Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Exotic Dancer ❯ Vegeta-sei ( Chapter 9 )
[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
By: Fire Kitten 
Bulma, Vegeta, and his troops finally make it to the Saiyan planet.
Anime/Manga: Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Mystery / Hentai / Drama / Adventure / Action / Romance | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 10.05.2010 | Pages: 8 | Words: 8.1K | Visits: 751 | Status: Work In Progress
Bulma, Vegeta, and his troops finally make it to the Saiyan planet.
Anime/Manga: Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Mystery / Hentai / Drama / Adventure / Action / Romance | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 10.05.2010 | Pages: 8 | Words: 8.1K | Visits: 751 | Status: Work In Progress
A/N: Hmm, not much to say this time, except this came out longer than what I originally planned. Enjoy ^_^
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Vegeta-sei
Goku was right. He couldn’t believe it. Not only have they passed the black-hole safely and as closely as possible, they had actually cut the time it took to go around it by half. The coordinates were exact; each was precise points of the outside boarder of the black-hole’s gravitational pull.
Now, they were mere minutes away from Vegeta-sei; his home planet. Needless to say, the Saiyan King and his troops were excited to get back home.
Although, he knew that his ‘guest’ had a lot to do with it. There was no way Goku would have figured out how to retrieve, process, and figure out all the data. So, if his fair-haired dancer did formulate the coordinates... what was her motive? Why did she want to help him out so badly?
Given she did disobey his orders, but to be honest, he was more impressed with her ballsy move instead of upset with her, but he was never going to let anybody know that.
He looked out of the window from the control center, his planet in full view. It was glorious, its crimson brilliance as vivid and intense as ever. Vegeta was filled with pride seeing his world.
It took him a while to pull away from the sight before him, but he needed to guide his troops with landing the ship.
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She waited in his room by the window. Goku was sent to look after her again, so he stood across from her, sitting on a chair as they both looked out into space.
Bulma was curious about Vegeta-sei. How could she not be? It was a whole new place for her. All she hoped for was that it wasn’t the least bit similar to Planet Frost.
“So, tell me about Vegeta-sei again.” she requested.
“What more is there to say, B?” her friendly companion asked, smiling at her.
“Hmmm…good point.”
“Well, we’re going to land pretty soon so you’ll be able to see Vegeta-sei for yourself.” he assured her.
“Yeah.” she distractedly said as she looked out the window, seeing the red planet standing proudly before of her.
Vegeta didn’t act upset or content the day he came back from using the coordinates. She was expecting him to walk into his room with the temper of Aries himself, ready to initiate and win a war against her. Needless to say, she wasn’t looking forward to him coming back that night.
However, instead he came back in a neutral mood. The dark Saiyan leader wasn’t angry, upset, moody, or glad. It made her uncomfortable; she wasn’t expecting him to be so ‘easy-going’. Vegeta was anything but easy.
Then, the blue-haired scientist had to wonder if he truly did believe that Goku was the one who came up with the points around the black-hole. It was good if he did, it would have meant that Goku was very convincing and persuasive. Although, that would have also meant that her ‘happy-go-lucky’ companion got all the credit for her hard work.
She knew that that was the last of her worries, but she couldn’t help but feel a bit ripped off.
“So, I guess it’s time to start heading out.” Goku said as he walked over to Vegeta’s bed and picked up a dark cloth that was laying on it.
Sighing, she stood up and walked over to him.
“I still don’t understand why I have to hide under this.”
“Don’t ask me. I don’t know either.” he said as he swung the black cloak around her, securely tying it from the front.
Vegeta had said that she will be performing at the celebration when they arrived, so she went ahead and dressed up. It was nothing over the top, just one of her simpler costumes; a golden ensemble that consisted of see-through pants, jewel encrusted top, veil, flat shoes, her jewelry, and a tiara-like head band.
Bulma’s bag in hand, Goku held out his arm for her. She took it as she put the dark hood on, ready to finally see Vegeta-sei
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The door to the ship opened, air being released as it did so. It lowered, becoming a walk way for the out-going voyagers.
Saiyan King stood in front of his troops, arms crossed in front of him as usual as he watched the door go down.
Bulma was in the middle of all the men, trying to remain as inconspicuous as possible as she still held on to Goku’s arm. She immediately felt the heat once those doors open, followed by a cool air.
However, she almost fell when she felt gravitational force pull her down, making her fiercely grip Goku. He in return held on to her, smiling in understanding.
So, Vegeta-sei had to be bigger planet than Earth to have such a heavy gravitational pull.
Her eyes went around looking at all the Saiyan’s, none of them seem to have been effected by the gravity. What’s more, none of them seem the notice the atmospheric change. They were most certainly accustomed to that kind of setting, and is probably one of the reasons for their signature muscled physique.
Sighing silently, she forced herself to stand up straight, knowing she was going to have to struggle against and get used to the new heaviness.
There was a crowd of Saiyans waiting for them with the elders standing in front in a neat line. Looking around, she noticed they weren’t outdoors. They were inside, what she understood to be, a base that held all the ships. It was a massive, mostly made out of a hard and durable metal, and it held many ships ranging in sizes.
She noticed that everyone wore variations of body armor, most uniformed much like the Saiyans she traveled with but in different colors along with different kinds of scouters. From where she stood, she saw that they all had one thing in common; they all had dark hair and dark eyes, ranging from navy, maroons, dark greens, plum, and the most common dark-brown and black —a very suitable characteristic feature. None the less, they were all ready to battle if needed. They were truly a gladiator-like race.
Vegeta was the first to walk toward them, everybody else following suit.
“King Vegeta.” said a grey haired Saiyan, as he took a step forward and proceeded to get on one knee, taking a low bow. His hands were fisted; left arm behind his back and the right across his chest, hand on his heart with tail loosely coiled on the floor.
In a rippling affect the rest did the same.
Fascinated, Bulma watched the interaction seeing the Saiyans show their respect as they lowly stooped down, from her point of view looking like rows of dominos falling.
Goku bowed down as well, having her do the same as she mimicked their pose; fisted left arm behind and fisted right arm in front. Everyone stood up in unison after the bowed pause.
It took a great effort on her part to stand back up, feeling like she had on a weighted body suit.
“It’s good to see that you and Vegeta-sei’s troops made it back safely.” the grey-haired elder continued.
“It’s good to be back.” Vegeta fluidly responded.
“What are your orders?”
Vegeta turned around to look behind him at his troops, “Properly shut down the ship and you are free to go to your rooms to rest.”
Doing as they were told, they scurried off to get the job done.
“As for the rest…” he turned back around, facing his awaiting people, “…prepare the celebration for our army.”
Everybody headed out to do as he had asked, except for the elders as they circled Vegeta, seemingly in a silent discussion amongst themselves.
Bulma looked up at Goku questioningly.
“Don’t worry, B.” her tall escort said as he started to make a b-line toward Vegeta.
“Sir.”
Dark King turned around annoyed at the interruption, “Yes, Kakarrot.”
“What about Bulma?”
His attention, along with senior Saiyans, was brought over to the dark cloaked figure.
“What’s this, Vegeta?” the same graying Saiyan asked.
Flame-haired man gave her a once look over, “Its tonight’s entertainment.” he answered.
Not liking what she was referred as, Bulma looked up and glared at Vegeta. She could almost swear the man went out of his way to irk her.
“Defiant little thing, isn’t she?” a bearded elder asked, obviously referring to the look she shot the King. “Not slave born I presume.”
“Can’t be too sure with dancers from Planet Frost.” Vegeta replied.
“You brought one of those exotic dancers here? Then tonight should be interesting, Your Highness.”
“We shall see.” Vegeta said, making eye-contact with the only set of bright-blue eyes; his statement meant for her more than anybody else. “We shall proceed with the discussion at hand in the next meeting.” he turned, addressing the elder men.
“Very well.” the bearded one agreed.
They all shortly bowed before turning around and heading out. Vegeta waited till they walked out of the base, his eyes keenly watching the group’s back.
Turning to face his soldier and the dancer, he opened his mouth, about to speak, but it was short lived as he was once again cut-off.
“King Vegeta.” came the low feminine tone, interrupting.
Three heads turned around to the voice’s source.
She was attractive, Bulma couldn’t deny that. She took her time walking over to them as her long, choppy hair flowed behind her.
“Tam.” Vegeta acknowledged, dark eye-brow rising at her presence.
“Did you miss me?” she asked as she reached him, placing one hand on his shoulder and positioning herself close to him, standing by his side.
Bulma watched their exchange, not sure of what to make of what she saw.
Blue eyes couldn’t help but examine the female Saiyan, looking at her up and down. Tam was about her height, muscular like all Saiyans, but not bulky. She wore a purple suit with armor. It emphasized her lean and strong muscles all the more. Her skin was tan, her hair a dark-brown matching her almond-shaped, sharp eyes.
Vegeta didn’t answer her, instead turned his attention back to Goku.
“Kakarrot.”
Goku reflexively straightened up.
“Take the dancer to one of the empty guest rooms. I’ll send Nappa for her later. Make sure you lock the door.”
“Yes, Sir.”
Like the rest of Vegeta’s subjects, Goku immediately did as he was told and made his way out, Bulma following his lead.
However, she couldn’t help by take a glance back, watching as Tam’s tail wove around Vegeta’s. She wasn’t quite sure what it meant, but the act seemed…intimate.
Right before she and Goku walked out the door, she caught a glimpse of Tam placing a kiss on the dark King’s cheek.
She knew it was silly, but she couldn’t help but not like what she saw.
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They walked down some halls. She assumed they were in the palace, but she wasn’t entirely sure.
Whenever she and Goku passed a window, she would momentarily stop. Vegeta-sei was different, breathtakingly beautiful, but still different.
Being the crimson planet that it was, its sky was red with many pink clouds. The terrain was red as well, although darker in pigment, but the further away the darker the ground became, till it reached the black mountains. Those onyx mountains stood tall and prominent, leaving her in awe as she stared at them. The red sky matching the rich, black landscape, looking celestial, resembling, what she imagined, a volcanic ruby and ebony Egypt would look like.
To her far left she saw body of bright cherry liquid; its ocean like waves rhythmically calm, its ripples neon-orange in color. The lava-water reaching the black sand of Vegeta-sei’s shore, leaving wet, glowing outlines of the infra-red water in its wake, the contrast of the electric red-orange and black ground marvelous, like liquid-fire on ashy-smoke. She wondered if that water burned like the hot magma of her home planet it was similar to.
Above in the same red sky, stood two bright orange suns, one seemingly closer to the planet than the other. Below she saw beings scurrying about preparing for the ‘Welcome Home Celebration’.
She could undeniably say that Vegeta-sei was the complete opposite of Planet Frost.
“Wow.” she whispered under her breath, admiring the regional beauty, not yet tired of its splendor.
Detaching her gaze from the window, she looked over at Goku, seeing he had left her behind. Momentarily jogging, Bulma managed to catch up to her favorite Saiyan.
“So, Goku.”
“Yeah?”
“Who was that lady?”
“Tamatia?”
“So, I take it that ‘Tam’ is just a nickname?”
“Yeah. She’s Vegeta’s betrothed.”
“Seriously?” she frowned at his answer. She couldn’t stand unfaithful men whether they were from her species or not.
Goku let out a chuckle at her reaction, “Well, they were supposed to be, but, I don’t know what happened. I guess Vegeta’s father changed his mind.”
“Are they… together?”
“No. Her family is one of the more powerful Saiyans here and they want them together so they can be closer to the throne and so that Tam can give birth to Vegeta-sei’s heir.”
“But…Vegeta doesn’t want that?”
“He never really seemed interested in Tam… that I know of. But she’s always been after him.”
‘Hmm, fascinating.’ she thought to herself. It was typical of royal families to continue betrothing their children. Although, in Vegeta-sei it seemed betrothing was based on strength, not nobility or wealth. Strength and power seemed to be the one thing most valued.
“So, here’s your room.” he stopped at a metallic door, punching buttons into the lock, Bulma following the pattern.
The door slid open, allowing them entry.
Stepping into the room, she noticed it was bigger than what she was accustomed to in Planet Frost. It was a plain, but nonetheless spacious, complete with a neat bed, closet, night-stands, and dresser.
Goku walked over to the bed and placed her bag on it.
Taking her cloak off, she placed it on the bed as well.
“So, is this it?” she asked, her eyes still roaming about the room.
“Yup. My room is a few doors over, so if you need anything, B, just let me know.”
“You really are my guardian angel. You know that?” she kindly smiled at him.
“I’m only trying to help out. Besides, you helped me look good with those coordinates.” he sheepishly answered.
“Hmm, true. Well, since you’re helping… do you know what time the big, bald-headed ignoramus will be by?”
He laughed at her implication, “Nappa’s not too bad. But, he’ll probably be by sometime after dark.”
“Thanks, Goku. Now, get out of here and try to get some rest…or food.” she jokingly shooed him.
His eyes widened with the mention of ‘food’, seemingly unaware that he was hungry, “You don’t have to tell me twice.” He turned to head out the door.
“Bye, Goku. Thanks again for everything.”
“Sure thing, B.” he waved as the door slid shut behind him.
She was left alone. Standing momentarily, she took in the silence and solitude; closing her eyes, taking a deep breath in, and gradually letting it out.
‘Finally.’ she thought. ‘Some time to myself.’
The bed stood behind her, knowing this, she intentionally fell back, landing on the mattress. Her arms sprawled beside her, taking full advantage and the space. Her eyes drifted shut with the intention of just letting them rest, involuntarily starting to join dream-land.
~*SSSSHHHHHHHH!!!*~
Cerulean eyes shot open at the static sound, alarm tingling her every nerve. Sitting up, her ears perked up, trying to identify the noise.
~*"B? Are you there?"*~
Bulma recognized the sound and most importantly, she recognized the voice. Quickly looking through her bag, she searched for the radio device she had assembled.
Finding the gadget, she grabbed it and placed it next to her lips, thankful that it worked and even more so remembering to leave a radio behind for her best-friend back in Planet Frost.
“Chichi?” she spoke into it.
There was a brief silence…
“Chichi?” concern started to bubble, worry evident in her query.
~*“Bulma! Oh, Kami! How have you been?!”*~ came Chichi’s excited reply.
She sighed; unaware that she had been holding in her breath. The corners of her mouth turned up, smiling at her friend’s warm and vivacious personality.
“I’ve been fine. Where are you?”
~*“Hiding in the assigned closet they call my room.”*~
“Are you safe?”
~*“As safe as I can expect to be. But I don’t have much time, so spill and tell me all about the Saiyans. How are they treating you? What’s the King like? Has he fallen for you yet? When will I see you again?”*~
Bulma had told Chichi about the bargain with Frieza, and had promised that if she was going to be set free, she was taking her feisty, dark-haired friend with her—with or without the lizard’s permission.
“Geesh, Chich, one question at a time. They’re treating me fine. Although, ‘his highness’ did assign me a chaperone; I don’t think he trusts me. But, the guy sent to follow me around is strangely super sweet, funny, a bit naïve, and seems to be the only being here that actually does trust me. He even helped me sneak into the lab. Let’s see…the King is still being difficult. I doubt that he will ever be able to have feelings for anyone. I feel like its hopeless, but I’m not giving up, ok? We’re going to get out of this mess one way or another. Right?” she rambled.
There was more silence from the other end, however, Bulma patiently waited for an answer back.
~*“B… did you listen to what you just said?”*~
Eyebrows come down in a frown, “What do you mean?”
~*“One way or another? Meaning there’s another way out of this hell-hole.”*~
Bulma blinked, unsure of what her friend was trying to tell her.
~*"Look, I’ve been thinking a lot about this. In all the years that we’ve been in Planet Frost, have you ever seen Frieza actually come through with a deal? Has he ever let any slave go?”*~
“No…”
~*“Exactly! So, how sure are you that he’ll cut the ‘ball-and-chain’ and let you, or even me, go free? Even with the service you’re providing?”*~
Her mind was overtaken by the question, trying to think of a time when the Frost leader showed any mercy, replaying the logic voiced out by her friend.
~*“B, I don’t mean to worry you but… Frieza has been coming down harder on the slaves, especially humans. Like, just yesterday, two bed-maids were taken down to that prison underground and were almost beat to death, for no good reason.”*~
“What!? How are they?”
~*“I don’t know.”*~
“And you? How are you doing? Have they done anything to you?”
~*“No, not yet.”*~
“Yet!?”
~*“Don’t get angry. Listen to me, ok? From what you’re telling me, it sounds like these Saiyans aren’t so bad. Can I say they’re even being… humane?”*~
She sighed, “That can be up for discussion. I don’t mean to burst your bubble, but there’s only one Saiyan that’s actually nice here, Chichi.”
~*“Well, did you ever hear the saying ‘My enemy’s enemy is my friend’?”*~
“Yes.”
~*“Well, did you ever think about the possibility of joining the Saiyans to bring down the big, purple baddie? It’s not too crazy of an idea, you know.”*~
“I guess not.” Bulma considerately answered. “But it’s drastic, it might backfire.”
~*“But, does it sound more promising?”*~
“Anything sounds more promising than what comes out of the giant lizard’s mouth.”
~*“So…”*~
“So… when did you start getting so smart?”
She could hear Chichi’s laugh coming from the radio. Bulma missed her friend.
~*“Living as a slave kinda forces you to grow-up and smarten-up.”*~
“Don’t I know it.”
There was more silence again, except for the static buzzing from the line. She was already getting annoyed by those quiet breaks amid their conversation.
The time gap was longer this time, making her wonder if the connection was temporary or if it was cut off. Her mind quickly went into diagnosing the problem, weighing out all the problematic scenarios that are plausible and scheming of ways to fix it, not satisfied with the discontinuance of their chat.
However, those thoughts paused as Chichi finally spoke…
~*“Bulma…”*~ she said, her voice sounding shaky from the receiver.
“Yeah?” her eyebrows knotted up, the sudden nervousness in Chichi’s tone not getting passed her.
She heard the start of sniffling and of raspy breathing. Closing her eyes and clenching her jaw, she felt the aching and suffering from her long-time companion. How she wanted to wrap her arms around her and let her cry till she no longer could to vent out all her frustrations.
~*“I’m so scared.”*~ she whispered through muffled and croaky whimpers.
“Chichi…” she started, willing all the strength she had to sound as convincingly strong as possible, although her heart stung at her friend’s pain, “…I’m going to get us out of here. I swear. I’ll come back for you. Stay tough for a little while longer, Chich.”
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She sat starring at herself through the reflection of the mirror before her; her face made-up, blue and green eye-shadow, rose blush, and nude lips. Blue hair left loose about her shoulders in soft waves. She knew she looked acceptable, good even, but that didn’t matter—nothing was going to bring her out of her foul mood.
Sitting on the little cushioned chair that matched the vanity table inside a spacious changing room, she went over her impromptu plan in her head, hoping that it will work. The last thing she wanted that night was to dance, especially for a group of rowdy men.
From what she understood, her performance was solely meant for the adults. There will be no children allowed, so there won’t be any flashy acrobatics needed from her part. Needless to say, she was grateful for that. However, she wasn’t informed whether or not there will be females in the audience. She crossed her fingers, hoping that there were. Women were vital in her plan.
Bulma could hear all of the celebrating Saiyans outside; laughing and loud music abundantly audible. It was a good sign.
Breathing in, she had to mentally psych herself up. Her brisk conversation with Chichi had left her worried about her friend’s well being, frustrated over her impotent state, and had her seeing red and shaking with rage at the revolting Frost leader. Just thinking about it made her blood boil again but, she needed to stay calm and collected, at least for a moment.
Unsteadily letting the air out, she waited for the change of music. Taking a few more deep breaths, she managed to placate her temper.
The up-beat tempo died down—her cue.
She stood, jumping to test the gravity and giving herself a once over.
Tonight, she wanted to remain as inconspicuous as possible. However, looking though her wardrobe, she couldn’t find anything lackluster. She had to make do with what she had, so she opted for a black ensemble, although it shimmered dark-purple with hints of green under the light—like how spilled oil swirled in a puddle of water.
Her bikini top had dragon-like scales and her bottom consisting of dark short-shorts, with layers of sheer black, plum, and violet cloth hanging from her shorts, top, and bracelets along her wrists and arms. In addition, she wore matching three-inch heel boots that, she was aware, wasn’t a good idea for the type of belly-dancing, but if things went the way she wanted then her foot-ware won’t be much of a problem.
Taking the black cloak Goku had placed on her earlier, she swung it around her and pulled the hood over her head. Walking through the long curtains of the exit, she took her veil and placed it over her nose, tying it securely from the back through her hair, never forgetting to use the translucent cover.
The palace was decorated in rich reds, purples, and golds. Even outside, matching the now darkened sky, reminding her of Arabian nights.
The beginning of the song started, just as she made it to the front of the mass of Saiyans. She didn’t move as she looked around taking her surroundings; the tables, Saiyan civilians, the food, the drinks, noticing the dim lighting, and most importantly of all, she sized the audience, picking out many, many females in the crowd.
She inwardly smiled.
Most were sitting. The Elders and the Saiyans that she remembered from the ship were sitting up front; the bearded one, the grey-haired one, the bald one, the one with the long hair, Goku, the King, and Tam sitting by his side.
Blue brow involuntarily rose at the sight of the attractive female Saiyan.
The audience was waiting, the stillness from her tugging their curiosities. So, she set about to her job, carefully listening to the rhythm.
It was a slow, sensual dark-rock. Seductive in a way that’ll eventually bring you down, like a potent drug there was the promise of pleasurable abandon in its every note.
Her hips slowly moved, her hands going up to the tie upfront, untying her cloak and letting it waterfall down on the floor.
She moved her body leisurely, turning her hips from side to side, steadily spinning once making sure her movements were emphasized by the hanging material on her outfit.
Now it was time to set her plan in motion.
Sashaying her way to the crowd, she was first going to give her attention to some of the men up front, to keep them on their toes. Her hand touched a shoulder, the long haired one that looked like Goku. Her fingers delicately and deliberately ran along his chest as she circled him, making eye contact with him as she did so without losing the tempo of the music.
Goku was next, although she couldn’t find it in herself to try to be sexy to him. Instead, she stood behind him and leaned down to hug her new friend. She placed a sweet kiss on his cheek through her shawl, making him blush in return as he tenderly patted her arm around him. Her mouth went over to his ear, whispering something to him. He nodded and smiled in response.
The exchange didn’t go unnoticed by the dark King as his eyes, like everyone else, followed the blue-haired foreigner.
Bulma wove her way through the men, continuing to charm them with a simple touch and a sway of her hips in various ways, some tails unwinding through her course.
Vegeta’s turn came up. She stood in front of him, giving him a quick once over. She noticed how more lavishly dressed he was. He still wore his trademark navy-blue attire and white armor, but it was plated with heavy gold along his shoulders and hips, as well as over his white boots and gloves, seeming to work as knee-pads and arm-guards. A red cape hung long from his armor, making him look rightly like royalty as he astutely sat on his throne.
However, as quickly as she surveyed him, she walked passed him, purposely ignoring him as she made her way to another man.
Narrowing his eyes at her, he involuntarily growled under his breath.
Swaying her body she made her way to a couple a ladies; both with midnight black hair. Walking around them, she purposely laced a finger through one of their locks, twirling it in her grasp as they stared up at her. Conjuring up enough courage, she liberally sat on one of their laps, surprising her as she did so. Bulma could smell the thick scent of liquor and hoped that the substance will aid her in the small quest.
She placed her palm against the tan woman’s chest, feeling her heart-beat pump avidly as she looked at her through blinking eyes, a light glaze of intoxication evident in them.
There wasn’t much needed to be done. It was surprisingly effortless; with a simple eye-lock with both females, Bulma stood, taking a hold of their hands as she led them to the empty center of the room.
Her hands freely roamed her volunteers; holding their hips and guiding them to follow and sway to the rhythm, wandering over taunt abs and up between their breasts, lightly combing through their black tresses in an intimate matter as she pressed their bodies together.
Although at first it seemed that they were wary about her actions, they inevitably imitated Bulma’s movements, dancing on their own accord as their tails relaxed and unwound from their hips.
Seeing this, she left them, making her way into the crowd again. Boots clacking in her wake, she picked out two more ladies. Much like the first midnight-haired women, she showed and maneuvered the next two ladies’ forms till they intuitively did the same.
Blue dancer continued this scheme, picking out the females two at a time, sporadically compelling a few to another shot of the whisky-like alcohol and guiding them to the dance floor. Her eyes occasionally travel to the males, observing how engrossed they were with the visual she was providing; a group of glistening with sweat, tan, Amazon-like women twisting and turning to the tempo of the slow, dark-rock. Moving bodies pressed together, fingers touching, tails swinging to and fro, lost in the music.
Thank Kami for alcohol and its influence to subdue any inhibitions.
Now for the men.
Similar to the way she won over the women, she chose two men. They, however, didn’t need much persuasion. Holding out her hands, they easily complied with her invitation as they let the iridescently dressed dancer lead them to the middle of the throng of women.
She carried on, taking the men out to dance two by two, a light glaze of sweat now noticeably evident over her entire form.
Dark eyes intensely trailed her, watching her with immense interest and curiosity.
The once viewing audience had turned into performing horde of the freely dancing. Men and women alike rocked to the beat, merging with one another.
Her line of sight wandered over to the appealing brunette by Vegeta’s side, the urge to examine her closer unexpectedly stirring up, her curiosity getting the best of her.
So she strutted over, her eyes focused on Tam.
Standing before her, Bulma held out her hand, wanting to take the King’s supposed betrothed out to dance.
However, Tam hesitantly stared from the held out palm up to Bulma, remaining seated and uncooperative. Those dark-brown orbs looked over at Vegeta, briefly lingering before traveling to meet the veiled performer.
Bulma did very much the same, following her vision, glancing from the calm, watchful King back to the immovable woman. She quickly understood the issue in hand remembering what Goku told her earlier that day. Naturally, she knew Tam would be reluctant to leave Vegeta’s side—after all she has an interest in him. With that in mind, she knew exactly what to do.
She sauntered over to Vegeta throwing the brown-haired female a puckish yet challenging look, conscious of the fact that there was now no probability of ever befriending Tam.
Reaching him, she bowed down low, left arm behind and right arm in front, hands fisted like she had seen done before, showing him the sign for respect. She knew full well she needed to stroke his ego a bit before continuing her ploy.
He raised an eyebrow at the obeisance.
She subsequently stood, making her way to straddle him, leisurely placing her legs on either side of him, very much like all those private times in his bedroom.
Cerulean irises kept eye-contact with chocolate brown as she grounded her form onto his, slowly rotating her hips as her hands rested on the base of his shoulders. She was rewarded with a green-eyed glare from her, making her grin in triumph.
With the intention of parting from him to stand up, she gasped as she was abruptly stopped. His hands grasped her thighs, pulling her back toward him. She looked down to meet his disapproving glare.
The purpose of Bulma’s actions didn’t go unseen by him.
Their eyes stayed locked on one another as a short staring contest was issued between them; he was seemingly uncaring of the company to his side and she was fully aware of the intense glare emitted at their direction. Quickly glancing to her side, she put a stop to their little game as she signaling over to the Tam, reminding him of her presence.
Silently sighing, he released his hold on her, letting her readjust as she moved to sit on one lap, facing the other woman. She, once again, held out her hand to the brunette, now inviting her to come to both she and the King.
Finally complying, she stood, making her way over to them.
Bulma took the chance and stood up as well, willing Vegeta to do the same with a gentle arm tug just as Tam reached them. Holding her hand and his wrist, she led the way, guiding them to the middle of the floor as they trailed behind.
Once inside the dancing crowd, Bulma’s last task was cut short as the physically stronger female just about nudged her out of the way in her attempt to hog Vegeta all to herself.
Knowing about Saiyan’s competitive nature, she wasn’t surprised.
Putting some distance between her and the now dancing couple, she stayed and danced only for a little while longer.
Checking the active and moving mob, she made sure no one’s attention was on her, although she couldn’t help her attention being brought over to them, taking a quick glance at the Saiyan leader and his dancing partner before making her move, fluidly trekked toward the exit.
Her goal was reached. Feeling grateful, relived, and as close to free as was currently possible, she didn’t stop her walk. Moments like these were few, far off, and rarely as simple to execute as it had been. Now all she wanted to do was try and see if she could once more communicate with Chichi.
Her pace quickened with her friend in mind, almost breaking out in a run. Entering the changing room the bald-headed Saiyan had brought her to earlier, she quickly looked around for her bag. Locating it by the vanity table, she made her way over to retrieve it. She bent down, her hand about to enclose around the strap, but stopped as she caught her own reflection.
Frowning, she looked at the replicate image of herself. Scantily clad and glistening with perspiration. What would her parents think if they saw what their little scientist has become?
Shaking that thought away, she placed her hands on the table, leaning on it for support. Closing her eyes, she took a moment to collect herself, making sure she kept her simmering emotions in check. Her light veil stirred against her deep breathing, going up with every exhale and down with every inhale.
Her mind unintentionally trailed over to him. She saw enough to know the King will be entertained for the rest of the night. His hand resting on Tam’s waist, her arms around his shoulders, standing close together under that soft lighting…
What did she care anyways?
Although, how wise was it to leave the man you’re compelled to seduce in the hands of another woman?
Taking another lone period for herself, she concentrated on her palpating heart. The thumping steady and strong, even with slight twinge of a foreign feeling she felt, but couldn’t quite name.
She felt her hair stand on end, fully alert…
“Where do you think you’re going?” he voiced raucously.
She didn’t have to look behind to the source of the voice to know who it was and didn’t bother to turn. Her eyes looked up at the mirror, seeing him standing behind her through the reflection. He leaned by the wall, his arms crossed before him.
Her borrow furrowed all the more. Hadn’t she left him with Tam?
“Bed.” she simply stated, feeling strangely upset with him.
He narrowed his eyes at her, “Is that so?”
Bulma didn’t bother answering back, glaring at the young King.
Vegeta noticed this, seeing fire in those ice-blue orbs.
Lightly pushing himself off the wall, he made his way toward her, his stride meticulous, his footsteps almost soundless. He stopped only centimeters away from her, standing menacingly behind her.
She could feel his hot breath on her shoulder—his dark eyes keenly looking at her through their reflection as she looked right back.
“Do you think I can’t see right through you?” lips spoke by her ear. “Do you think I wouldn’t notice all those little stunts you pulled? Or that I wouldn’t be on to you, woman?”
“Whatever I say… you wouldn’t believe anyways.”
“Regardless, I still want an explanation.”
She stubbornly didn’t answer.
He growled, “What are you playing at?”
“I’m not playing at anything.”
“Don’t lie, woman.” he lowly said, venom pouring out of every letter.
“I’m not lying.”
“Really?” his scowl deepened, “Why are you so eagerly helping us?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
Another threatening growl was emitted by the dark Saiyan, obviously disliking her lack of a useful response.
She paused, feeling the rumbling from him, carefully studying the scowling man’s features next to hers; sharp nose, deep brows, caramel complexion, lips… full, warm lips. Licking her own under the shawl, she for once cautiously chose her words wisely, debating whether she should in fact tell him about her assigned mission or continue with her deception. Frieza wasn’t giving her much hope for her future, so the question was mute, wasn’t it?
Blue-head turned around to face him, her eyes locking on to his, engulfed with warm determination and cold dread, “I don’t want to go back.” she softly answered, revealing her fear.
He would be lying to himself if he said he wasn’t taken back by her genuine reply, all the more feeling her ki not flicker with any sign of dishonesty, but he would never let her know that. Instead, he wanted to use her miniscule show of vulnerability for his own purpose.
“Oh?” he gently took a hold of her shawl, pulling it down, getting the thin, translucent cover out of the way. “What exactly are you saying?” he brought his hand to her clavicle. He ran one finger back and forth along her collar bone, her skin still moist.
She could feel shivers run up her spine and not just from his touch, but from the menace swirled in the dark vortex of his eyes.
“You don’t want to be that lizard’s pet anymore?” he patronized, one knuckle diligently making its way down, breaking his eye contact to look at his toying digit stroking her chest, up and down creamy mounds.
She didn’t pull away and she tried not to react as well, but she couldn’t help the involuntary effects on her body.
Noticing this, he continued his path, traveling downward to her abdomen, seeing the muscles tighten as he outlined her belly-button.
“What are you offering in exchange to stay?”
Her eyes narrowed at his implications.
He laughed amused, “You’re not wanting, but you are willing.” he noted. “And you’re not even so much willing as you are, for the lack of a better word… coerced, obligated.” Same hand traveled up to pull on azure locks.
His breath hovered over hers. She could smell the lingering alcohol, making her wrinkle her nose in displeasure.
“How much have you had to drink?”
“Not nearly enough.” he bit out.
He stood observing her, eyes traveling over her features. Gloved hand went over her neck; his thumb caressing her jaw, her cheek, going over rose petal lips. He could feel his mouth water in anticipation.
His lips came over hers in one single, soft kiss. They journeyed down her chin and across her jaw, softly nibbling on an ear-lobe.
She shuddered closing her eyes, her hands coming up to rest on his taunt arms.
His hot breath feathered her ear, tantalizing teeth grazing the delicate area down her neck, then right back up.
Another shudder. This man, although insufferable, always had a way to spark up the fire. The sensations feeling like electricity across her skin, the carnal need he demonstrated making her feel hot and feverish, her cheeks flushing with color.
But… she couldn’t. Not now. Not when her friend was in possible peril. A stabbing guilt washed over her, followed by shame for the pleasurable feelings evoked.
He slightly parted from her, their lips only a fraction on an inch away.
His breath floated over hers, “I can break you.” he sinisterly murmured.
Like an icy bucket of cold reality, her eyes shot open with his statement, pulling back from his hold.
“What did you say?”
He grinned, both his arms circling her form, embracing her tighter, keeping her still as she squirmed for release. “I can see it in your eyes.” he continued, “You have that fighting spirit in you. You haven’t been broken yet.”
“And what? You want to be the one that does it?”
He smirked, bringing his mouth over her in one persisting kiss, answering her question. When she didn’t comply, he bit her bottom lip in punishment. She couldn’t help the whimper that escaped, giving him the chance to enter her mouth, taking full advantage of the opportunity.
His lips were demanding on hers, sucking on her irresistible pouty bottom, his tongue intertwining with hers.
Breaking away, he was met with swollen, dewy lips as well as her still heated, loathing orbs on him.
“Say what’s on your mind, woman.” he commanded.
Digging nails on his arm dug all the more, “I Hate You.” she firmly replied.
He chuckled, “Good. You should hate me.”
Shaking with rage, she didn’t know where she found it in herself. Placing her hands on his hard armor, she found the strength to finally shove him off.
“You arrogant, insufferable, heart-less, asshole!”
He laughed. The snickering sounding ominous, amused, cold. She instantly realized he let her push him away.
Blue-head was now seething and sneering in rage. Fisted hands shook beside her, her vision hazy with the onslaught of fury, her blood bubbling in reaction to him. She wanted to give him a dose of his own medicine.
Seeing the twisted man before her, she was indeed fuming, but oddly she wasn’t disgusted by him, but rather…
Marching up to him, she pushed him against a wall, slamming her lips on his, surprising the Saiyan King. Her body tightly pressed up against his, one hand laced in his dark hair, the other finding and stroking his hard member, her kiss just as demanding as his was on her.
His tail unwound from his waist, snaking its way around her thigh, his hands easily placed on her hips.
Parting from the kiss, she pulled his hair roughly, giving her better access trace his jaw-line with her tongue, leaving a hot, wet trail in her course. She licked and sucked on his lobe, earning her a low moan from the dark King.
Her mouth grazed his ear, her hand threateningly tightening her hold on his groin, causing him to slightly wince at the promised pain. “You’ll never break me, Your Highness.”
He growled. The noise swallowed in her mouth as she once again slammed her lips over his.
OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO
A/N: Well, there you have it. If I’ve been too descriptive or lengthy, I apologize. I did take it down many notches in describing Bulma’s outfit. And I’m not sure how ‘realistic’ the last scenes were, but that idea has been floating around in my head. I read and re-read this a million times, so I hope I wrote it as good as how I imagined. ^_^
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Vegeta-sei
Goku was right. He couldn’t believe it. Not only have they passed the black-hole safely and as closely as possible, they had actually cut the time it took to go around it by half. The coordinates were exact; each was precise points of the outside boarder of the black-hole’s gravitational pull.
Now, they were mere minutes away from Vegeta-sei; his home planet. Needless to say, the Saiyan King and his troops were excited to get back home.
Although, he knew that his ‘guest’ had a lot to do with it. There was no way Goku would have figured out how to retrieve, process, and figure out all the data. So, if his fair-haired dancer did formulate the coordinates... what was her motive? Why did she want to help him out so badly?
Given she did disobey his orders, but to be honest, he was more impressed with her ballsy move instead of upset with her, but he was never going to let anybody know that.
He looked out of the window from the control center, his planet in full view. It was glorious, its crimson brilliance as vivid and intense as ever. Vegeta was filled with pride seeing his world.
It took him a while to pull away from the sight before him, but he needed to guide his troops with landing the ship.
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She waited in his room by the window. Goku was sent to look after her again, so he stood across from her, sitting on a chair as they both looked out into space.
Bulma was curious about Vegeta-sei. How could she not be? It was a whole new place for her. All she hoped for was that it wasn’t the least bit similar to Planet Frost.
“So, tell me about Vegeta-sei again.” she requested.
“What more is there to say, B?” her friendly companion asked, smiling at her.
“Hmmm…good point.”
“Well, we’re going to land pretty soon so you’ll be able to see Vegeta-sei for yourself.” he assured her.
“Yeah.” she distractedly said as she looked out the window, seeing the red planet standing proudly before of her.
Vegeta didn’t act upset or content the day he came back from using the coordinates. She was expecting him to walk into his room with the temper of Aries himself, ready to initiate and win a war against her. Needless to say, she wasn’t looking forward to him coming back that night.
However, instead he came back in a neutral mood. The dark Saiyan leader wasn’t angry, upset, moody, or glad. It made her uncomfortable; she wasn’t expecting him to be so ‘easy-going’. Vegeta was anything but easy.
Then, the blue-haired scientist had to wonder if he truly did believe that Goku was the one who came up with the points around the black-hole. It was good if he did, it would have meant that Goku was very convincing and persuasive. Although, that would have also meant that her ‘happy-go-lucky’ companion got all the credit for her hard work.
She knew that that was the last of her worries, but she couldn’t help but feel a bit ripped off.
“So, I guess it’s time to start heading out.” Goku said as he walked over to Vegeta’s bed and picked up a dark cloth that was laying on it.
Sighing, she stood up and walked over to him.
“I still don’t understand why I have to hide under this.”
“Don’t ask me. I don’t know either.” he said as he swung the black cloak around her, securely tying it from the front.
Vegeta had said that she will be performing at the celebration when they arrived, so she went ahead and dressed up. It was nothing over the top, just one of her simpler costumes; a golden ensemble that consisted of see-through pants, jewel encrusted top, veil, flat shoes, her jewelry, and a tiara-like head band.
Bulma’s bag in hand, Goku held out his arm for her. She took it as she put the dark hood on, ready to finally see Vegeta-sei
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The door to the ship opened, air being released as it did so. It lowered, becoming a walk way for the out-going voyagers.
Saiyan King stood in front of his troops, arms crossed in front of him as usual as he watched the door go down.
Bulma was in the middle of all the men, trying to remain as inconspicuous as possible as she still held on to Goku’s arm. She immediately felt the heat once those doors open, followed by a cool air.
However, she almost fell when she felt gravitational force pull her down, making her fiercely grip Goku. He in return held on to her, smiling in understanding.
So, Vegeta-sei had to be bigger planet than Earth to have such a heavy gravitational pull.
Her eyes went around looking at all the Saiyan’s, none of them seem to have been effected by the gravity. What’s more, none of them seem the notice the atmospheric change. They were most certainly accustomed to that kind of setting, and is probably one of the reasons for their signature muscled physique.
Sighing silently, she forced herself to stand up straight, knowing she was going to have to struggle against and get used to the new heaviness.
There was a crowd of Saiyans waiting for them with the elders standing in front in a neat line. Looking around, she noticed they weren’t outdoors. They were inside, what she understood to be, a base that held all the ships. It was a massive, mostly made out of a hard and durable metal, and it held many ships ranging in sizes.
She noticed that everyone wore variations of body armor, most uniformed much like the Saiyans she traveled with but in different colors along with different kinds of scouters. From where she stood, she saw that they all had one thing in common; they all had dark hair and dark eyes, ranging from navy, maroons, dark greens, plum, and the most common dark-brown and black —a very suitable characteristic feature. None the less, they were all ready to battle if needed. They were truly a gladiator-like race.
Vegeta was the first to walk toward them, everybody else following suit.
“King Vegeta.” said a grey haired Saiyan, as he took a step forward and proceeded to get on one knee, taking a low bow. His hands were fisted; left arm behind his back and the right across his chest, hand on his heart with tail loosely coiled on the floor.
In a rippling affect the rest did the same.
Fascinated, Bulma watched the interaction seeing the Saiyans show their respect as they lowly stooped down, from her point of view looking like rows of dominos falling.
Goku bowed down as well, having her do the same as she mimicked their pose; fisted left arm behind and fisted right arm in front. Everyone stood up in unison after the bowed pause.
It took a great effort on her part to stand back up, feeling like she had on a weighted body suit.
“It’s good to see that you and Vegeta-sei’s troops made it back safely.” the grey-haired elder continued.
“It’s good to be back.” Vegeta fluidly responded.
“What are your orders?”
Vegeta turned around to look behind him at his troops, “Properly shut down the ship and you are free to go to your rooms to rest.”
Doing as they were told, they scurried off to get the job done.
“As for the rest…” he turned back around, facing his awaiting people, “…prepare the celebration for our army.”
Everybody headed out to do as he had asked, except for the elders as they circled Vegeta, seemingly in a silent discussion amongst themselves.
Bulma looked up at Goku questioningly.
“Don’t worry, B.” her tall escort said as he started to make a b-line toward Vegeta.
“Sir.”
Dark King turned around annoyed at the interruption, “Yes, Kakarrot.”
“What about Bulma?”
His attention, along with senior Saiyans, was brought over to the dark cloaked figure.
“What’s this, Vegeta?” the same graying Saiyan asked.
Flame-haired man gave her a once look over, “Its tonight’s entertainment.” he answered.
Not liking what she was referred as, Bulma looked up and glared at Vegeta. She could almost swear the man went out of his way to irk her.
“Defiant little thing, isn’t she?” a bearded elder asked, obviously referring to the look she shot the King. “Not slave born I presume.”
“Can’t be too sure with dancers from Planet Frost.” Vegeta replied.
“You brought one of those exotic dancers here? Then tonight should be interesting, Your Highness.”
“We shall see.” Vegeta said, making eye-contact with the only set of bright-blue eyes; his statement meant for her more than anybody else. “We shall proceed with the discussion at hand in the next meeting.” he turned, addressing the elder men.
“Very well.” the bearded one agreed.
They all shortly bowed before turning around and heading out. Vegeta waited till they walked out of the base, his eyes keenly watching the group’s back.
Turning to face his soldier and the dancer, he opened his mouth, about to speak, but it was short lived as he was once again cut-off.
“King Vegeta.” came the low feminine tone, interrupting.
Three heads turned around to the voice’s source.
She was attractive, Bulma couldn’t deny that. She took her time walking over to them as her long, choppy hair flowed behind her.
“Tam.” Vegeta acknowledged, dark eye-brow rising at her presence.
“Did you miss me?” she asked as she reached him, placing one hand on his shoulder and positioning herself close to him, standing by his side.
Bulma watched their exchange, not sure of what to make of what she saw.
Blue eyes couldn’t help but examine the female Saiyan, looking at her up and down. Tam was about her height, muscular like all Saiyans, but not bulky. She wore a purple suit with armor. It emphasized her lean and strong muscles all the more. Her skin was tan, her hair a dark-brown matching her almond-shaped, sharp eyes.
Vegeta didn’t answer her, instead turned his attention back to Goku.
“Kakarrot.”
Goku reflexively straightened up.
“Take the dancer to one of the empty guest rooms. I’ll send Nappa for her later. Make sure you lock the door.”
“Yes, Sir.”
Like the rest of Vegeta’s subjects, Goku immediately did as he was told and made his way out, Bulma following his lead.
However, she couldn’t help by take a glance back, watching as Tam’s tail wove around Vegeta’s. She wasn’t quite sure what it meant, but the act seemed…intimate.
Right before she and Goku walked out the door, she caught a glimpse of Tam placing a kiss on the dark King’s cheek.
She knew it was silly, but she couldn’t help but not like what she saw.
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They walked down some halls. She assumed they were in the palace, but she wasn’t entirely sure.
Whenever she and Goku passed a window, she would momentarily stop. Vegeta-sei was different, breathtakingly beautiful, but still different.
Being the crimson planet that it was, its sky was red with many pink clouds. The terrain was red as well, although darker in pigment, but the further away the darker the ground became, till it reached the black mountains. Those onyx mountains stood tall and prominent, leaving her in awe as she stared at them. The red sky matching the rich, black landscape, looking celestial, resembling, what she imagined, a volcanic ruby and ebony Egypt would look like.
To her far left she saw body of bright cherry liquid; its ocean like waves rhythmically calm, its ripples neon-orange in color. The lava-water reaching the black sand of Vegeta-sei’s shore, leaving wet, glowing outlines of the infra-red water in its wake, the contrast of the electric red-orange and black ground marvelous, like liquid-fire on ashy-smoke. She wondered if that water burned like the hot magma of her home planet it was similar to.
Above in the same red sky, stood two bright orange suns, one seemingly closer to the planet than the other. Below she saw beings scurrying about preparing for the ‘Welcome Home Celebration’.
She could undeniably say that Vegeta-sei was the complete opposite of Planet Frost.
“Wow.” she whispered under her breath, admiring the regional beauty, not yet tired of its splendor.
Detaching her gaze from the window, she looked over at Goku, seeing he had left her behind. Momentarily jogging, Bulma managed to catch up to her favorite Saiyan.
“So, Goku.”
“Yeah?”
“Who was that lady?”
“Tamatia?”
“So, I take it that ‘Tam’ is just a nickname?”
“Yeah. She’s Vegeta’s betrothed.”
“Seriously?” she frowned at his answer. She couldn’t stand unfaithful men whether they were from her species or not.
Goku let out a chuckle at her reaction, “Well, they were supposed to be, but, I don’t know what happened. I guess Vegeta’s father changed his mind.”
“Are they… together?”
“No. Her family is one of the more powerful Saiyans here and they want them together so they can be closer to the throne and so that Tam can give birth to Vegeta-sei’s heir.”
“But…Vegeta doesn’t want that?”
“He never really seemed interested in Tam… that I know of. But she’s always been after him.”
‘Hmm, fascinating.’ she thought to herself. It was typical of royal families to continue betrothing their children. Although, in Vegeta-sei it seemed betrothing was based on strength, not nobility or wealth. Strength and power seemed to be the one thing most valued.
“So, here’s your room.” he stopped at a metallic door, punching buttons into the lock, Bulma following the pattern.
The door slid open, allowing them entry.
Stepping into the room, she noticed it was bigger than what she was accustomed to in Planet Frost. It was a plain, but nonetheless spacious, complete with a neat bed, closet, night-stands, and dresser.
Goku walked over to the bed and placed her bag on it.
Taking her cloak off, she placed it on the bed as well.
“So, is this it?” she asked, her eyes still roaming about the room.
“Yup. My room is a few doors over, so if you need anything, B, just let me know.”
“You really are my guardian angel. You know that?” she kindly smiled at him.
“I’m only trying to help out. Besides, you helped me look good with those coordinates.” he sheepishly answered.
“Hmm, true. Well, since you’re helping… do you know what time the big, bald-headed ignoramus will be by?”
He laughed at her implication, “Nappa’s not too bad. But, he’ll probably be by sometime after dark.”
“Thanks, Goku. Now, get out of here and try to get some rest…or food.” she jokingly shooed him.
His eyes widened with the mention of ‘food’, seemingly unaware that he was hungry, “You don’t have to tell me twice.” He turned to head out the door.
“Bye, Goku. Thanks again for everything.”
“Sure thing, B.” he waved as the door slid shut behind him.
She was left alone. Standing momentarily, she took in the silence and solitude; closing her eyes, taking a deep breath in, and gradually letting it out.
‘Finally.’ she thought. ‘Some time to myself.’
The bed stood behind her, knowing this, she intentionally fell back, landing on the mattress. Her arms sprawled beside her, taking full advantage and the space. Her eyes drifted shut with the intention of just letting them rest, involuntarily starting to join dream-land.
~*SSSSHHHHHHHH!!!*~
Cerulean eyes shot open at the static sound, alarm tingling her every nerve. Sitting up, her ears perked up, trying to identify the noise.
~*"B? Are you there?"*~
Bulma recognized the sound and most importantly, she recognized the voice. Quickly looking through her bag, she searched for the radio device she had assembled.
Finding the gadget, she grabbed it and placed it next to her lips, thankful that it worked and even more so remembering to leave a radio behind for her best-friend back in Planet Frost.
“Chichi?” she spoke into it.
There was a brief silence…
“Chichi?” concern started to bubble, worry evident in her query.
~*“Bulma! Oh, Kami! How have you been?!”*~ came Chichi’s excited reply.
She sighed; unaware that she had been holding in her breath. The corners of her mouth turned up, smiling at her friend’s warm and vivacious personality.
“I’ve been fine. Where are you?”
~*“Hiding in the assigned closet they call my room.”*~
“Are you safe?”
~*“As safe as I can expect to be. But I don’t have much time, so spill and tell me all about the Saiyans. How are they treating you? What’s the King like? Has he fallen for you yet? When will I see you again?”*~
Bulma had told Chichi about the bargain with Frieza, and had promised that if she was going to be set free, she was taking her feisty, dark-haired friend with her—with or without the lizard’s permission.
“Geesh, Chich, one question at a time. They’re treating me fine. Although, ‘his highness’ did assign me a chaperone; I don’t think he trusts me. But, the guy sent to follow me around is strangely super sweet, funny, a bit naïve, and seems to be the only being here that actually does trust me. He even helped me sneak into the lab. Let’s see…the King is still being difficult. I doubt that he will ever be able to have feelings for anyone. I feel like its hopeless, but I’m not giving up, ok? We’re going to get out of this mess one way or another. Right?” she rambled.
There was more silence from the other end, however, Bulma patiently waited for an answer back.
~*“B… did you listen to what you just said?”*~
Eyebrows come down in a frown, “What do you mean?”
~*“One way or another? Meaning there’s another way out of this hell-hole.”*~
Bulma blinked, unsure of what her friend was trying to tell her.
~*"Look, I’ve been thinking a lot about this. In all the years that we’ve been in Planet Frost, have you ever seen Frieza actually come through with a deal? Has he ever let any slave go?”*~
“No…”
~*“Exactly! So, how sure are you that he’ll cut the ‘ball-and-chain’ and let you, or even me, go free? Even with the service you’re providing?”*~
Her mind was overtaken by the question, trying to think of a time when the Frost leader showed any mercy, replaying the logic voiced out by her friend.
~*“B, I don’t mean to worry you but… Frieza has been coming down harder on the slaves, especially humans. Like, just yesterday, two bed-maids were taken down to that prison underground and were almost beat to death, for no good reason.”*~
“What!? How are they?”
~*“I don’t know.”*~
“And you? How are you doing? Have they done anything to you?”
~*“No, not yet.”*~
“Yet!?”
~*“Don’t get angry. Listen to me, ok? From what you’re telling me, it sounds like these Saiyans aren’t so bad. Can I say they’re even being… humane?”*~
She sighed, “That can be up for discussion. I don’t mean to burst your bubble, but there’s only one Saiyan that’s actually nice here, Chichi.”
~*“Well, did you ever hear the saying ‘My enemy’s enemy is my friend’?”*~
“Yes.”
~*“Well, did you ever think about the possibility of joining the Saiyans to bring down the big, purple baddie? It’s not too crazy of an idea, you know.”*~
“I guess not.” Bulma considerately answered. “But it’s drastic, it might backfire.”
~*“But, does it sound more promising?”*~
“Anything sounds more promising than what comes out of the giant lizard’s mouth.”
~*“So…”*~
“So… when did you start getting so smart?”
She could hear Chichi’s laugh coming from the radio. Bulma missed her friend.
~*“Living as a slave kinda forces you to grow-up and smarten-up.”*~
“Don’t I know it.”
There was more silence again, except for the static buzzing from the line. She was already getting annoyed by those quiet breaks amid their conversation.
The time gap was longer this time, making her wonder if the connection was temporary or if it was cut off. Her mind quickly went into diagnosing the problem, weighing out all the problematic scenarios that are plausible and scheming of ways to fix it, not satisfied with the discontinuance of their chat.
However, those thoughts paused as Chichi finally spoke…
~*“Bulma…”*~ she said, her voice sounding shaky from the receiver.
“Yeah?” her eyebrows knotted up, the sudden nervousness in Chichi’s tone not getting passed her.
She heard the start of sniffling and of raspy breathing. Closing her eyes and clenching her jaw, she felt the aching and suffering from her long-time companion. How she wanted to wrap her arms around her and let her cry till she no longer could to vent out all her frustrations.
~*“I’m so scared.”*~ she whispered through muffled and croaky whimpers.
“Chichi…” she started, willing all the strength she had to sound as convincingly strong as possible, although her heart stung at her friend’s pain, “…I’m going to get us out of here. I swear. I’ll come back for you. Stay tough for a little while longer, Chich.”
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She sat starring at herself through the reflection of the mirror before her; her face made-up, blue and green eye-shadow, rose blush, and nude lips. Blue hair left loose about her shoulders in soft waves. She knew she looked acceptable, good even, but that didn’t matter—nothing was going to bring her out of her foul mood.
Sitting on the little cushioned chair that matched the vanity table inside a spacious changing room, she went over her impromptu plan in her head, hoping that it will work. The last thing she wanted that night was to dance, especially for a group of rowdy men.
From what she understood, her performance was solely meant for the adults. There will be no children allowed, so there won’t be any flashy acrobatics needed from her part. Needless to say, she was grateful for that. However, she wasn’t informed whether or not there will be females in the audience. She crossed her fingers, hoping that there were. Women were vital in her plan.
Bulma could hear all of the celebrating Saiyans outside; laughing and loud music abundantly audible. It was a good sign.
Breathing in, she had to mentally psych herself up. Her brisk conversation with Chichi had left her worried about her friend’s well being, frustrated over her impotent state, and had her seeing red and shaking with rage at the revolting Frost leader. Just thinking about it made her blood boil again but, she needed to stay calm and collected, at least for a moment.
Unsteadily letting the air out, she waited for the change of music. Taking a few more deep breaths, she managed to placate her temper.
The up-beat tempo died down—her cue.
She stood, jumping to test the gravity and giving herself a once over.
Tonight, she wanted to remain as inconspicuous as possible. However, looking though her wardrobe, she couldn’t find anything lackluster. She had to make do with what she had, so she opted for a black ensemble, although it shimmered dark-purple with hints of green under the light—like how spilled oil swirled in a puddle of water.
Her bikini top had dragon-like scales and her bottom consisting of dark short-shorts, with layers of sheer black, plum, and violet cloth hanging from her shorts, top, and bracelets along her wrists and arms. In addition, she wore matching three-inch heel boots that, she was aware, wasn’t a good idea for the type of belly-dancing, but if things went the way she wanted then her foot-ware won’t be much of a problem.
Taking the black cloak Goku had placed on her earlier, she swung it around her and pulled the hood over her head. Walking through the long curtains of the exit, she took her veil and placed it over her nose, tying it securely from the back through her hair, never forgetting to use the translucent cover.
The palace was decorated in rich reds, purples, and golds. Even outside, matching the now darkened sky, reminding her of Arabian nights.
The beginning of the song started, just as she made it to the front of the mass of Saiyans. She didn’t move as she looked around taking her surroundings; the tables, Saiyan civilians, the food, the drinks, noticing the dim lighting, and most importantly of all, she sized the audience, picking out many, many females in the crowd.
She inwardly smiled.
Most were sitting. The Elders and the Saiyans that she remembered from the ship were sitting up front; the bearded one, the grey-haired one, the bald one, the one with the long hair, Goku, the King, and Tam sitting by his side.
Blue brow involuntarily rose at the sight of the attractive female Saiyan.
The audience was waiting, the stillness from her tugging their curiosities. So, she set about to her job, carefully listening to the rhythm.
It was a slow, sensual dark-rock. Seductive in a way that’ll eventually bring you down, like a potent drug there was the promise of pleasurable abandon in its every note.
Her hips slowly moved, her hands going up to the tie upfront, untying her cloak and letting it waterfall down on the floor.
She moved her body leisurely, turning her hips from side to side, steadily spinning once making sure her movements were emphasized by the hanging material on her outfit.
Now it was time to set her plan in motion.
Sashaying her way to the crowd, she was first going to give her attention to some of the men up front, to keep them on their toes. Her hand touched a shoulder, the long haired one that looked like Goku. Her fingers delicately and deliberately ran along his chest as she circled him, making eye contact with him as she did so without losing the tempo of the music.
Goku was next, although she couldn’t find it in herself to try to be sexy to him. Instead, she stood behind him and leaned down to hug her new friend. She placed a sweet kiss on his cheek through her shawl, making him blush in return as he tenderly patted her arm around him. Her mouth went over to his ear, whispering something to him. He nodded and smiled in response.
The exchange didn’t go unnoticed by the dark King as his eyes, like everyone else, followed the blue-haired foreigner.
Bulma wove her way through the men, continuing to charm them with a simple touch and a sway of her hips in various ways, some tails unwinding through her course.
Vegeta’s turn came up. She stood in front of him, giving him a quick once over. She noticed how more lavishly dressed he was. He still wore his trademark navy-blue attire and white armor, but it was plated with heavy gold along his shoulders and hips, as well as over his white boots and gloves, seeming to work as knee-pads and arm-guards. A red cape hung long from his armor, making him look rightly like royalty as he astutely sat on his throne.
However, as quickly as she surveyed him, she walked passed him, purposely ignoring him as she made her way to another man.
Narrowing his eyes at her, he involuntarily growled under his breath.
Swaying her body she made her way to a couple a ladies; both with midnight black hair. Walking around them, she purposely laced a finger through one of their locks, twirling it in her grasp as they stared up at her. Conjuring up enough courage, she liberally sat on one of their laps, surprising her as she did so. Bulma could smell the thick scent of liquor and hoped that the substance will aid her in the small quest.
She placed her palm against the tan woman’s chest, feeling her heart-beat pump avidly as she looked at her through blinking eyes, a light glaze of intoxication evident in them.
There wasn’t much needed to be done. It was surprisingly effortless; with a simple eye-lock with both females, Bulma stood, taking a hold of their hands as she led them to the empty center of the room.
Her hands freely roamed her volunteers; holding their hips and guiding them to follow and sway to the rhythm, wandering over taunt abs and up between their breasts, lightly combing through their black tresses in an intimate matter as she pressed their bodies together.
Although at first it seemed that they were wary about her actions, they inevitably imitated Bulma’s movements, dancing on their own accord as their tails relaxed and unwound from their hips.
Seeing this, she left them, making her way into the crowd again. Boots clacking in her wake, she picked out two more ladies. Much like the first midnight-haired women, she showed and maneuvered the next two ladies’ forms till they intuitively did the same.
Blue dancer continued this scheme, picking out the females two at a time, sporadically compelling a few to another shot of the whisky-like alcohol and guiding them to the dance floor. Her eyes occasionally travel to the males, observing how engrossed they were with the visual she was providing; a group of glistening with sweat, tan, Amazon-like women twisting and turning to the tempo of the slow, dark-rock. Moving bodies pressed together, fingers touching, tails swinging to and fro, lost in the music.
Thank Kami for alcohol and its influence to subdue any inhibitions.
Now for the men.
Similar to the way she won over the women, she chose two men. They, however, didn’t need much persuasion. Holding out her hands, they easily complied with her invitation as they let the iridescently dressed dancer lead them to the middle of the throng of women.
She carried on, taking the men out to dance two by two, a light glaze of sweat now noticeably evident over her entire form.
Dark eyes intensely trailed her, watching her with immense interest and curiosity.
The once viewing audience had turned into performing horde of the freely dancing. Men and women alike rocked to the beat, merging with one another.
Her line of sight wandered over to the appealing brunette by Vegeta’s side, the urge to examine her closer unexpectedly stirring up, her curiosity getting the best of her.
So she strutted over, her eyes focused on Tam.
Standing before her, Bulma held out her hand, wanting to take the King’s supposed betrothed out to dance.
However, Tam hesitantly stared from the held out palm up to Bulma, remaining seated and uncooperative. Those dark-brown orbs looked over at Vegeta, briefly lingering before traveling to meet the veiled performer.
Bulma did very much the same, following her vision, glancing from the calm, watchful King back to the immovable woman. She quickly understood the issue in hand remembering what Goku told her earlier that day. Naturally, she knew Tam would be reluctant to leave Vegeta’s side—after all she has an interest in him. With that in mind, she knew exactly what to do.
She sauntered over to Vegeta throwing the brown-haired female a puckish yet challenging look, conscious of the fact that there was now no probability of ever befriending Tam.
Reaching him, she bowed down low, left arm behind and right arm in front, hands fisted like she had seen done before, showing him the sign for respect. She knew full well she needed to stroke his ego a bit before continuing her ploy.
He raised an eyebrow at the obeisance.
She subsequently stood, making her way to straddle him, leisurely placing her legs on either side of him, very much like all those private times in his bedroom.
Cerulean irises kept eye-contact with chocolate brown as she grounded her form onto his, slowly rotating her hips as her hands rested on the base of his shoulders. She was rewarded with a green-eyed glare from her, making her grin in triumph.
With the intention of parting from him to stand up, she gasped as she was abruptly stopped. His hands grasped her thighs, pulling her back toward him. She looked down to meet his disapproving glare.
The purpose of Bulma’s actions didn’t go unseen by him.
Their eyes stayed locked on one another as a short staring contest was issued between them; he was seemingly uncaring of the company to his side and she was fully aware of the intense glare emitted at their direction. Quickly glancing to her side, she put a stop to their little game as she signaling over to the Tam, reminding him of her presence.
Silently sighing, he released his hold on her, letting her readjust as she moved to sit on one lap, facing the other woman. She, once again, held out her hand to the brunette, now inviting her to come to both she and the King.
Finally complying, she stood, making her way over to them.
Bulma took the chance and stood up as well, willing Vegeta to do the same with a gentle arm tug just as Tam reached them. Holding her hand and his wrist, she led the way, guiding them to the middle of the floor as they trailed behind.
Once inside the dancing crowd, Bulma’s last task was cut short as the physically stronger female just about nudged her out of the way in her attempt to hog Vegeta all to herself.
Knowing about Saiyan’s competitive nature, she wasn’t surprised.
Putting some distance between her and the now dancing couple, she stayed and danced only for a little while longer.
Checking the active and moving mob, she made sure no one’s attention was on her, although she couldn’t help her attention being brought over to them, taking a quick glance at the Saiyan leader and his dancing partner before making her move, fluidly trekked toward the exit.
Her goal was reached. Feeling grateful, relived, and as close to free as was currently possible, she didn’t stop her walk. Moments like these were few, far off, and rarely as simple to execute as it had been. Now all she wanted to do was try and see if she could once more communicate with Chichi.
Her pace quickened with her friend in mind, almost breaking out in a run. Entering the changing room the bald-headed Saiyan had brought her to earlier, she quickly looked around for her bag. Locating it by the vanity table, she made her way over to retrieve it. She bent down, her hand about to enclose around the strap, but stopped as she caught her own reflection.
Frowning, she looked at the replicate image of herself. Scantily clad and glistening with perspiration. What would her parents think if they saw what their little scientist has become?
Shaking that thought away, she placed her hands on the table, leaning on it for support. Closing her eyes, she took a moment to collect herself, making sure she kept her simmering emotions in check. Her light veil stirred against her deep breathing, going up with every exhale and down with every inhale.
Her mind unintentionally trailed over to him. She saw enough to know the King will be entertained for the rest of the night. His hand resting on Tam’s waist, her arms around his shoulders, standing close together under that soft lighting…
What did she care anyways?
Although, how wise was it to leave the man you’re compelled to seduce in the hands of another woman?
Taking another lone period for herself, she concentrated on her palpating heart. The thumping steady and strong, even with slight twinge of a foreign feeling she felt, but couldn’t quite name.
She felt her hair stand on end, fully alert…
“Where do you think you’re going?” he voiced raucously.
She didn’t have to look behind to the source of the voice to know who it was and didn’t bother to turn. Her eyes looked up at the mirror, seeing him standing behind her through the reflection. He leaned by the wall, his arms crossed before him.
Her borrow furrowed all the more. Hadn’t she left him with Tam?
“Bed.” she simply stated, feeling strangely upset with him.
He narrowed his eyes at her, “Is that so?”
Bulma didn’t bother answering back, glaring at the young King.
Vegeta noticed this, seeing fire in those ice-blue orbs.
Lightly pushing himself off the wall, he made his way toward her, his stride meticulous, his footsteps almost soundless. He stopped only centimeters away from her, standing menacingly behind her.
She could feel his hot breath on her shoulder—his dark eyes keenly looking at her through their reflection as she looked right back.
“Do you think I can’t see right through you?” lips spoke by her ear. “Do you think I wouldn’t notice all those little stunts you pulled? Or that I wouldn’t be on to you, woman?”
“Whatever I say… you wouldn’t believe anyways.”
“Regardless, I still want an explanation.”
She stubbornly didn’t answer.
He growled, “What are you playing at?”
“I’m not playing at anything.”
“Don’t lie, woman.” he lowly said, venom pouring out of every letter.
“I’m not lying.”
“Really?” his scowl deepened, “Why are you so eagerly helping us?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
Another threatening growl was emitted by the dark Saiyan, obviously disliking her lack of a useful response.
She paused, feeling the rumbling from him, carefully studying the scowling man’s features next to hers; sharp nose, deep brows, caramel complexion, lips… full, warm lips. Licking her own under the shawl, she for once cautiously chose her words wisely, debating whether she should in fact tell him about her assigned mission or continue with her deception. Frieza wasn’t giving her much hope for her future, so the question was mute, wasn’t it?
Blue-head turned around to face him, her eyes locking on to his, engulfed with warm determination and cold dread, “I don’t want to go back.” she softly answered, revealing her fear.
He would be lying to himself if he said he wasn’t taken back by her genuine reply, all the more feeling her ki not flicker with any sign of dishonesty, but he would never let her know that. Instead, he wanted to use her miniscule show of vulnerability for his own purpose.
“Oh?” he gently took a hold of her shawl, pulling it down, getting the thin, translucent cover out of the way. “What exactly are you saying?” he brought his hand to her clavicle. He ran one finger back and forth along her collar bone, her skin still moist.
She could feel shivers run up her spine and not just from his touch, but from the menace swirled in the dark vortex of his eyes.
“You don’t want to be that lizard’s pet anymore?” he patronized, one knuckle diligently making its way down, breaking his eye contact to look at his toying digit stroking her chest, up and down creamy mounds.
She didn’t pull away and she tried not to react as well, but she couldn’t help the involuntary effects on her body.
Noticing this, he continued his path, traveling downward to her abdomen, seeing the muscles tighten as he outlined her belly-button.
“What are you offering in exchange to stay?”
Her eyes narrowed at his implications.
He laughed amused, “You’re not wanting, but you are willing.” he noted. “And you’re not even so much willing as you are, for the lack of a better word… coerced, obligated.” Same hand traveled up to pull on azure locks.
His breath hovered over hers. She could smell the lingering alcohol, making her wrinkle her nose in displeasure.
“How much have you had to drink?”
“Not nearly enough.” he bit out.
He stood observing her, eyes traveling over her features. Gloved hand went over her neck; his thumb caressing her jaw, her cheek, going over rose petal lips. He could feel his mouth water in anticipation.
His lips came over hers in one single, soft kiss. They journeyed down her chin and across her jaw, softly nibbling on an ear-lobe.
She shuddered closing her eyes, her hands coming up to rest on his taunt arms.
His hot breath feathered her ear, tantalizing teeth grazing the delicate area down her neck, then right back up.
Another shudder. This man, although insufferable, always had a way to spark up the fire. The sensations feeling like electricity across her skin, the carnal need he demonstrated making her feel hot and feverish, her cheeks flushing with color.
But… she couldn’t. Not now. Not when her friend was in possible peril. A stabbing guilt washed over her, followed by shame for the pleasurable feelings evoked.
He slightly parted from her, their lips only a fraction on an inch away.
His breath floated over hers, “I can break you.” he sinisterly murmured.
Like an icy bucket of cold reality, her eyes shot open with his statement, pulling back from his hold.
“What did you say?”
He grinned, both his arms circling her form, embracing her tighter, keeping her still as she squirmed for release. “I can see it in your eyes.” he continued, “You have that fighting spirit in you. You haven’t been broken yet.”
“And what? You want to be the one that does it?”
He smirked, bringing his mouth over her in one persisting kiss, answering her question. When she didn’t comply, he bit her bottom lip in punishment. She couldn’t help the whimper that escaped, giving him the chance to enter her mouth, taking full advantage of the opportunity.
His lips were demanding on hers, sucking on her irresistible pouty bottom, his tongue intertwining with hers.
Breaking away, he was met with swollen, dewy lips as well as her still heated, loathing orbs on him.
“Say what’s on your mind, woman.” he commanded.
Digging nails on his arm dug all the more, “I Hate You.” she firmly replied.
He chuckled, “Good. You should hate me.”
Shaking with rage, she didn’t know where she found it in herself. Placing her hands on his hard armor, she found the strength to finally shove him off.
“You arrogant, insufferable, heart-less, asshole!”
He laughed. The snickering sounding ominous, amused, cold. She instantly realized he let her push him away.
Blue-head was now seething and sneering in rage. Fisted hands shook beside her, her vision hazy with the onslaught of fury, her blood bubbling in reaction to him. She wanted to give him a dose of his own medicine.
Seeing the twisted man before her, she was indeed fuming, but oddly she wasn’t disgusted by him, but rather…
Marching up to him, she pushed him against a wall, slamming her lips on his, surprising the Saiyan King. Her body tightly pressed up against his, one hand laced in his dark hair, the other finding and stroking his hard member, her kiss just as demanding as his was on her.
His tail unwound from his waist, snaking its way around her thigh, his hands easily placed on her hips.
Parting from the kiss, she pulled his hair roughly, giving her better access trace his jaw-line with her tongue, leaving a hot, wet trail in her course. She licked and sucked on his lobe, earning her a low moan from the dark King.
Her mouth grazed his ear, her hand threateningly tightening her hold on his groin, causing him to slightly wince at the promised pain. “You’ll never break me, Your Highness.”
He growled. The noise swallowed in her mouth as she once again slammed her lips over his.
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A/N: Well, there you have it. If I’ve been too descriptive or lengthy, I apologize. I did take it down many notches in describing Bulma’s outfit. And I’m not sure how ‘realistic’ the last scenes were, but that idea has been floating around in my head. I read and re-read this a million times, so I hope I wrote it as good as how I imagined. ^_^