Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Heart of the Beast ❯ Defile // Penetration ( Chapter 2 )

Standard Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

Author's Note: I apologize in advance for this chapter …

Warning: This chapter contains a graphic depiction of rape. If you don't want to read about that kind of thing, then please skip this chapter or stop reading. FOR MATURE READERS ONLY!!!

Heart of the Beast

Act 1 Chapter 2: Defile // Penetration

A vicious smirk crept up Frieza's face as he allowed his gaze to fall upon the woman lying naked at the center of his large bed.

She was the first woman in a long time to raise her eyes to meet his directly. Most of the whores he took to his bed would quiver in fear and avert their gaze to hide tears of fright. But not so the beauty before him; her blue eyes held a defiance that excited him to the point that he could barely restrain himself.

He couldn't wait to make her scream in pain.

But he had learned from long experience that anticipation was the better part of pleasure. He would take his time torturing her before he took her, so that by the time he plunged inside her she would be unable to react to the pain in any way other than screams of sheer terror. Her screams would please him further as he molested her, heightening his sensation of satisfaction as he reached his climax.

And then he would kill her.

Normally he would prefer to keep her around for awhile, long enough to break her bold spirit. He would make her kneel at his feet and beg for him to take her, make her whisper `Master' as she pleasured him eagerly with her mouth and hands. But he had no doubt that he would break this girl after a single night. Perhaps if her defiance were slightly quieter, her determination more discreet, he would find the challenge more intriguing, because he knew that those who appeared outwardly strongest were the easiest to break, while those who kept their true power hidden were the most underestimated.

That had been the key to his success as a dictator; whenever an enemy underestimated him due to his small stature or perceived weakness, he was assured of a swift, decisive victory.

This little girl was exactly like that. She thought she could defeat him, that she could make him bow and scrape before her. The blatant defiance in her eyes told him that she thought she could fight against him and win.

His smirk widened into a malicious grin as he began to advance towards the giant bed in the center of the room.

He would take great pleasure in proving her wrong.

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She swallowed hard as she watched the powerful creature moving towards her. It was all she could do to keep herself from throwing up all over her own naked body.

Frieza was, she guessed, about an inch or two shorter than her. Since most of the men she had seen here towered over her, he must be incredibly powerful to be able to control all those who appeared so much bigger and stronger than himself. Her heart sped up to a wild staccato rhythm and her mouth suddenly grew dry with fear as the reality of her situation crashed down on her like a blow to the head.

This was really happening. Before he had appeared, she had managed to delude herself into thinking that she had a chance to escape if she worked hard enough and quickly enough. But now that Frieza had appeared before her, coming towards her, she realized that there was nothing she could do. The hopelessness of her situation both scared and angered her. She refused to give in to him and his desires, but she didn't want to die. She was the last member of the human race-she owed it to her people to survive past this hardship, to continue on and pass her human blood on to her children.

She couldn't die now. No matter if he beat her and then raped her bruised, battered body, she would fight him. She would win against him. And no matter what cruel, horrible things he did to her, she would never forgive him. She would survive, and one day she would gain the ability to return and kill him, seeking revenge not only for the wrongs he dealt to her, but for the death of her people.

No matter what it took, she would escape him. And then she would return, triumphant, to kill him with her own hands.

She took a deep breath as he reached the bed, in preparation for the mental and physical battle ahead.

He stood at the side of the bed staring down at her, his eyes roving hungrily over her naked form. His pale white skin-if such a smooth, shiny substance could indeed be called skin-seemed to glisten, and the purple patches on his head, shoulders, and chest veritably glowed with arousal. The white tail moving frantically from side to side behind him also signified his excitement. Moving her glance downward, she noticed that he had no genitalia to speak of, only a smooth whiteness in between his legs. Her eyes darted back to his long, thick tail as panic rose within her. He couldn't possibly use that … could he?

He continued to examine her body for several long seconds before reaching down with one smooth white hand and gently stroking her cheek. She didn't allow herself to be taken in by the apparent kindness in the gesture; she knew he wanted to catch her off guard. When he saw that her body remained just as tense and uninviting as before he pulled his hand back, a look of annoyance on his face.

"Do you know who I am, whore?" Frieza rasped. His voice sounded very much like what she imagined a poisonous snake would sound like, could it talk-and had they not all been destroyed along with the rest of her home planet by Frieza's men. When she didn't respond, he glared down at her, angered by her apparent calmness. "You know that I am the leader here," he continued, his voice filled with the promise of future violence, "And I can kill you quickly, or draw out your death with such extreme torture that you will regret your insolence towards me. When I ask a question I expect an answer, whore." His eyes narrowed. "If you don't answer me I will kill you, slowly and painfully. Now I will ask you again: Do you know my name, whore?"

"Bulma," she said.

He obviously hadn't expected such an absurd answer as a look of astonishment passed over his features. The surprised look left his face so quickly, however, that she almost thought she had imagined it. He replaced it with a look of anger.

"What was that?" His voice was hushed, a lethal sound hiding beneath it venom as silent as a well-trained assassin's footsteps.

"My name is Bulma," she replied, barely managing to keep her cool under his firm gaze, "not `whore.' I would prefer if you called me by my given name." In reality she would prefer that he be dead and therefore unable to call her anything at all, but in this situation the best she could hope for from him would be for him to acknowledge that she had a name.

Much to her surprise, after staring at her in disbelief for a moment the tyrant threw back his head and began to laugh. He flung his arms across his smoothly muscled stomach as the mirth flowed through him in an attempt to contain it. After several minutes the laughter finally began to dwindle. Frieza wiped a fake tear of laughter from the corner of his eye with a chuckle. "You are quite the comedian," he said pleasantly. Then his face changed, contorting into an evil smile. "Whore," he added viciously, his eyes gleaming with malice.

Bulma gave back as good as she got, both in her withering stare and in her words. "I'm not joking. I'm not a whore; my name is Bulma, and you will address me as such." Back home, her mother would surely have scolded her for saying those words in such a rude manner; but in this case, talking to this monster, she felt perfectly justified for the caustic tone in her voice.

Even if he killed her, he would never break her. She would die before she succumbed to his will.

There was a pang in her heart at the emergence of such a thought. Just a short time before she had been prepared to do whatever she needed to survive; she had felt that through survival she would be able to avenge her people, and make Frieza pay for what he had done. Even if it meant that she had to bow and scrape before him, to pretend to be broken, she had thought that it would be worth it if it meant she could survive to one day destroy him. But now the situation had changed. The most important thing to her now was no longer survival, or even revenge-it was victory. Even if she died defying him, her defiance in and of itself would make her victorious over him in a way that her cold-hearted vengeance never could. She would be the one captive who didn't bow and scrape before the great Lord Frieza; she would be the woman who had cursed him with her dying breath.

When she joined her human brothers and sisters in the afterlife, they would all celebrate her victory together. Then they would watch and cheer from the heavens as someone else, from another decimated race, did what she could not do and destroyed Frieza in honor of their memory.

Frieza's eyes narrowed. "You choose to defy me, knowing that I have killed men for less, whore?"

Bulma gritted her teeth, becoming angrier and angrier at the short being that stood before her. What right did he have to treat her like this after he ordered the deaths of all her family and friends, everyone she cared about? "Are you an idiot, or are you simply deaf? My name is Bulma. B-u-l-m-a. Bulma. Not whore, Bulma. Get it right already!"

She couldn't believe she had just said that to the man who held her captive-and obviously neither did he. Once again Frieza was visibly taken aback, staring at her as though she were crazy, which she probably was, saying things like that in her current situation. The logical part of her mind kicked the impassioned, indignant part, the left side of her brain screaming at the right side to just shut up already.

But it was already too late to take back her words; and from the fury that had overtaken Frieza's suddenly red visage, she doubted she would live long enough to have the opportunity to refute them.

Not that she would ever denounce them. She had only spoken the truth.

Without warning Frieza lunged forward until his body lay half atop hers. His putrid breath fell warm against her cheek, filling her nostrils with a repulsive odor that reminded her of burnt onions and rotting meat. He ground his smooth, white groin against her thigh, leading her to wonder once again exactly how he planned to rape her, since the purple-and-white beast had no genitalia to speak of, and his tail, though narrow at the very tip, grew so wide in such a short space that it couldn't possibly fit. But as his hand closed around her throat, cutting off her windpipe, she realized suddenly that he no longer planned to rape her; he planned to just kill her and get it over with.

She hadn't wanted it to end like this. She'd never wanted her life to end in such a manner, murdered by the man responsible for killing her people.

As she attempted to mentally prepare herself for death, scenes from her short, troubled life filled her mind.

The first thing she remembered was running. Lots and lots of it. She ran until her chest hurt, until the pain grew so bad that she couldn't breathe, until she collapsed on the ground, gasping for breath. She remembered looking behind her and seeing those three mushroom clouds rising into the red, smoke-filled sky. Somehow after seeing that awful sight she had found the energy to turn around and run even further, as fast as her scrawny little five-year-old legs would carry her.

Everyone died that day. She and her mother managed to find her father's body amidst the rubble of the old Capsule Corporation building nearly six months later, after the nuclear war destroyed most of the human world and left only suffering, disease, and death in its wake. All the world leaders, the very men who had ordered this horror upon their own citizens, were dead, struck down by the nuclear weapons of their enemies. Although they managed to find the corpses of her father and a few other people she had known, most of the bodies were never found. All her old childhood friends: Krillin, Chi Chi, even poor little Goku, who had never had a bad thought in his entire young life. She looked and looked, trying with all her might to lift up giant slabs of concrete with her tiny, scratched-up arms and pawing through dirt until her hands were raw, calling out their names for hours and hours on end as she searched for them, leaving her throat scratchy and sore. After all that, she was unable to find them, unable to give any of them the dignity of a proper burial.

She spent the next thirteen years living in a series of man-made tunnels and caves nestled deep in the heart of the Fuugen Mountain just north of West City. With what little technology she and the other survivors had managed to salvage from the rubble in the city, the child prodigy worked tirelessly to build the things they needed for survival. Through the communication devices she designed they were able to learn that no other concentrations of humans existed; they were the only members left of their once prominent species.

As such, the small band of humans worked hard to survive in their post-apocalyptic society. They had even begun building primitive shelters outside of their caves and improving the quality of life for the remaining survivors when Frieza's men suddenly came down to the planet and destroyed everything they had worked so hard to build.

She was the only one left, and soon she would be dead, too. Frieza's grip tightened around her throat, enough to cause her excruciating pain but not quite enough to kill. His words about giving her a long, painful death had been accurate; that was exactly what he planned to do.

But she couldn't die yet. She refused to die. Her people needed her to avenge them. If he killed her now no one would remember the humans; they would be just another light in the universe that Frieza had snuffed out with his power.

She wouldn't die. She wouldn't let Frieza kill her. She would survive.

For the sake of the entire human race, for all those who had lived and suffered by her side, she had to survive.

Even if it meant sacrificing the one thing that had given her the strength to live this long: Her pride.

If Frieza wanted to break her, she would let him. But one day she would return the favor. And with his blood on her hands she would finally be free of him.

"No," she whispered, barely able to manage the words around the tightness in her throat. She clenched her hands, still tied high above her head, and forced herself to continue. She had to do this; for the sake of her people, for the sake of vengeance, she had to swallow her pride and go on. "Please," she wheezed, "Lord Frieza."

Upon hearing her plea of obedience, Frieza hesitated for a moment before removing his hand from around her throat. Bulma gasped and sucked in as much air as she could, replenishing her lungs with precious oxygen. Frieza's tail hung still in the air behind him as he continued to lean over her naked body, a foreboding sight.

"You finally answered my question … good." His tail began to move, slithering towards her until the razor-sharp tip softly touched the corner of her lips. "But I'm afraid it's too late for you, whore," he rasped menacingly as his tail purposefully scratched the corner of her mouth, causing a trail of blood to trickle slowly down her chin, which his tongue then darted out to lick up. "I do not accept insolence from those beneath me. You will be punished for your words."

"But please, Lord Frieza," Bulma pleaded desperately. No, this couldn't be happening. She had finally decided to give in to his demands in exchange for her life, and he wouldn't even give her that much.

"You live only as long as I want you to," he sneered. "When I am done with you, I will kill you and throw your mangled corpse out with the rest of the trash, whore!"

His tail suddenly forced itself into her mouth, like a giant tongue forcing entry in the midst of a harsh, bruising kiss. She had no idea how he could fit the whole thing in there, but he managed somehow. She felt his tail going deeper and deeper, all the way to the back of her throat.

Once again she couldn't breathe, and began choking on the tail. An instant later it emerged from her mouth, coated in warm, wet saliva that dripped onto her naked breasts and belly. Her chest heaved as she sucked in more air. She glared at Frieza. If he didn't plan to play fair, she wouldn't either. She wouldn't let him win so easily.

"You monster!" she hissed.

Frieza laughed at her. "You're a virgin, aren't you?" He sounded so damn smug she wanted to scream. "This will be fun then."

Bulma tried struggling against her bonds again, but the velvet ropes that held her were still much too strong for her meager human strength. Frieza just laughed at her futile efforts as his tail hovered menacingly in the air above her stomach.

"Why don't you just give in?" he queried, a frighteningly fiendish look on his pale white face. "It will be painful for you, yes, but much less painful if you submit." His voice dropped to a low, seductive purr that sounded like the harsh grating of fingernails on a chalkboard against her ears. "If you submit to me I might even allow you to take some pleasure of your own before I killed you."

"I'd rather be gang-raped by a pack of wild dogs, my flesh torn apart by their teeth while I still live, than to submit to you!" she cried, all the fury and anguish and pain in her soul leaping into her voice. She hated this man with every fiber of her being, and although she wanted desperately to live, she would not allow him to take away her humanity.

Frieza smirked down at her, confident in his authority over her person. "That can be arranged," he hissed.

Bulma suddenly felt something moving against her inner thigh and quickly looked down, shocked by what she saw. The white skin covering the flat space in between Frieza's legs was moving, growing. The shiny white area seemed to bubble for a moment, as though morphing into something new, then begin molding itself outwards. The flatness of his groin expanded lengthwise from the center, morphing into the shape into a long, muscular, erect penis. She stared at it in horror. So that's where he'd been hiding his genitalia; it emerged from inside of him, growing out of the pale white skin that surrounded it.

As she stared at the pulsing white organ poised at her threshold she felt a probing in another area all together. While she had been watching the transformation of Frieza's groin, his tail had snuck beneath her, unawares, to poke and prod its saliva-lubricated tip against the entrance of her anus. Bulma gasped as the sudden realization struck her.

Frieza truly was the cruelest man in the universe.

In a perfectly synchronized movement, Frieza plunged into both her vaginal and anal passages, causing her to scream with pain at two such violating invasions happening at once. She screamed as her hymen tore and screamed as his thick tail painfully expanded the walls of her rectum.

He plunged his two appendages in and out, in and out, in simultaneous motions. It felt as though a knife were cutting deep into her skin, past all her internal organs, and twisting. With each double-stroke, the pain deepened. White heat flashed before her eyes, nearly causing her to pass out from the enormity of the pain; it was only by sheer will power that she managed to stay awake, as she clenched her bound hands, grabbing onto the very rope that held them to keep herself from falling into the darkness that reached for her. She tried to force herself not to scream, but the cries of pain refused to stop; each time he slammed himself into her body she had to cry out against the force of the pain that ripped through her insides.

As he raped and sodomized her, he also managed to violate her in other ways. He lifted his head to her breasts, which heaved with pain and adrenaline, and took the left one almost fully into his mouth. He bit down hard at the exact moment his tail and erection both shoved their way forcefully into her resisting body, creating three separate points of pain that all crashed down over her body, making her entire body arch and shudder with terror as they overrode her senses and her thoughts with their sheer magnitude.

Her voice was raw from screaming; tears streamed down her face. Bulma was ready to admit her defeat. Even in her wildest nightmares, she hadn't imagined that it would be this bad. She'd never thought it could be anything quite like this.

Her womb and her anus were both stretched well past their limits, blood spurting freely from both orifices whenever Frieza removed himself only to plunge back inside a moment later. Her left breast ached and bled where he bit it, the other red and raw from tiny bites he had placed upon it with his sharp front teeth. One hand squeezed and retracted from her sore throat in rhythm with his thrusts, the other squeezing and bruising each part of her body in turn: legs, arms, torso, even her aching breasts. As she sobbed from the pain, she thought that it couldn't possibly get any worse than this.

She was wrong.

Frieza finally pulled himself out of her and stayed there for a moment, kneeling in between her legs. She took in a shaky breath, wondering if it was all over.

It wasn't. Frieza lifted one of her legs, tied with a taut rope to the corresponding bed post, and used it to flip her over onto her stomach. A scream caught in her throat as her face slammed into the large pillow beneath her head. Her eyes started to water again as he shoved her already tautly bound legs apart, straining the muscles in them as he forced them to pull against the tightly stretched, straining velvet ropes. He shoved himself in between her thighs, stretching them even further apart. Almost delirious from the pain, Bulma didn't know how long she could last in such a position-with her legs straining so far from their own natural posture-before her limbs snapped under the pressure.

Frieza ignored the straining crossed velvet ropes behind him and started his attack anew, this time sending his saliva-and-blood lubricated tail into her sore vagina while his long erection assailed her anal cleft.

She wanted to die. After surviving all those years, all that pain that had consumed the lives of the survivors left to make do with what they had on Earth, she had come to this. She had been so determined to avenge her people that she would stand up to the dictator that ruled more than half the known universe. She was a fool. Had she died on earth with the rest of her people, she would never have to know this pain and never have to be at the mercy of a man whose hands were stained with the blood of billions whom he had considered inferior.

She should have died then, with her people, instead of here at the very hands of the man that killed them.

Mentally she slapped herself. What was she thinking? She hadn't died.

There must be a reason why she had survived even though all her comrades were dead. There must be a reason why she was here, now, being tortured like this. There must be a reason why she alone had been spared. There had to be a reason why her life, out of all the others, had been spared. Because, in spite of all she'd suffered since coming here, she hadn't died.

No matter what other thoughts came to her mind, a single refrain began to sing through her soul: She hadn't died.

She hadn't died for a reason. She couldn't die here. She wouldn't die here. Even if he raped her body, even if he sodomized her soul, he wouldn't kill her. He couldn't, because her life belonged in the hands of a fate that even Frieza, with all his power and all the troops at his command, could not defeat.

She was here for a reason.

There had to be a reason for all the pain and suffering she had endured. There had to be a reason why her people had died such senseless, tragic deaths.

There had to be a reason why her life had been spared.

She held on to these thoughts even more tightly than her hands grasped at the very ropes that bound her. Such thoughts gave her an unbeatable strength, the kind of strength she needed to bite her tongue until it bled in order to keep herself from screaming. The kind of strength she needed to ignore all the painful bites he placed across the naked flesh of her back. The kind of strength she needed to filter the pain of this act of violence from her senses, creating a gentle void of numbness that lovingly embraced her soul and distanced her mind from the pain of her body.

She wasn't weak. She was strong. She was a survivor; she always had been. She'd survived a nuclear war that had decimated her world; she'd survived thirteen years living in caves without a single hope for a bright future; she'd survived when aliens had come to her planet and killed everyone but her in their act of violence. What Frieza did to her now as he violated her body was nothing compared to everything she'd had to survive before.

She would survive this, too.

Noticing the lack of her screams, Frieza switched his pace, no longer moving his appendages simultaneously. He plunged his erection inside her while pulling his tail out, and vice versa, alternating the two penetrations and moving his lower body like a piston as he increased the pace.

Still, she didn't scream. She refused to allow herself to scream for him anymore.

Furious at the lack of reaction he got from her, Frieza pulled his tail from her and plunged his hardness into her bloody, reddened vaginal cleft once more. When she continued her silence he leaned forward and placed his lips beside her ear as his tail wound itself around her neck and squeezed.

"Scream!" he hissed. "Scream with pain! Beg for mercy! If you beg me to stop, I will spare your life!"

Bulma knew he was lying. Even though she couldn't breath, even if he strangled her here with a tail dirty from her blood and sweat and bodily excretions, she wouldn't scream. Nor would she beg for her life.

No matter what, she wouldn't die. She knew this for a fact; because she was here, her life had a meaning beyond anything she could fathom, and the fate that bound her more tightly than the ropes holding her would surely see her through. Through the haze of pain that gripped her body, her mind clung to that one thought that gave meaning to everything. She had to have faith in that, or else she would go mad.

With a great cry of anger Frieza pulled his tail from her throat with one final squeeze and poised it in the air behind him, sticking up menacingly like the tail of a poisonous scorpion. He gripped the sheets on either side of her head and furiously released himself inside her. Even though he had finally come, there was no pleasure in it for him; it was a purely mechanical gesture. That thought gave Bulma a modicum of satisfaction.

He lay atop her back, panting, before furiously pushing himself up and flipping her back over into the proper position. Her legs were still sore from stretching so far, but they weren't broken, Bulma realized with relief. And, thankfully, neither was her spirit.

She watched him warily, the man who had just raped her. The man who had violated her in the most horrible, humiliating way possible.

The man who had claimed that he would kill her as soon as he finished.

Frieza glared down at her, enraged. "How dare you," his raspy voice proclaimed, "How dare you defy me! I will kill you for this!"

Bulma flinched, prepared for his attack. But she never felt his vile touch on her delicate, bruised skin.

She distinctly heard a throat clearing coming from the direction of the doorway. Slowly, she opened her eyes and looked in that direction.

Two men stood in the doorway. One of them was the most handsome man she'd ever seen. He had pale green skin that showed his delicate, slightly effeminate features to perfection, long dark green hair falling across his shoulder in a tightly woven braid, and the leanest body she had ever seen, tall and slim. Although his gaze seemed to be settled on Frieza, it felt more like he was purposely avoiding looking at her-something for which Bulma couldn't fault him. Not only did she feel awful, she was sure that she looked like it, too.

The other man, the one who had cleared his throat at such an opportune time, leaned with his back against the closed door, arms crossed over his chest, a knowing smirk on his face as he glanced from Bulma's naked figure to Frieza's enraged form. Although his stance and demeanor appeared casual, Bulma sensed a tightly leashed violence resting just beneath the surface. Although she was sure he was a different species from her, his coloring and build definitely looked very similar to the humans. Perhaps that was the reason she thought he looked vaguely familiar. His long dark hair began with a deep widow's peak and rose, standing almost straight up, naturally styled into long, spiky curves. His features were hard, his muscles-or at least those muscles she could see beneath his thick armor-harder. He was short compared to the other men she'd seen here, and especially compared to the man standing beside him; she estimated that he would be only about an inch or two taller than her. She noted absently that that fuzzy brown thing wrapped around his waist looked suspiciously like a tail.

The shorter of the two men lifted away from the wall. "Sorry to disturb you, Lord Frieza." He had a deep, sensual voice, his tone now filled with amusement. "We weren't aware that you were busy."

Frieza narrowed his eyes as he looked at the two men. "I'm not," he replied shortly, stalking away from the bed and appearing to give no more thought to the insolent woman that lay upon it. "What is it?" He asked shortly when he drew closer to his men.

"We had a bit of an emergency, but everything is under control," the green-skinned man told his superior. "Apparently one of the men who just came back from purging the planet Chikyuusei started attacking some of the soldiers. In the end they had to kill him, but everyone is wondering what caused him to act like that."

"You interrupted me to tell me that, Zarbon?" Frieza asked, his tail swishing angrily behind him. "And why did you bring Vegeta with you?"

"I'm here because I have something to report as well," Vegeta said. "But if you're too busy to listen …" he allowed his gaze to wander over to Bulma. For some reason, his dark eyes didn't seem to violate her the way Frieza's had. They felt … comforting, somehow.

Although she longed for comfort more than anything right now, to receive it would undo her the way nothing else could. She had to remain strong on her own so that she could fight Frieza and win.

"I am not too busy." Frieza fairly bristled as he said the words. "Now what is it you have to report?"

Vegeta turned back to the one in charge. "Radditz and Nappa just got back from Galdethe. You sent them there a week ago to purge the planet, but they said they couldn't find any living beings on the entire rock. This is the third time that's happened this month."

Frieza frowned. "Could this be a coincidence where they all died before the purging team arrived?"

Zarbon responded this time, shaking his head. "That's impossible, Frieza. In each case, not only did they not find any living life forms, they didn't find any corpses or debris, either. It's as though the inhabitants of each planet disappeared without a trace just before our arrival."

"Dammit," Frieza cursed. "I don't have time for this!" He growled. "I need to let off some steam."

"I thought you just finished letting off your steam?" Vegeta asked pointedly, nodding towards the bed.

Frieza turned and looked at Bulma, who lay silently on the bed, still tied into position with velvet ropes, listening quietly to their conversation. Frieza then turned towards Vegeta, who had just made a very irreverent comment. Glancing back at Bulma, a slow smile began to form on his white face that made Bulma very nervous.

"Zarbon," he commanded. The green-skinned man obediently followed his superior over to the far side of the room where the two discussed something in hushed tones. When the two men broke apart, they both had very smug looks on their faces.

"I'm such a bad host," Frieza rasped, his voice laced with venomous amusement as he sauntered towards the bed, his tail wagging behind him like an eager puppy's. A shiver of dread caught hold of Bulma's spine. What was he up to? "I must have forgotten that not all of my guests are acquainted. Bulma," he said, using her name for the very first time, "allow me to introduce you to the man responsible for the purging of your home planet: Vegeta!"

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Next Chapter: Vegeta gets his turn to rape Bulma's poor, battered body.

++Vegeta's Bondage Queen++