of them efficiently.” Nods of appreciation and understanding broke out amongst the audience
“None however has done as well as Prince Vegeta.” Bulma turned her whole body toward her subject. “He has trained at the advanced level and his speed has increased tenfold. I will have to program a Master level for him as he has absolutely dominated the most dangerous creatures Saiyans have ever encountered.”
All eyes were on the magnificent Prince. Pure, unadulterated devotion and awe ebbed toward the future monarch. They all knew he was their saving grace, the one who would deliver them from any evil. The King patted the shoulder of his son who simply nodded. He was doing his duty to the satisfaction of his people and ensuring the safety of his race. It was an honor and a privilege…the price was almost humbled…almost.
Vegeta held Bulma’s gaze. The silent conversation spoke volumes between the two. He reached out telepathically and brushed against her consciousness. Bulma almost fainted on the spot. It was just a small reminder of that glorious moment they had shared on the beach days earlier.
Vegeta nearly breathed a very loud sigh of relief. He knew she was sorry. She missed him desperately but was afraid he was disappointed in her behavior. Vegeta smirked and very slightly shook his head from side to side instantly giving Bulma the relief she was seeking. The couple shared the look so long and intensely that it was beginning to make the other attendees uncomfortable.
“So, can you do whatever technical nonsense from YOUR planet?” cut in Grace as she broke the spell.

Yamcha sat in the dark room in front of a message screen. The screen was blank now, conversations had taken place. Another step towards having Bulma being his once again was complete.
He wanted to win her so badly, but could he do this? The pink blob called Dodoria assured him the plan was foolproof, no, amazingly foolproof. He just had to play his part and the girl would be his. Sweat broke out over Yamcha’s brow. He was mostly a lover now, not the scrappy young fighter he used to be. Pulling this off would be the spark he needed to re-ignite Bulma’s dormant feelings…wouldn’t it?
‘Yes,’ he thought, ‘it had to.’
He shut his eyes at the thought of her writhing in rhythm with that short, stunted, pompous, freakish prince. He took her – maybe even forced her…or so he reasoned.
‘That filthy beast probably held her down as he took her.’ Images of a sadistic Vegeta ripping off Bulma’s clothes invaded his mind. His imagination conjured Bulma’s tearstained face as Vegeta forced her weak limbs apart and invaded her brutally. She cried out for Yamcha. Why didn’t he save her?
Yamcha’s eyes began to sting from tears fighting their way to the surface, letting his delusion get the best of him. Clutching his fingers into fists, he found his resolve. He would not allow this Saiyan to get away with this. He could follow this plan. The plan that would absolutely end Vegeta.
The man in the corner sat patiently, watching him. He was gratified at his ‘partner’s’ reaction to the arrangement. Dodoria may be ghastly and fat, but he paints a good picture. The shady character smirked to himself. He needed this dupe to take the bait but knew not to force him. He had to come to the decision on his own.
Yamcha scrubbed his eyes and turned to other man. Pushing away the remaining fear, he cleared his throat and walked toward the door. Before he grabbed the knob, Yamcha turned and stated “I’m in.”

The group darted their eyes toward the intruder to the sacred moment. Grace paid them no mind. ‘Simpletons and weaklings,’ she thought.
“I asked you a question or are your skills to dull to comprehend speech?”
Bulma took a double take at the comment. She had still been lost in Vegeta’s eyes. Regaining herself she cocked her head towards her rival. She let the gears turn in her head before answering. “I am so sorry Lady Grace, were you talking? You seem to do so much speaking without the aid of thought, I wasn’t sure if I should answer or not?”
A snicker made its way around the table. King Vegeta raised his eyebrows. It was quite possible Grace was about to be taken down a peg….
The ‘Lady’ was busy catching flies with her very open mouth. She wasn’t expecting a humorous retort from the brazen hussy. Grace shut her mouth, stood up, and strode the length of the table. If this bitch was going to challenge her, it was going to be face to face.
Now sizing each other up, the women forgot about the crowd.
“Do not forget your place, human”
“Oh, are you going to remind me?”
“Absolutely.”
“Would that be with or without kneepads?”
Grace paled at that last comment. She was not going to be shamed by this poor excuse for a female! She did not have to explain her actions…especially in front of the King. Grace flexed her hands as if she were willing them to stay in check.
Bulma did not let the body language go unnoticed. ‘If she wants to fight, I’ll give her more than she can handle’ Bulma thought. She pursed her lips as if deep in thought. She placed her pen/control upon the table.
Bulma leaned forward into the well made-up face of Grace and growled “What’s the issue, my Lady? Do you deny that you have been sleeping with half of the male population while waiting to mate with your Prince?”
Prince Vegeta was absolutely salivating…internally of course. Bulma was very nearly Saiyan in her mannerisms. She was asserting her dominance over the worthless female. It was exhilarating –and very fucking erotic.
And then Bulma made a mistake. She took her eyes off her prey to meet the gaze of her beloved prince for a moment but that was long enough. Grace’s fist shot out and connected with Bulma’s chin with a resounding crack! Bulma’s head snapped up and she stumbled backward a bit. Her face was already showing signs of the bruise that would mar her features.
“What is wrong, weakling? Nothing to say now?” Grace sneered.
Prince Vegeta was up out of his chair like a shot but stilled by the King. Father and son were locked in a stare down concerning the Prince’s intervention to save Bulma. No words were needed as they both understood the situation. The King shook his head no causing the Prince to clinch his jaw. A look of pleading flitted very subtly across his handsome features but the King was not moved. He motioned for the Prince to take his seat as he turned his attention back to the ladies at the center of the room. Dejected, Prince Vegeta slowly sunk into his chair. He could not help Bulma, she was on her own.
Surprisingly Bulma did not yell out when the devastating hit connected with her face. She was more stunned than anything. There had been many times in meeting where she wanted to hit an offending participant but never had it actually been done.
Bulma gathered herself. She stumbled over to the table and leaned on it. In front of these people she knew she could not show weakness. If she was going to be with Vegeta, she would have to show the bitch to her proper place. And she had better do that soon because Grace eyed her as if she were going to devour her whole.
Standing up straight, Bulma took off her slightly rumpled jacket to reveal a very white, sleeveless chemise. She walked up to the amused Grace silently accepting her challenge.
“What? Do you think you can actually fight a Saiyan just because you have bedded one, foreigner?” Graced laughed and there was a sort of ripple effect of small laughter that went around the room. Bulma waited for just a moment or two before spitting right into Grace’s face.
The room audibly gasped at the action. Blood and saliva was like acid on Grace’s skin. What was worse was the humiliation in front of the King and his council. That earthling bitch should not have been able to get the drop on a Saiyan!
Not thinking, Grace’s hand shot out to grab at Bulma’s hair. It was almost too easy for Bulma to lean back, block the hand, and respond with a fist of her own right to Grace’s chest. “Who I bed is none of your business Grace, however you should be warned that I, unlike you, train. You will not be fighting some inept loser. Don’t fuck with me, this isn’t my first rodeo.”
Rage and humiliation blinded Grace. She lunged at Bulma but found nothing. She was slow and ponderous compared to the blue haired bombshell. ‘Am I really this out of practice?’ she wondered as she again failed to hit her intended victim. ‘I must be, this earthling is not that good.’
Meanwhile, most of the audience was stunned. For a Saiyan to be so utterly useless in a fight was unheard of. Even more embarrassing was the fact that Grace was losing to a race known to be extremely weak. How is it possible that she could not lay one finger on the human? Doubts concerning Grace’s ability to be a good Queen were now weighing on the council’s minds and Grace knew it.
“Fight me coward!” Grace roared.
“Fine.” Bulma answered. Then she phased out for a moment confusing the princess wannabe. Appearing behind Grace, Bulma tapped her on the shoulder to get her attention. Angry with the game, Grace spun around, fists flying. Bulma bobbed and weaved like a heavyweight fighter. She waited patiently for her opening and was rewarded. Grace had hesitated slightly in her attack and it was enough time for Bulma to catch her with a right cross followed in rapid succession by left jabs.
Dazed and confused, Grace tripped forward and tried to return fire to her attacker but Bulma caught her fist. Graces eyes widened as Bulma began to squeeze the offending hand increasing adding a tremendous amount of pain. Before she knew it, Grace was on the floor kneeling in anguish.
Bulma wanted a submission in front of everyone. She did not need to pummel this woman and she was not into blood lust. Disgrace would suit her needs.
The pressure Bulma was exerting caused Grace’s knuckle bones to slowly snap one at a time and tears rolled down her face. She would not yield, not to this pretender to her throne.
Keeping her grip, Bulma knelt to catch the eye of her prey. She flashed her perfect teeth and squeezed harder breaking a few more bones. “Ahh!” Grace screamed.
Staring her down, Bulma said, “Let it go, Grace, let HIM go……”
“Never! You hateful BITCH!” Grace seethed through her teeth.
“I will not get any easier, you cannot win.”
“I would rather die than submit to you!”
As those words leaked out of Grace’s lips, Bulma raised her power level just above hers and crushed what was remaining of her hand. The shriek that emanated from Grace was astounding. Every Saiyan in the room covered their ears in disgust as one of their own was crushed under the power of a being from a frail race.
Bulma used her hold to drag the woman to her feet. Yanking the bedraggled female, she forced her in front of the King. Grabbing a fist full of hair, Bulma threw Grace down in front of the monarch. Her body fell like a sad sack of refuse. Bulma straightened up, smoothed her clothes and hair, then spoke to the King.
“Your Majesty, Grace will not yield but I refuse to give her the honor of death in battle.”
The King was internally very pleased with Bulma and her abilities. Grace no longer possessed the skills of a warrior. She was lazy and slow and now it will be known publicly.
“Very well, I declare you the winner of this battle. I am sure there are none here who would deny that fact” said the King. He beamed at Bulma as she bowed. “Thank you, Majesty.” Bulma shot a knowing look to the Prince then gathered her remaining items and strode from the room.
“Get up!” the King bellowed to Grace.
Grace dragged herself up, cradling her hand to her chest. Her eyes were bloodshot and puffy from tears, her makeup was smeared, her clothes in disarray—she was an utter mess.
The King continued “Make your way to be medical unit, on your own. Do you all hear, no one is to help her! She has dishonored us all with her defeat. Remove yourself from my sight at once!”
She looked to the Prince for help only to be met by his stone cold stare. Dejected, she turned and headed for the door. She knew her days as the Prince’s future wife were in peril.