Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Lab Monkey ❯ A Whore's Life ( Chapter 10 )

Disclaimer: I don't own DBZ.

A/N: There is some foul language in this chapter. *squeezes fingers together a pinch* But lets be honest. You would be raging pissed too.

Chapter Ten

A Whore's Life

The food trader caught Bulma effortlessly, two more arms snaking out from under his shirt to snare her. She looked down to her midriff and her stunned gaze absorbed the horrifying truth about the man's extra appendages. Instead of human arms like his other two, these tapered off to singular, sharp, black talons. The limbs were covered with the same short, black stubble as his cheeks, only longer and courser. His arms were thin, double jointed and spindly, looking exactly like large spider legs.

Bulma screamed hysterically, but they fell on deaf ears. A woman's cries were common among the crowd and no one even lifted their head from their work. The man chortled excitedly, murmuring high pitched words into her ear that she could not understand. He backed up carefully into his liar, pushing the green curtain aside impatiently.

Bulma's shocked blue eyes darted up to meet Vegeta's emotionless gaze. He watched as the man dragged her back behind the curtain, her cries rolling over him like glacial water. She held out her hand in one last gesture of pleading, his name falling from her lips like an evocation of protection. Purposefully, he turned his back on her, leaning nonchalantly against the counter to wait patiently for the vender's time to be up.

This should teach the woman to show him the respect he deserved as her superior. Not only was he above her in station, but his knowledge of the universe was much greater than hers. In the future, she would think twice about questioning his authority or demand that he obey her like a common servant. Besides, she deserved her punishment. The cloak of pretentious morality that she settled so comfortably on her unfit shoulders was about to be snatched ruthlessly away from her. It was easy to chide him about his lack of compassion and moral ambiguity when she sat on her untainted pedestal, but now it was time for her to roll around in the muck like the rest of them. Finally, she would get a taste of what it was like to survive in a universe, where only the cruelest prospered and the weak endured in pain and heartache.

He watched the ebb and flow of the foot traffic around him. Men and women approached merchants and traded for various goods and supplies. He had seen the same thing a thousand times before on hundreds of different planets. An obscene flash of bright color caught his eye and he turned his head to examine a ragged woman with gaudily dyed, fuchsia hair. Her clothing had once been a startling canary yellow, but time and neglect had aged it to a soft beige color spotted with dark, brown splotches. The bodice was cut indecently low and the hem stopped just below the parting of her thighs. Everything about her screamed street whore, including her face, that was creased with worn lines that told the story of her downtrodden existence. She had no bright spark of life. Her very essence was dull and listless. Her soul had been beaten from her numerous times, leaving her dead inside, unable to feel even the most basic of emotions. Her only remaining concerns were her next meal and surviving her latest trick.

Vegeta gazed on uninterestedly as she dug a few coins from her cleavage in exchange for a packet of medicine. As she reached out to deposit the money in the merchant's palm, her thin dress exposed enough of her arm for him to see the putrefied ravages of a flesh eating virus. The wound was enflamed, weeping with green puss and rotting gore. She was in dire need of medical attention immediately or she would most certainly die.

With a trembling hand she took the medicine, but it was just as quickly snatched from her grasp by a seedy man who stalked up next to her. He tossed the packet to the merchant, demanding the woman's money back. As the trader handed over the coins, the man's meaty fist closed over them possessively. He yelled angrily at the beleaguered woman, shaking her fiercely by her synthetic colored hair. People pulled away, creating an unbroken space that could not be trespassed upon. No one stopped what they were doing, merely adjusted their course so they would not be pulled into the fray, ignoring the scene as the man's yells became more enraged and the woman wept bitterly.

He rained blows down on the woman, belittling her for wasting his hard earned money on something as worthless as medicine when it could be used for him instead. She argued spiritlessly that it was her money and she was the one who had lain on her back to earn it so she should be allowed to spend it as she pleased. The man backhanded her viciously, cruelly reminding her that she would be dead within the year anyways, so there was no point in buying something that would only prolong the inevitable. Of course, the man wasn't nearly so eloquent in his words, but Vegeta understood his gist.

The woman sobbed beneath the blows, beginning for forgiveness and promising to do anything he asked as long as he stopped hurting her. Her wails were so loud that Vegeta almost didn't hear the loud crash behind him, but Bulma's cries were unmistakable.

"Please Vegeta! I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. Don't do this to me." Bulma's cry was accompanied by the rending of fabric and her shriek of terror. Vegeta's head twitched to the side, blocking out the screams from behind him as he watched the scene in the street.

Bulma dodged under the spider man's arms as he reached for her. She darted over to a crudely made table, snatching up a clay goblet and throwing with all her might at her attacker. She heaved missile after missile at him, but the man batted them away easily. The creature hissed angrily and spewed a string of words at her that she could only interpret as a rebuke for breaking his possessions. He lunged forward and she tried to run past him, but one of his extra arms snaked out, slashing her painfully in the side with his talon. Her fashionably cut jacket that she draped over her white blouse to complete her business suit ensemble was ripped away, falling to the ground in a flutter of shredded, expensive silk.

She couldn't believe that Vegeta would do this to her. That he would hand her over to another man like he would a bag of rice. Trade her body for food as though she was a possession and not a woman. She had never dreamed that he was capable of such cruelty. Although she knew that he was a murdering monster, a small part of her never believed that he could be so heartless. But she knew. She knew that he hadn't really wanted this.

She understood belatedly that he had intended to walk away from the food vender. He preferred to starve rather than hand her over to the bug man, but her tirade on the street had pushed buttons she hadn't even known existed and now he was teaching her a valuable lesson. She was nothing without him, his word was law and she should not defy him. She was sorry. She was so very sorry, because now there was no saving her. She was helpless and alone in an unforgiving universe that was going to eat her alive. No army. No Yamcha. No Vegeta. He turned his back on her, leaving her alone to endure the consequences of her vicious tongue.

Vegeta witnessed the beating that the woman on the street took, the only person besides her keeper who openly acknowledged her existence. Even the merchant continued his business unhindered, merely moving down to the end of his counter to trade with someone else. The woman staggered under the blows and Vegeta was silently impressed at the amount of abuse she could take and still remain standing. Like him, she had suffered long years of pain and torment, hardening her body and soul against the agony of living. How many times had he seen someone broken? Did he even know anyone whose spirit wasn't irreparably damaged? The point of Vegeta's chin lowered towards his chest and he darted a glance behind him from the corner of his eye. The blue-haired witch was still vivacious and eager to taste life, at least for now.

The whore cried out brokenly, finally collapsing under a vicious punch to the face. The man yelled at her to get up, but she just curled herself into a tight ball, mewling pathetically in the dirt. He reached down, grabbing a fistful of her threadbare dress, trying to yank her up off the ground but rending the thin fabric instead and exposing her filthy body to uncaring eyes.

"Vegeta. Help me Vegeta. Please make him stop." There was the sound of flesh hitting flesh and her words were cut off with a strangled gasp. Vegeta's arms tightened over his muscled chest and his impassive mask became harder, more shuttered. His black eyes burned hellishly as he determinedly ignored Bulma's cries for help.

He repeated the mantra in his head that she deserved what she got. She wanted to leave the ship, to see her first alien world. She wanted food so badly. Well then, let her work for it. The hard line of his lips thinned as he pushed down the possessive animal inside of him that snarled at the thought of another male touching what he marked as his. This was just another way to prove that he was always in control. He would not allow his baser instincts to rule his mind. She was being touched by another because he allowed it. He still owned her, whether she acknowledged it yet or not. This was just an extension of that ownership.

Bulma gasped as her lip split open from her attacker's fist and she tasted the metallic taint of blood in her mouth. In the fray, she had knocked away the vender's hat reveling another two rows of disgusting, bulging eyes that focused solely on her. She could see her multiplied reflection in their shiny depths, a blue-haired woman whose face was carved into a living, breathing embodiment of terror and horror. Her mouth was wrenched open in an endless scream that she could not quell if she wanted to.

Her regret turned to anger and a small voice that she kept locked away in the darkest part of her heart awoke. The same voice that told her the truth about her guilt. The voice that knew she would have let Vegeta live. Its viperous words of rage and betrayal whispered in her mind, overwhelming the normally logical voice that sounded in her head. How could Vegeta let this thing touch her? She may deserve some sort of punishment for her harsh words she admitted bitterly and most certainly Vegeta would feel that he was due retribution for his entrapment these last months, but never did she think he would sink this low. She had never considered that he would allow another creature, another male, to exact the revenge that he so sadistically thirsted for.

If Vegeta felt that she must be punished for her wrongs against him, then it should be him that did so. A black seed in her heart bloomed and it grew with every passing second. Her chest ached with the seething betrayal. She deserved better than to be abused by some half man, half spider creature who knew nothing of their struggle for control. Only Vegeta should be allowed to touch her. She would only tolerate his hands on her, his body against hers. It was his right to punish her and no others. How dare he allow another man to touch what was his.

Naked rage shone in Bulma's eyes and she lunged forward, extending her clawed hands to rake her nails viciously down the man's face, leaving bloody furrows in his flesh. He screeched with pain and batted her away, quickly diving after her as she reached for a rod iron bar that clattered to the ground.

The man on the street glared angrily down at the naked woman, his hands working furiously at his fly. He bellowed loudly for all to hear that she was his property, to do with as he wished and her money was in fact his. She deserved her punishment for disobeying him, for daring to think that she had any worth. The woman crawled back on her elbows, the fire in her soul that had been smothered so ruthlessly, resurfacing briefly. The man fell onto her, extinguishing the flame like a breath of air. His weight crushed her to the ground and the woman lay unmoving beneath the filthy man, her eyes dying with every thrust of his gaunt hips.

It was brutally easy to crush the will to live from someone. Vegeta felt the pressure to buckle under, nearly every day, when he stepped out his door. Life was a dangerous dance of skill and determination while living beneath Frieza's cold claw. Before he met Bulma, he had never seen anyone with so much life in their eyes, so much joy at simply existing.

Vegeta's face darkened with loathing as he watched the whore's eyes dim. He disapproved of the male's method of controlling his female. How many missions had he been on where he had seen the same thing countless times over? He didn't understand other males absolute need to dominate a woman in that fashion. He found the entire act to be messy and disgusting. As a warrior he would never allow himself to be left open to attack on the battlefield just because he needed to rid himself of bloodlust. Besides the look in the whore's eye was not one he wanted in his female. She may be a possession, but part of that need to own her came from wanting to tame the flame and hold it in his hand, not squash it in his fist.

People continued to surge around the pair, only a few stopping to watch with lustful eyes. They grinned and cheered the man on as he stripped his woman of the last remnants of her soul.

The food trader fell upon Bulma in a ravenous flurry of grasping hands and raking claws. With unholy strength, she thrust her weapon towards his soft underbelly. She felt the lax give of fat as his stomach contracted, but she didn't have the strength needed to push into his bowels. He roared with pain and he knocked her makeshift weapon away and Bulma cried out with despair. The man slapped her viciously again in the face and she spun away, sprawling across the wood table. He came up behind her, his hands tangling in her long hair. Burning pain laced through her body, originating from just underneath her shoulder blade. She could feel the ragged slice of razors on her flesh, pushing the silent scream that was locked in her throat passed her lips.

He pulled her the floor, her delicate strength no match for his greater weight. He dragged her skirt up around her hips, prying her thighs apart and bruising her flesh. His hands roughly fondled her sensitive breasts, sending sharp jolts of agony through her. She watched in terrified wonder as his thin, bloody lips split apart, reveling a row of needle sharp teeth that could rend her flesh apart in one foul bite.

His teeth parted and from the gapping maw of his mouth a long sinuous tongue appeared. Bulma gagged at the sight, but she instantly locked her jaw in place, terrified that if he stuck that hideous muscle down her throat that she would surely choke to death. Through clenched teeth, she called to her savior, the one person who condemned her, but whom she still trusted to save her. He would not allow this. He would not. She chanted silently in her mind. The darkness inside of her slid sinuously around in her brain, lending its voice to the prayer. They were bound together by a promise of blood and retribution that could not be broken.

"Vegeta." Bulma's voice was a whisper that could only be heard by his Saiyan hearing.

Vegeta watched the last of the woman's spirit flicker and die, leaving behind an animated corpse. The man stood up from her, not even bothering to help her to her feet, laughing uproariously as she struggled to stand, naked and bloody. They melted away into the crowd, the woman despondently following her master, hiding her face behind the fall of her dirty hair. A pain-filled scream rent the air, sending a shiver of recognition sliding down Vegeta's spine. He had heard that sound before, he dreamed of that sound as a boy, before had conquered his quilt and fear of his new life. There was a heavy crash, then a moment of silence. His name, softly spoken as a prayer reached his ears. Her voice was empty, hopeless…broken.

Vegeta turned on his heel, ripping through the counter and passed the cloth doorway. In the shadowy confines of the hovel he saw Bulma pinned to the ground by the spider creature, his unnaturally long tongue forcing its way between her clenched teeth. Her silk blouse was torn away and her skirt was rucked up around her hips but he noticed with some sense of relief that her white panties were still intact.

The food trader turned his head towards the invading Saiyan, disgruntlement showing clearly on his twisted features. "Wes ain't done yets." The creature scowled, ignoring Bulma who shoved futilely at his torso.

"You are now." Vegeta growled as he strode up to the trader and tossed him off Bulma with a flick of his wrist. The creature landed a few feet away, crashing onto the shoddy wooden table and breaking a few more clay goblets in his fall. Vegeta reached down and pulled Bulma to her feet. She hastily tugged down her skirt and pulled the remains of her shirt around her to cover her as best as she could.

Vegeta's piercing gaze looked down at Bulma, but like the woman on the street, she hid her face behind the fall of her teal hair and all he could see was the crown of her head. She stood before him, huddled in her ripped finery, trying desperately not to cry. Vegeta placed two fingers under her chin, lifting her face to his.

Her shadowed eyes met his obsidian gaze. His gaze left her breathless. It was as though he was peering down to the very depths of her soul, trying to discern how much damage he had wrought with his offhanded carelessness of her wellbeing. Something sparked in his eyes and she held stock still. He looked at her, really looked and a spasm of recognition crossed over his face. Before she could stow it away, down in the deep, dark depths of her secret heart he had seen the darkness that swirled inside of her. He felt the connection between them. A dark fate they could not escape. She locked away the traitorous voice that sought her own ruination at Vegeta's hands. She would not allow herself to be a victim of his charisma. She was not one of those weak willed females that fainted over the handsome but villainous antagonist. Nor would she fall victim to a sick and twisted form of Stockholm Syndrome. Vegeta's lips lifted into a cold smirk when he saw the defiance in her eyes. His heated gaze raked over her, taking in her newly split lip that matched the already healing bruise at her temple.

At first, Vegeta felt something inside of him stir at the sight of her emotionless gaze. She appeared damaged beyond repair, like an angel who had broken her wings when she fell from heaven. Her sorrowful countenance chastised him for his compassionless treatment of her and the bright creature that trusted him to protect her when they left the ship was no more. But then he saw the hint of darkness in her eyes, a gradual tainting of her soul. Something was twisting her mind against her, awakening her to new ideas and emotions that she would have never considered had she continued her pampered existence. He almost felt regretful, but soon the shadow receded as she struggled to subdue it.

Her eyes shone brightly with betrayal and it was a novel experience to him. No one had ever trusted him enough for him to betray them. Even when he had blasted Nappa, it wasn't so much a betrayal as it was unexpected. Both of his subordinates knew that if they didn't die in battle that they would someday be sacrificed by their prince for his own purposes. But the woman had trusted him to keep her safe. Maybe not safe from him, but definitely safe from any other creature that dared to attack her. She expected him to abuse her, it was practically an unwritten contract between them, but more importantly she expected that he would demand that he be the only one who did so. This was undoubtedly a setback in their unnatural relationship.

"Did he hurt you?" The question was mote. Her lip was throbbing and her eye felt like it was going to explode out of its socket. What he was really asking was if the spider merchant had violated her. She looked away, mutely shaking her head no. Her cold gaze settled on the vender who was struggling to his feet.

"No fairs, wes hads us a deal." The man mumbled childishly, disappointment shining in his huge black eyes.

Vegeta narrowed his eyes warningly at the creature. The vender shuddered in dread at the combination of icy hate radiating from the blue-eyed woman and the heat of hellfire that burned in the warrior's black eyes. Vegeta was still glaring at the offending merchant when Bulma rounded on him; her eyes alit once again with the spirit that dwelled deep inside of her. She drew back her hand and with all her might she slapped Vegeta full across the face. A sharp crack resounded through the shack and a potent silence descended on the room as they stared into each other's eyes. Normally, he would have never allowed her to do such a thing. No amount of distraction would prevent him from knowing that her pathetically slow attack was coming. However, he felt that the woman needed a certain amount of compensation for the blow her honor had taken and this seemed to be the easiest way to satisfy that.

Bulma glared hard at her captor and supposed protector. The message was clear on his chiseled features, he was not repentant and therefore she would not forgive him. With cold aloofness, Bulma gathered her pride around her and stalked from the hovel. Vegeta felt something akin to relief at the sight of her old fire blazing in her soul once again. He would have been sadly disappointed if this incident had broken her will. She was much stronger than she appeared on the outside and he was looking forward to her entertaining spirit for the weeks ahead.

Vegeta gave the merchant one last dirty look before exiting after her. They walked silently back to the ship, Bulma trailing closely behind, a small sniff escaping her here and there. Once they were on the dirt road that led out of town and their ship was in sight, Bulma stopped in the middle of the path. Vegeta felt a pricking sensation on the back of his neck and he abruptly turned around.

Bulma stood a few feet away, glaring harshly at him. Vegeta sighed deeply and squinted up at the sun, wishing that he was anywhere but there at the moment. The silence was broken by Bulma accusing voice as it rang out across the short distance that separated them.

"Why did you do that Vegeta?" She snapped and he was silently happy that she still felt secure enough to yell at him. A small part of him had been worried when she had gazed back up at him in the hut. The emptiness in her eyes had been too reminiscent of the whore's on the street.

"You asked for it." He retorted gruffly. He crossed his arms over his chest and stared down at her impassively. If she was fishing for an apology she would be sadly disappointed. Vegeta wasn't even sure if he was regretful. Mostly he was just hungry.

"Oh, so that's it." Bulma tossed her hands up in frustration. "You were teaching me a lesson. Don't cross the big, bad Saiyan prince or you'll regret it." She mocked while rubbing her leaking eyes with the back of her hand. As she stood there, her silk shirt knotted in front of her and her baggy wrinkled skirt hanging off her hips, she looked like a small child playing dress up in her big sister's clothes.

"I told you the price was too high, but you didn't listen." He snarled in response, angered at her twisting of the truth.

"Well dammit, Vegeta I'm hungry. Our situation hasn't changed any, except now I need a hot shower." She glowered down at her tattered clothes in disgust. Every time she thought about that hideous man's hands or legs or whatever they were on her body she wanted to vomit. "And now, my only set of clothes is ruined." She added with a pout.

Vegeta followed her gaze down to her front, suddenly finding it difficult to breathe and it had nothing to do with the dusty air. Her pale midriff was bared to his hungry eyes and he lapped up the sight greedily. The shirt was knotted between her breasts, barely enough material left to cover even that. Her skirt rode low on her hips, were she had fiercely tugged it down too far to cover her naked thighs. She looked like a much cleaner version of a streetwalker that could be found every two meters in this city.

"Well you know your way back to the trader's hut." Vegeta snapped crossly, his own hunger gnawing in his belly.

Bulma head reared up at his words and her eyes narrowed dangerously. She stalked across the path, raising her hand to bring it down on his jaw again. He caught her delicate wrist in his strong grasp, a hard line thinning his full lips.

"You only get to do that once, woman. Never again." His deadly voice rasped over her and she shivered under the midday sun. Their heated eyes locked and they raged a silent battle of domination. She lowered her gaze under the remorseless onslaught of his eyes, yanking her hand away and turning her back on him in a huff.

"Why didn't you just give him money?" She pouted while looking out over the rugged terrain. Even from here the stench of the city wafted through the dusty air, causing her to take shallow breaths.

Vegeta stared hard at the back of her head, resisting the urge to wring her neck for her snotty attitude. "I tried to give him a credchip, but he only wanted hard cash."

Bulma turned to face him, her brow creasing in concern. "You don't have any money?"

"I have money, just not any cash." He waved his credchip in front of her face, his male ego demanding that he prove that he was not penniless.

"You don't have any cash on you?" She batted his hand away, glaring up at him.

He smirked down at her sardonically and she blinked. "No, I must have left my wallet in my other pants." She scowled back in response, her lips curling back over her teeth in frustration.

"Why didn't you just say so, asshole?" She screeched.

Why? Do you have money stuffed up your snatch, you self-righteous bitch?" He bellowed back.

Bulma's face bloomed red and her eyes bulged as her blood pressure sky rocketed.

"You…" She stammered, small bits of foam forming at the corner of her mouth. Vegeta's eyebrow raised a fraction as he watched her rage infuse every cell in her body.

"You…" Bulma's lips peeled back from her tightly grit teeth as she spat the word out, desperately trying to form syllables. Her mind raced for the perfect insult that would adequately describe how much she loathed him at this moment. Dick. Bastard. Prick. She was so furious that her brain nearly shut down and she could only repeat the deadly mantra in her head. Asshole. Cock. Sonovabitch! Vegeta's eyebrow curved a little higher while he watched the woman practically collapse into an epileptic fit. Her mouth open and from the whirlwind of fury that was racing through her mind she could only pick out the one thing that was absolute.

"You…BAD MAN!!" She screamed with all the pent up rage she had subdued since he had callously tossed her into the bug man's arms. Vegeta rolled his eyes, honestly disappointed that she didn't say something more devastating, but at the same time immensely amused at the fact that he had so completely enraged her with his crude comment.

"Gee, I'm hurt." His droll tone dripped with sarcasm while he dealt her an utterly bored look.

"Oh, I hate you, you scum sucking bastard." Her hands balled into fists at the end of her stiffened arms.

"Likewise, you prissy, brainless, two-faced slank." He spat through grit teeth, desperately trying to control the urge to pummel her right there.

They stood their glaring at each other, faces red and jaws clenched. Dots danced in front of Bulma's eyes and she remembered belatedly to breathe. She drew back and ripped a delicate ornament from her wrist and threw it violently at Vegeta's face.

He caught it deftly and opened his hand to look down at a diamond encrusted tennis bracelet. "I assume that diamonds are a commodity everywhere." She hissed scornfully. Her heart seized painfully in her chest, while she watched him examine each of the stones, calculating the value in his head. The bracelet had been a gift from Yamcha, just before he had left to train for the arrival of the Saiyans. It had been the last real date they had before everything came crashing down around them. It had been a magical evening, made even more delightful by the thoughtful and expensive present he gave her.

She stood before Vegeta, half dressed, ragged, gritty and nearly collapsing under the weight of despair that swamped her. Only moments before, a wicked voice was whispering to her that she belonged to Vegeta. A possession, nothing more. Like the bracelet belonged to her. How could she think such stupid thoughts? How could any of this be happening to her? She felt like swearing until her face turned blue. She wanted to reach out and slap something and unfortunately the more she looked at Vegeta's smug face the more she thought she might be able to get away with it again.

All she wanted was to go home. She was getting too old to be running around looking for adventure. At least in the past she had Goku with her. He always kept her safe and protected. Now she was gallivanting around the universe with the prince of bastards. She wanted to go home, take a hot shower and curl up in Yamcha's arms. At least he loved her. The bracelet Vegeta held was proof of that. Yamcha loved and adored her. He would die to protect her. He would never trade her to a spider man. He would never hurt her. Bulma's thoughts sounded like a petulant child's even to her, but she couldn't stop them from swirling around in her mind.

This had gotten out of control. There was no way she was going to be able to outlive Vegeta. He was going to kill her eventually and there was nothing she could do to stop it. He was a cruel and heartless bastard. Did he even know the difference between good and evil? Had anyone ever bothered to tell him?

With one last glance at the bracelet, Vegeta swept past her. She turned to watch him leave. "Where are you going?"

"Where do you think, idiot? Get back to the ship and wait for me." His tone brooked no argument and frankly Bulma was too tired to try. She had enough of her first alien world experience. All she wanted was a long hot soak in the relative security of her room. She watched him stride away for a few more minutes before she turned around and darted back to her ship, where she knew she would be safe. At least, until Vegeta returned.