Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Salvation ❯ Devil's Little Soldier (Part one) ( Chapter 4 )

Woo, I think this is the longest chapter I have ever written. I was going to split it in two completely different chapters, but nah, I like it better this way, besides this calls for a good build up. I encourage you to read the whole thing, however, if you're a dirty perv and want to jump straight to the action then go to the second half of part two, (which as of Sept 23 is in the works). But before doing so you need to read the warning below first.

WARNING!!!: (Pertinent to second part) This chapter will offend you.

Well, that just depends on you. It is defiantly going to raise some hackles, but eh, I'm willing to take that risk. This is not, I repeat, NOT for anyone squeamish, or anyone with a lot of scruples. The first three chapters are fluff in comparison to this, so I advise you, if this isn't your cup of tea back off now.

Contents (part two): Bondage, S&M, Blood letting, Het (you heard me), Yaoi, Orgy, Double Pen, Ritual Sex, Masochistic Torture, Master/Slave.

However, this will NOT contain non-con or rape. Last chapter aside; I fucking hate non-cons! Everyone in this chappie is willing and ready.

As for the pathway, look at the title; I apologize for nothing.

Still want to read?

Then by all means…

Chapter Four: Devil's Little Soldier (part one)

Goten flipped through his notebook before looking at his computer vacantly. The yellow hue of his desk lamp reflected in the screen. His eyes transfixed to the glare, unmoving.

He'd been sitting here now for two and half hours getting no where fast. Try as he might, he couldn't concentrate. He looked at his bedside clock, the red digits reading 10:05 p.m. His dark eyes then sought out the phone sitting on his roommate's desk. Goten had wrestled with questions burning in his mind since he walked through the door. The answers of which could possibly lie in the black handset only a few feet away.

"No," he said aloud, "it's too late. I'll call in the morning."

He typed another line and did a word count; 420. Goten frowned and leaned back in his chair. What else could he write?

`The Catholic Church is filled with time honored traditions. An example of this is the head priest giving the choir boys blow jobs while they flog themselves and jerk off.'

He doubted that Professor 17 would approve. But what was the deal? He knew what had happened to him wasn't right. The Church's sex scandals were infamous, but he never thought it was going on so close to home. Well now he knew first hand. Seed swallowing…what a joke. Yet, if this was so wrong, why did it feel so good? A sense of shame welled up within him.

Goten wasn't naïve; of course he got pleasure from it; he got a fucking blow job for Christ's sake. What did bother him was the slight thrill he had gotten from watching the priest bleed on the tiled floor of his office. The mixture of Yamcha's cries of pain and pants of pleasure had made his-all-ready-spent-cock stir.

Goten snapped his notebook shut.

"Fuck it."

He leaned over and snatched up the phone punching in the number quickly, lest he loose his nerve.

He drummed his fingers anxiously during the first three rings, on the fourth he nearly hung up when a woman's voice picked up.

"Hello?"

"Erm, hi."

There was a moment's hesitation, "Hi," the voice repeated slowly, "who is this?"

"Goten."

"Oh hey Goten! What's up? Are you looking for Trunks?"

"No, ma'am," his heart was pounding in his chest; he really didn't know how to begin this conversation. "I...I was wanting to know if I could talk with you and Vegeta-if you have the time, that is."

"Sure you can. What about?"

"Um, well I'd rather talk to you in person if that's okay.

"No problem." Another pause. "You're all right aren't you?"

"Yeah, it's just…well, when can I speak with you?"

"Well, tomorrow we've got to be somewhere-

"Oh," Goten said thwarted, "don't worry about it then. Sorry to have bothered you…"

The other woman said something but he was so busy drumming off excuses and apologies he had to pause and ask her to repeat herself.

"I said," she stressed, "why don't you drop by now?"

"Oh, um," This was unexpected, "isn't it late? I wouldn't want to bother you."

"No way, you're never a bother. Besides, we're night owls here. So why don't you bring your little butt by and we'll talk."

"Well, if you're sure."

"Goten," she said sharply, "get your ass over here."

"Yes, ma'am."

He hung the phone up, staring at it as if it held the secrets to life. That had gone much better than he expected but now what?

Speaking with Trunks' parents had never been a problem. He was given a lot more lee-way at his friend's house than at home and took advantage of it, never hesitating to say what was on his mind. He'd always envied his friend in this respect. His mother, though he loved her dearly, was a bit of a prude. As such, he didn't talk to her about a lot of things. And his father was so damn dense at times he didn't bother. Bulma and Vegeta on the other hand, were both highly educated and not easily offended when it came to the moral high ground. While Trunks found this embarrassing at times, Goten thought it was awesome. But this could be crossing the line. He was going to ask them about the taboo subject of religion. Which that in of itself perplexed him. He had never heard Vegeta or Bulma ever talk about anything remotely spiritual before. This also brought to mind Yamcha's words of caution.

Yamcha.

He grabbed his jacket and scooped up his notebook and pen. Damn his reluctance, he was going to ask about the priest's ominous warning. It was obvious that something big had transpired between the three of them. So much so, that the scarred man was scared shitless of the couple even though he tried to hide it with contempt.

The demi-saiyan's mind was whirling with questions, so wasting no more time he threw open the window and leapt into the night sky.

Bulma was waiting for him, standing on the balcony with a mug curled in her hand. He landed next to her lightly, they greeted one another and she led him into the kitchen. She pulled out a chair, pointed to it and then offered him some tea, which he accepted.

As she handed him a steaming cup the striking form of the Saiyan Prince entered the room. He nodded his head in the slightest of acknowledgements before moving to the refrigerator.

"What's this about?" he asked without looking up as he snatched a bottle of purified water.

Goten fidgeted in his seat and stared down at the tabletop. Perhaps he should have asked to speak with just Bulma. Vegeta could be extremely intimidating even without meaning to. And this was a touchy subject. He'd never approached the other man with anything this personal before. Maybe he'd been too rash. He chided himself for not thinking things through first.

The lack of a response caused the elite to turn and look at him. But it was Bulma's concerned voice that reached his ears,

"Goten?"

The teen looked up. They were both staring at him; Bulma sitting across from him at the table and Vegeta leaning against the counter top.

"Have you talked to Trunks recently?" he asked.

They couple looked at each other.

"He called a few nights ago," the blue-haired woman replied, "Why? He's not in some sort of trouble is he?"

"Oh no," the demi-saiyan assured, "I was just wanting to know if he talked to you about helping me with a class project."

"He mentioned something about it, but didn't go into detail."

No help on that front. He'd been hoping that his friend had divulged some information about the nature of the project so he wouldn't have to. But now that he thought about it, he guessed Trunks didn't want to be too open about it. Telling your parents about your sexual conquests was being a tad too candid, at least in his opinion. But nevertheless he was going to have to start talking judging by the expectant looks he was receiving.

"Well, I'm taking Introduction to Western Religions with Professor 17 and we're doing a special class project."

"Oh," Bulma beamed, "Trunks took that course. He loved it, said 17 was one of the best professors he'd ever had."

"Yeah, he's pretty cool, but um, anyway," he said getting back to the point. "I have to write three 700 word essays on three different religious paths. I also have to meet with members of these groups and if possible participate in one of their rituals each."

"That sounds excessive for an introductory course," the prince intoned with a raised brow.

"Yeah, I kinda have to do more work than everybody else to bring my grade up."

"Why?"

He glanced at the older man, "Because," he bowed his head, "I've skipped class a few times and haven't turned all of my homework in."

Vegeta shook his head.

"Lazy brat."

"Well," Bulma said, "how bad is it? What's your grade right now?"

If possible his head dropped further,

"23 percent."

He cringed at the exclamations thrown his way.

"I know, I know, I screwed up big time, but please don't tell my mom." He looked at them imploringly. "She'd kill me. Besides," he said, straightening, "if I pull this off I can pull my grade up to a C-"

"You're damn lucky the android is giving you a second chance," Vegeta reprimanded, "I would have thrown you out on your ass. And a C- isn't that great-

"Give him a break, Vegeta, Sheesh."

Goten smiled his thanks at the woman seated next to him. She returned the gesture with a wink.

"Getting back on track," she continued gracing her husband with a look. He grumbled for a moment but otherwise stayed quiet. "Of course we won't tell Chi-Chi. But I'm fairly sure you didn't call to talk about your grades. So what's going on?"

Taking a breath he began his explanation. He told them about the Ostara festival, omitting certain parts of course, and then moved on to this evening's activities. The moment the words `St. Christopher's,' left his mouth he was interrupted, both by a scoffing sound coming from the direction of the elite and the genius who spoke.

"Oh, Goten," she groaned, "why didn't you go to St. Luke's or St. Paul's if you had to attend an Easter mass? St. Christopher's is such a purist branch."

"No shit," Goten cut in, a frown etched on his face. He immediately apologized for his cursing, but it was waved off. "Videl took me; it's the church she attends."

"Hmph, I forgot that your brother's mate was involved with them." Vegeta's lip curled in disgust. "I'm impressed that you were able to sit through all of that self-loathing shit without blowing the place up."

"Eh, I don't get too wound up about things like that. But," Here it comes, "I spoke with the priest."

"Old scar-face?"

"Er, yeah," he paused to see if Bulma would chide her husband's choice of wording, she didn't, "He took me downstairs to his office…" his face flushed with the memories of the past hours. He trailed off and looked at his shoes, not knowing how to proceed, not knowing if he could.

The silence drug on until he heard the sound of chairs sliding against the floor next to him.

He felt a gentle touch on his shoulder.

"Did he do anything to you?" came the quiet question from his right.

He risked a glance up. Vegeta was sitting next to him with an unreadable look on his face. The hand on his shoulder, however, belonged to Trunks' mom. She had moved from her previous position and was now sitting at his left. Her face was painted in anxious worry.

A flush crept deeper over his cheeks and after a hesitation he nodded keeping his eyes glued to the ground.

"That fucking bastard! I knew it!!"

Goten's head shot up in shock to see Vegeta's retreating form heading for the balcony. He vaulted from his seat and caught up with him just as the older man was preparing to blast off.

"Wait! There's more. Let me explain."

The Saiyan prince halted and looked down at the teen beneath him, he then gazed at the woman who stood behind him. Goten didn't see the exchange, but whatever Bulma's expression was, it was enough to get the Saiyan to stalk back inside the room.

They sat down once again around the table. Vegeta was livid; his jaw set and his fist clenched at his side. His wife wasn't doing much better, but she had enough control over herself to ask;

"What exactly did he do?"

Goten was understandably upset by this point. How had they known? He was beyond confused. However, he forced himself to answer, even though he originally had no intention of sharing this bit of information. All he wanted to know was why Yamcha didn't want him to go to them as far as spiritual advice. This was too humiliating and he felt his eyes burn despite himself.

"A ritual." he said softly.

"Go on," the blue-haired woman urged, placing her arm around him.

He felt instant comfort wash over him and with more strength in his voice he went on.

"He called it `Seed Swallowing,' it's…it's." He broke off, Kami, how was he supposed to explain what Yamcha had done. The confession cum blow job was bad enough, but afterwards…he fidgeted in his seat uncomfortably.

"We know what it is. You don't have to explain."

Though still visibly furious, Vegeta's eyes had softened.

"I could have stopped him if I wanted too," Goten admitted in a whisper, "I'm a lot stronger than him, I could have stopped- But, I didn't. I agreed to it." He hung his head guiltily.

"Did you know what you were agreeing to at the time?" Bulma asked, tightening her hold on the youth.

"No. But once I found out I didn't want to back out because I was afraid he wouldn't help me with the project. Plus…" he trailed off. He didn't want to admit that he enjoyed it, especially since they knew what it was; blood and all. "I should have stopped him, huh?" he asked in a small voice.

"Goten," Vegeta this time, though the teen didn't look up, "you shouldn't have been put in that situation to begin with. He fucking manipulated you."

The teen lifted his head to protest, knowing full well that the man next to him considered him a weakling for not standing up for himself. But an additional hand on his shoulder stopped him.

"I'm not blaming you, boy. The prick has a lot of practice from what I understand. I'm sure he made the whole thing seem perfectly natural."

Goten nodded and gathered his courage, "He did, but I'm all right. No-' he held his hand up when Bulma opened her mouth to speak. "I am. That's not why I came here." He took a breath and squared his shoulders, "He warned me against coming here for my third religion. He said that you two were essentially up to no good and for the sake of my very soul I should stay as far away from you as possible. I want to know why. You two don't strike me as the religious type."

The question seemed to throw them off. They stared at each other for a long moment before finally Bulma answered.

"We're not, in the classical sense of the word. However, we are affiliated, and in fact, are chair members of an organization that Yamcha devoutly hates and has a personal grudge against." She paused, her cerulean eyes settling on her husband. There was a silent exchange before she spoke; "Should we ask him?"

Goten was confused. Ask who?

"I don't know if he'd agree, but given the circumstances…" the prince trailed off and got to his feet. "I'll ask. Goten's old enough now, anyway. Besides it's for educational purposes, not morbid curiosity."

She nodded and watched as her mate of twenty years vanished from sight.

"What's going on?" Goten asked.

"I'm trying to see if we can take care of your third religion as well as get a grip on what happened to you tonight. Speaking of which," she motioned to his empty cup, "would you like another? Or maybe something a bit stronger, considering the night you've had, I promise not to tell your mom."

Despite the situation, that earned a grin.

"Thanks, but tea will be fine."

She grinned, "I'm impressed, Trunks would have jumped at the chance, not that he gets any around here. Though I'm sure he has his fill of booze on campus."

"Nah, he's all talk."

Bulma blinked, a vacant look on her face, "Wonder where he gets that from?"

They both chuckled. Goten was dying to know what was going on. Several times he ventured to question the woman further but she kept asking him about school and his family before he ever got the chance. Half an hour passed this way until he felt an approaching ki. A few moments later Vegeta swept into the kitchen a pleased look on his face.

He leaned against the counter in his previous position and looked at Goten. "Are you free tomorrow night?"

"Yeah."

"Do you still need a third religion to write about?"

The teen inclined his head, "Yes."

"Good, then be here tomorrow night by 8:00."

The day seemed to crawl by agonizingly slow. Vegeta and Bulma offered no further information the night before and he had left shortly after. His mind was buzzing and it wasn't until the early hours that sleep finally claimed him. Waking around noon, he had gone about his day lazing about. He refused to work on his project until tomorrow; there would be no point in looking at it now considering that he was going to be taking care of his third and final religion tonight. But because of this, each hour seemed like two as the day slowly drug by. He attempted to busy himself with web surfing and video game playing. But even these mind-numbing activities were disturbed by the flux of questions racing in his head, and you could only die so many times to the sound of "Fatality" before you grew frustrated.

Throwing his controller down in disgust he thought about spending a couple of hours at home to visit with his family. He'd at least get a good meal out of it. But for some reason he just didn't feel up to it. He glanced at his watch again for the hundredth time; 5:27 p.m.

`Are they part of some kind of cult?' he wondered. And who did Vegeta talk to? Who is this mystery `he'? If it turns out to be some sort of therapist I'm going to be pissed. I shouldn't have told them about the whole seed swallowing bullshit. I swear their worse than my parents sometimes.It's not like I had to suck hiscock. But they wouldn't do that would they?... Bulma said organization, like they're part of a business group or something. That would make sense; she does own the most powerful corporation in the world. But how is that religious? Unless it's like the Masons, but…well maybe that's it. Still, I didn't think Yamcha would get so bent out of shape over them. But then again,' his mouth turned down, `he doesn't like people who live outside the social norm either. Maybe they'reMormons!That'd really get him going, wouldn't it?' The minute that thought passed his brain he couldn't help but grin, `Well, okay, not Mormons. Masons, maybe, but defiantlynot Mormons,not with theirlifestyle. Besides, Yamcha wouldn't have been that fearful if it was something like that.' He looked out the window, staring at the street below him, `Fucking Christ, what in the hell happened to him? He used to be pretty cool, now he's molesting boys? This doesn't make sense.'

He shook his head, clearing away his thoughts. It was senseless sitting here pondering what was to come, he'd find out soon enough. In the mean time, he decided the best thing for him would be a walk to the local fast food joint to get a cheap meal. His mother wouldn't approve, she hated what she termed `junk food on the fly'. And he had to admit his mom's cooking was a hell of a lot better, taste wise and nutritious. But he wasn't up to going home. He couldn't look her in the eye, not after last night. What would she do if she knew her little boy was a perv?

"Probably send me to Kami house, to live with Master Roshi," he mused out loud. Even though he was trying to make light of the situation he couldn't shake the disgrace that hung over him like a cloud. What was wrong with him? He asked this of himself more than any other question today, and considering the day, that was saying a lot.

After he had eaten, time seemed to catch up with itself. He hurried back to his dorm took a quick shower, brushed his teeth, and stood bare ass in front of his wardrobe pondering what to wear.

"What in the hell kind of place am I going to?" he mumbled, shuffling through the many tees in his closet. During the Wiccan festival he was told to wear rugged casual clothing. And obviously he had to dress nicely for the church, but this? Sighing he decided to do the best of both worlds. He pulled on a pair of boxers and socks and chose a loose, but nice, pair of jeans and a collared shirt. After doing some more touch ups in the bathroom he was ready to go and just in time too. At 7:54 he touched down on the front lawn of Capsule Corporation.

A young blue-haired, blue-eyed girl was the one to greet him at the door.

"Hey Goten!" she smiled up at him crazily. Before he could open his mouth to reply she had turned her head and shrieked.

"MOOOM, DAAAD, GOTEN'S HERE!"

"Damn it, Bura, don't scream like that!"

The girl turned her head and stuck her tongue out at her older brother. He pushed past her to his child-hood friend in the door way.

"Ah," Trunks said sweeping dramatically in front of him, "come in, brave soul."

"Freak," Goten replied as he walked past him. "What are you doing here? I thought you were spending the rest of your break with your," he paused, "friend."

"Scott," Trunks supplied giving Goten a pointed look. "I am, but tonight it's animal control-ow, I mean baby-sitting," he corrected as he was kicked in the shin by his younger sibling.

"I don't need to be baby-sat, Trunks!" Bura retorted angrily, shooting glances at Goten beneath her bangs. "I don't know why mom and dad called you."

"It's because they don't want their precious little doodle bug to come to any harm."

She turned a bright shade of pink, "Don't call me doodle bug," she hissed again looking at the other teen before blushing even more. Goten graced her with a grin. "And I can take care of myself," she finished.

"Okay then, I'll tell you the truth." He crouched down on her level, "You see, since I've moved out, I've gotten real home sick. I can't even fall asleep without turning a light on at night it's gotten so bad. And, well, I thought if I spent some time with my little sis I'd feel better."

The girl eyed him incredulously.

"You're a looser, Trunks."

Goten burst out laughing. Trunks seemed unfazed by this,

"Oh come on, just hold my hand. Give big brother a hug." She squawked with indignation when he scooped her up hurling insults along the way. Somehow she managed to squirm out of his grasp and made a bee line up the stairs and out of sight.

"That went well," Goten said, snickering.

"Didn't it, though?" He smirked. "She has a crush on you, if you haven't noticed."

"Yeah, I kinda picked up on that."

"Hm, I'll have to talk to her about her lousy taste in men," Trunks intoned with a raised brow, "Anyway," he continued, "I have to say that I'm impressed."

Goten looked at him, "About what?"

"You. You're actually going with mom and dad." He shook his head, "Wow."

"What do you mean?"

"You'll see. Besides, I'm shocked that they agreed to let you come."

"Why? Haven't you gone with them before?"

"Nah, it's not my thing. Besides, I only came of age two years ago, and by that time I had all ready been a Wiccan for three. I'm happy where I'm at."

Goten crossed his arms, "You're being evasive on purpose aren't you?" His face grew serious, "Did I get in over my head, Trunks? Seriously? Is this going to freak me out?"

At his friend's change of demeanor, Trunks' face softened in understanding.

"That depends on you. I'm not privy to the exact goings on, but let's put it this way. My parents agreed to let you come with them, which means they think you can handle whatever there is to handle."

That made him feel better even though he was a bit disappointed that Trunks hadn't told him where he was going or who his parents were associated with.

"Oh good, you're all ready here."

Goten turned to see Bulma. Her hair was swept up but otherwise she was dressed casually which put him more at ease with what he was wearing. Vegeta was behind her, impatiently urging her towards the door.

"Come on, we need to go."

She waived her hand in the air "All right, all right, we're going." She looked at her eldest child, "Make sure your sister is in bed by 9:30, not a second later."

"Yes, mom, I know."

"Well, don't let her con you into anything-

"Bulma!" the prince cut in.

"Okay!" She muttered under her breath before picking up her jacket, "We'll be back from the temple no later than 1, there's plenty of food in the fridge."

Bells went off in Goten's head. Temple. So they were Jewish. He smiled to himself, satisfied that he had finally figured it out, and chided himself for getting so worked up in the first place.

"Got it, bye mom," he said pointing to the door, which his father was grateful for.

Rolling her eyes she allowed herself to be ushered outside. "Come on, Goten, apparently the world's going to end if we don't get in the car this second."

"Apparently," Vegeta retorted as walked towards a vehicle that cost more than Goten's entire education twice over, "you want to ride by yourself, while the boy and I fly over."

After bestowing her husband a look and a universal, if not rude, gesture she sat herself in the driver's seat and started the engine.

The trip itself was uneventful and full of small talk. Goten leaned back comfortably in the leather lined back seat. Now he understood what all the fuss was about. St. Christopher's was one of the Christian sects that did not forgive the Jews for the betrayal of Christ. It made sense that Yamcha wouldn't want Goten to have anything to do with them. Feeling loads better now, he enjoyed the ride, not really paying attention to where they were going.

It was only when the car paused at a gate and Bulma lower the window to speak to a guard did his attention perk. Since when did synagogues, have guards? Well with places like St. Christopher's around perhaps it wasn't such a far fetched notion. Shrugging, he leaned back as they pulled through the gate. They went down a lane for about a half of a mile before a huge building loomed into view. Goten sat up and scrutinized it more closely, he expected something a lot more…humble. This place looked like a manor straight out of the movies.

"All right there, Goten?"

He looked up to see Bulma studying him from the rear view mirror.

"Yeah, it's a cool building."

He cringed, ``Cool building', what in the fuck was that? I'm such a dork.'

However this seemed to appease the woman and they pulled up without another word. He got out of the car and looked upward at the several spirals that looked medieval in construction.

"Impressive isn't it?" The blue-haired woman asked.

Goten nodded and looked at the man standing next to her. He'd been eerily quiet since they got into the vehicle. Right now he was looking at him with a guarded expression.

"Come," he said simply and started up the steps towards a set of double doors.

Bulma motioned in front of her to allow him to go first. He jogged up the steps wondering why the Jewish community would want to put their temple all the way out in the sticks. There was nothing out here at all, just fields and woodlands. In fact, now as he looked around, he bet they were in the same county that Tara lived in; the priestess he had met earlier through Trunks.

Well, perhaps they were fanning out. He jogged up the last few steps to join the Saiyan who stood at the top awaiting him. He was watching him closely as if gauging him for a reaction. It unnerved him to be honest, he couldn't understand the reason for such a look. It was then his eyes caught the engraved letters etched into the stone above the door. His blood ran cold.

This was not a synagogue, and Bulma and Vegeta were not Jewish.

Above the door it read;

`THE BLACK TOWER

TEMPLE OF SET'

Author's note: I thought this would be a good place to stop. I'm working on part two as we speak. (Yes, yes, I know, I keep prolonging all of the sex stuff…I'm working on it now, I promise!) I hope to have it up and running within a week. I apologize for the large gap between postings. I've just moved from Missouri to England, and I've been without the internet for awhile.

Thank you to all that reviewed, Debbiechan, jaygoose, aijou tsuneni mukei (hope I spelled that right) and especially Camaro, that has got to be one of the best reviews I have ever received! Many, many thanks.

I encourage all to let me know their thoughts, be them good or bad. Feedback is the only way we author's know how well we're doing and where we could use improvements.

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