Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Empire ❯ The Prince Who Would Never Be King ( Chapter 4 )
[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
Disclaimer: I don't own dbz or any of it's characters...please don't sue me, I'm a poor college student!
A.N: Thanks for the reviews, everyone. In answer to jSinuYasha's question as to whether this fic would have V/G, I say maybe. I'm planning to do some devious, odd things with this fic. As for this chapter...hoo boy, it's a doozy. It's a strange one, but bear with me. This chapter is told from Vegeta's POV. If you haven't guessed , while Kakarott is the main character, I will periodically shift the POV between him, Vegeta, and Bulma as they are essential characters in the story as well. There is rape in this chapter, so if you're disturbed by that sort of thing, you might want to skip this chapter. No worries though, It won't always be so...disturbing. The pairing...might surprise you. Here goes then...
The Prince Who Would Never Be King
The sun was setting over Planet Vegeta, painting the sky in violent reds as it descended. Vegeta stood in a corridor in the west wing of the palace that overlooked the launching station. He watched the last of the day's ships take off into the darkening sky with a twinge of longing. His mind raced with images of battle and places he barely remembered.
Blood lust consumed him, occupying many hours and days of his time. He craved battle on far away worlds, he craved for the kill.
But Frieza kept him tucked away on the palace grounds most of the time and he was rarely allowed offworld. This being the case, he found himself lacking in outlets for his war-like nature. At least twice a week, servants went missing, occasionally turning up severely disturbed, but silent, or not at all. Just last week, an alien girl from an ambassadorial family had gone missing during her father's tour. They were still looking for her.
Although nothing had ever been spoken to him about it, Vegeta was sure that Frieza knew of his occasional “slips”.
As the last pod disappeared out of his sight, Vegeta decided that he had better accept Frieza's “invitation” to his private chambers for the evening.
He took the long way, through King's Hall. King's Hall was a corridor dedicated to the kings of Planet Vegeta. It was always brightly lit and it's walls were adorned with lavish reds and golds. The walls held 12 portraits. Twelve portraits, all the Saiyan Kings, the entire House Of Vegeta.
They were all champions, great leaders, the epitome of strength and triumph. Vegeta's heart always swelled with pride when he thought of how he was part of this illustrious line.
He paused at the last portrait. He stared at it for a long time, drinking in the picture of the serious looking man in decorative armor. He had to force down the sadness that arose in his heart. He turned away from the picture, unable to look at it any longer.
Everything had changed when his father had...The world was so much different than it had been before. There were now aliens, inferior creatures living amongst them. Frieza had practically turned their planet into a vacation spot for wealthy aliens looking for exotic places to visit. Not to mention the fact that Frieza's soldiers were everywhere, wreaking havoc. Such a thing would never have happened with his father in power.
Everything had changed when his father had...The world was so much different than it had been before. There were now aliens, inferior creatures living amongst them. Frieza had practically turned their planet into a vacation spot for wealthy aliens looking for exotic places to visit. Not to mention the fact that Frieza's soldiers were everywhere, wreaking havoc. Such a thing would never have happened with his father in power.
He faced the last empty space on the wall across from his father's portrait, The space of the 13th king...the space he would never occupy.
Vegeta found himself placing a hand on the cool surface. He slowly drew the outline of himself on the blank space. Suddenly, he heafd a loud crash. He turned his head to see a frightened servant girl standing frozen near the entrance. On the floor in front of her was a tray of ruined foodstuffs. She looked positively terrified.
Vegeta couldn't help smiling involuntarily. Apparently, word of his “indulgences” had spread to the servants as well.
The girl didn't move to pick up any of the things she'd dropped. She stood very still, as if she thought that if she moved he would attack. Vegeta still hadn't ruled out the possibility that he would attack.
He supposed that no one would really miss her if he decided to...then he remembered his prior engagement. How disappointing...He gave her a wink and his most feral smile, which sent her scrambling back the way she came, and continued on his way, laughing to himself.
The hall near Frieza's chambers in the North wing was almost always deserted. No one dared to linger there for long.
Vegeta willed himself numb and pressed the red button on the keypad. He waited and then pressed it again. There was no answer.
Vegeta typed in the code and the door hissed open.
The smell of sex and red wine greeted his nostrils. The first room he entered was in shambles. Broken glass was everywhere, expensive trinkets were smashed on the floor. He stepped around a broken burl table.
It was dark, and Vegeta asked the system for light. As he entered the hall that led to the bedroom, the scent got heavier.
Vegeta kept his poker face, but he was becoming worried about the low, pained moans he was hearing. If Frieza was in that sort of mood...he didn't even want to think about what would happen to him. He placed a hand on the palm pad, which only had data for three people: himself, Frieza, and Zarbon. The door opened to reveal a dimmed room. He stepped inside and the door closed behind him.
Frieza, in his second form, was sitting at the edge of a spacious bed , which was covered in black silk sheets this evening. He didn't look up when Vegeta came in. He seemed to be watching something with a look of disinterest. Vegeta followed his eyes.
Zarbon was lying on the floor on his stomach. He was partly dressed in a ripped blue kimono. Although he didn't look injured, he moaned periodically. Vegeta felt himself become aroused at the sight.
“I'm finished with him. You can have him,” Frieza said.
Vegeta bowed. He understood Frieza's words to mean that he wanted to watch the two of them. He had had Vegeta do things like that before, but never with Zarbon.
“I gave him a new drug earlier. It heightens sexual pleasure. Marvelous, really...problem with it, though, is that it saps energy,” Frieza explained as he watched Vegeta undress, sounding both pleased and bored, “It was fun while it lasted, though.”
Vegeta didn't speak. He knew Frieza wouldn't care. He was most likely under some sort of intoxicant as well.
He knelt near Zarbon's prone body and turned him on his back. He looked exhausted and was panting heavily. Vegeta wondered how long they had been going at it. His usually neat green hair was everywhere and he looked quite messed up on the whole. However, Vegeta had to admit that this busted doll look made him somehow more attractive.
He brushed some hair out of Zarbon's face and his eyes half opened as he groaned in protest. He wasn't bruised or injured, didn't even have a scratch. Vegeta spread Zarbon's legs and inserted a finger into him. He was already slick with Frieza's seed, but as he withdrew the digit, he noticed that he was not bleeding. He felt jealousy wash over him.
Frieza was never so careful with him. Even in his frenzy, he had not hurt Zarbon. Vegeta's own sessions with him almost always ended with him being sent to the tanks.
He frowned a little, positioning himself. Zarbon didn't move or make any protests anymore. Vegeta wanted him to wake, he wanted to see the amber eyes as he fucked him.
He entered him slowly, watching for a reaction. There was none. He supposed that he had passed out or fallen asleep. He was disappointed.
Vegeta began to move in and out of the body below him. He slapped Zarbon's face a few times in an attempt to wake him that only drew more of the tired little groans.
“Kind of useless, isn't he? Oh, I do hate when they break,” Frieza mused in a bored tone after watching them for a few minutes.
He stood up.
“I think I'll go and find a more “lively” source of entertainment. I'll leave you to your own devices.”
Vegeta watched him disappear through the door before looking back at Zarbon. He frowned again, pulling himself out.
He straddled the pretty boy's waist, peering down into his beautiful face. He allowed his fingers to play in the silky strands of green hair. He was positively angelic as he slept, but Vegeta wanted to make him scream. He wanted to make Zarbon hurt the way Frieza made him hurt.
He decided. He stood up and dragged Zarbon's limp form up onto the bed.
He was starting to stir. As he began to make noises that meant he was probably starting to wake, Vegeta entered him. Zarbon moaned, whether in pain or pleasure, Vegeta did not know or care.
“Lord...Frieza?” a tired voice murmured.
“No,” Vegeta replied in a cold, concise voice.
Zarbon blinked slowly a few times. He was disoriented, but he was awake.
“Vegeta?”
“Correct,” Vegeta said quietly, flashing him a predatory grin.
The first hard thrust produced the most wonderful of sounds, a fractured cry that left Vegeta's ears ringing. And the eyes---Oh, the eyes! They were wide with confusion, the haze seemed to be lifting from them.
Hands pushed against his chest, but Zarbon was still lethargic and weak from the drug.
Vegeta could smell the blood, it heightened his pleasure made him quicken his pace. He could barely hear Zarbon's pleas. Useless pleas that seemed so far away. Hands pressed insistently against his chest...
That smell was intoxicating, it made him want to...
Hands pressed against his chest... Thrusts hard enough to split someone in two... Cries that could wake the dead...
Vegeta hated him. He was Frieza's favorite, perfect Zarbon, whom he was constantly being compared to. He wanted to destroy him, to debase him, to leave him a perfect wreck. He envied him so much. He envied him his status, his beauty, and most of all his freedom.
Oh, how he craved freedom. His home, the place where he had been born, the place that held most of his happy memories was tainted and he needed to escape it. The palace and Planet Vegeta had become his prison. And his warden...a mad man who had...
He stopped, looking down at Zarbon in sheer shock. The hands were no longer pushing against him. He had given up and was crying softly.
Vegeta realized he was crying too, tears running silently down his cheeks. He wiped them and looked at the moisture on his hand as if it were something alien.
As he looked at Zarbon, he realized that this had been him on many occasions, that he had been left exhausted, bleeding, and sobbing in this very bed. He pushed down the guilt fiercely, refusing to feel sorry for this...this...
He pulled out, wiping himself on the sheets. When he got off the bed, he called servants to come and clean up the mess before stalking to the bathroom to take a shower.
As he stood under the cool water, he felt his senses returning. It wasn't good; his mind raced with images he'd suppressed and things he'd fought his whole life to control. And Control was everything.
Vegeta collapsed to his knees as the water ran over his body. Being in this place, being near Frieza was changing him somehow. He had to get out of this place...even if it killed him.
A.N: How was it? Review and tell me what you thought. I hope it wasn't too disturbing...well maybe I do a little seeing as that was my intention. So there is the plot of Vegeta's arc. I'll try and update as soon as possible.
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