Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Thee Untamed Soldier ❯ Deceit ( Chapter 3 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

Authors note: (Grins) Here is the update for the next chapter, there may be a few errors but eh, I am after all only human. I am hardly perfect. Once again, I apologize for slow updates. I base off my updates from Reviews, and of course by free time (whenever that is.) So the more Reviews I get the quicker I am to update my next chapters (hint-hint) so please make sure to read, and review---and share your comments.


Prince Vegeta watched her yank away from him with a shriek of fright. Had he thrown icy water over her head, he could not have shocked her more. She did not get far. His grip was iron on her wrists. Casually he pulled her back to him, until her nose almost touched his.

He was indifferent to women, with precisely two exceptions, but he was not immune to females he found attractive, and this one was probably as close to perfection in relation to a female Saiyan as or close to any species that he would ever come to find---in face and form, at least. Despite the fact that she was no common wench---that undoubtedly she was an experienced courtesan sent to whore for him and spy upon him by his enemies, of whom he had a few---he was hardly indifferent to the entire length of her naked leg, now clamped between his, or the softness of her breast, crushed against his chest, or the astounding beauty of her exotic features of her face, that was mere itches from his own.

Blood had long since surged below, he was heavy and impatient. Their position was so intimate that she could feel every inch of him, but wasn’t seduction her intention? Why else would such a women be sent to him in such an elaborated disguise? He attributed her wide, frightened gaze to his having ascertained the truth.

For a moment, despite his better intentions, he debated with himself---in taking her. Then and there, hard and fast, and he’d be done with it. Answers could come later. But he was his father’s son and heir. Furthering the interests of Planet Vegeta, and it’s growing Empire. It had been his overriding ambition since he had won his Warrior title of an Elite at the prime age of thirteen. Which was very young to gain such an honorable title, and one of the most bitterly enduring title to have. His reputation as a keen and ruthless leader had been earned, not given. Answers could not wait. If his enemies knew he was there, his plans were in jeopardy.

“Wh-What?” Bulma finally managed to grasp out.

“I think you heard me very well, women.” He stated, coldly.

Because his blood was so overheated, he set her down on the cot beside him while keeping a cautious grip upon her forearm. Inherent politeness made him refer to her as if she were noble when she was obviously the furthest thing from it. To look at her, a man would never have guessed. For some unfathomed reason, he was oddly disappointed that her angelic façade was only that, a façade.

“Who sent you here, spy? Frieza, or that traitor Bardock and his son? Or is Kakarot once again up to his irritating pranks?”

She stared at him as if mesmerized, he was a hardened warrior, yet a small sweep of empathy fazed upon him. The courtesans he knew---and so frequently used---were a lot older in age, and most where sex slaves, or concubines. She was young, very young. The girl he was looking at, could be no more older then fifteen or sixteen, but then again---looks could be deceiving.

“I am not a spy!” She whispered out with disbelief.

“Don’t treat me as a fool,” he said coldly.

“You promised you’d release me!”

“I am not yet healed,” a smirk slid to his dark features, as he watched her comprehend his statement. Instantly she understood the meaning behind his trickery, he watched as rage suffused her features. He should not be surprised at how quick she was. Only a very clever women would be sent to work her famine charm upon him.

“You---you, jerk! You deceived me.” She cried out. “You made me believe you’d let me go after I tended to your wound.”

“You believed what you chose to believe.” His patience was at an end. “Enough, I demand answers and I demand them now. Who are you and who sent you?”

She shook her head, tears coming to her eyes, tears that could not, he told himself would effect him. He had a cold heart, one molded into steel and thorns, sense the young age of six. He knew from many years of experience that, with very few exceptions, women were not to be trusted. This one was not one of those exceptions; indeed, she should be mistrusted more than most. She was young but no innocent and no child. Undoubtedly her fear and tears were theatrics and nothing more.

“Once again, you Jerk! I am not a spy.”

Another thought had occurred to him. “Tell me, did Son-Bardock send you?”

She started, “No! He didn’t. I don’t even know him! I am not a spy, I swear it!”

She was lying. He was certain of it. Just as he was certain now that Son Bardock, was behind this treachery. Newfound anger made him doubly grim.

“I warn you, women, I have the means of extracting information from you, and once provoked, I am merciless.”

“Please! I can explain to you, this is not what you think!”

“Then I suggest you do so now.”

“I---I am a bastard, my father was a scientist named Malcolm Briefs of Capsule Corporations. My mother was dependable on my fathers technology and support. She was a nobody, a stay at home mom---they were killed on the full moon of Earths first purge. I’m a slave to the Saiyan Empire who took rule of Earth. I am a nobody---I work in West City and a free-working slave,” She blurted fast.

He did not change his cold frown, such a claim was only possible if she thought to dupe him, giving her absurdly ill-fitting disguise. And it was possible that she was actually telling the truth, although he himself already knew that Earth Empire held little to the Saiyans Empire during Bardocks determination to crush the Kold Empire, knowing the Freiza was the doom of the galaxy. He would rather fight off the Prince and King’s wrath of his own heritage and blood, in order to defy the Lizard bastard‘s commands to subdue to the Kold Empires will. Son Bardock was no ally---he was an enemy that could not be trusted until the treaty was renewed between the two broken Saiyan Empires of Earth and Planet Vegeta. Son Bardock, one of the finest fighters in the galaxy; his sons close behind where a tempting advantage to once and all take over the Kold Empire, all in due time. Until then no one was to be trusted.

“Eager now to volunteer information, women? Where is this Capsule Corporations?”

“The outskirts of West city, as far west as you can go.” She worried her hands in her lap, avoiding his intense gaze.

It was an excellent lie. He would not be able to confirm her parentage in a timely manner, although confirm it, he would. He almost felt a grudging respect for her, she was no fool. And to come to him on such an errand took a great deal of courage.

“As far West as you can go,” He repeated. “As far West as Turtle (Hermit) island?”

She smiled in relief. “Almost.”

He sat very still, regarding her in a cold stature. It was the first time that she had smiled since he had laid his eyes upon her, and if he had thought her beautiful before, she was magnificent now. The interrogation had distracted him from his carnal tendency, but now his blood rioted and his manhood reared rock-hard against his spandex shorts, that had been semi-torn. Gruesomely, he investigated forward.

“I see. And what brings you so far South to the boarders of the Son Bardock?”

She was flushing, a thin pink passion trail of a rose petals tender caress licked high upon her cheeks, tearing her gaze from his spandex rise of his shorts. He could almost see her mind working. It was clear to him that she thought frantically for a plausible answer, which puzzled him greatly. If she were as clever as he was becoming convinced that she was, she should have memorized her story far in advanced of there meeting. That, and her blush. That damnable innocent blush.

“I am from the out skirts of West City, where I work. My family use to own the company business that later on was taken over by the Saiyan Empire. I was only a toddler when Earth was purged, so I don’t remember much of what my father partook in, but I had taken over Co-owner ship from the science division team---still keeping partly some of the funding and stocks that the business turns in with it’s invention teams every year. The Empire, was kind enough to allow me to a small percentage of it’s yearly income to support myself and to keep part ownership in my family’s business. To that I am very grateful.

Prince Vegeta leaned his back against the pillows behind him, on his cot. As he chuckled softly. “A memorable performance, women.”

“You don’t believe me?”

“I do not believe a single world you have said.”

She froze, her azure hues where lit up and captivated to his.

“You have ten seconds, women, to tell me all of the truth. If you fail to do so, you shall suffer the consequences forewarned.”

She grasped, pulling away from him. He knew her intentions the moment that she did. She shoot to her feet, intent on escape. Although there was nowhere for her to go, but into the arms of his men. Vegeta only responded as any hot red-blooded Saiyan warrior would. Despite the pain that shot through him, he staggered to his feet, too. He caught her at once. She screamed.

Without so much as a thought, he turned her in his arms and griped the back of her head and covered her mouth with his. He had touched her intimately, but he had not really tested her pink-passionate lips, that begged for a mans attentions. Not in the manner he had wished to, from the moment he first grazed upon her extraordinary exotic features. He had kissed her openmouthed and thoroughly he tainted her with his wicked tongue only to have her force him out. His hands slid down her back, each palm cupping one of her firm fresh young buttocks. “Let us try again, little one,” He said hoarsely, lifting her up against his raging erection. He moved his mouth down on hers.

“No,” she had started to utter, but was cut off as his mouth opened hers quickly. Vegeta plumbed her warmth with his wicked tongue once again, each thrust becoming more and more forceful, more ravenous.
Tentatively she met one, and the tips of their tongues touched for the first time.

He could no longer contain himself, his body surged even more wildly, more impossible, in response to her---he wanted complete, instant submission. He expected it. He need it---now. But to his amazement, she suddenly pulled her face away from his. “No---I cannot do this!”

“Do not test me now, wench.” He growled, catching her chin in one hand. He forced her mouth up to his again.

She cried out in another halfhearted protest. She raised her small fist against his solid chest, but then found herself clutching to his exposed flesh with need, her fingers accidentally began to stroke at his tenderly solid chest. Brushing over his tanned nipples all in one as her fingers seemed to message there with need. Vegeta would have laughed with primitive delight except for the fact that he was too intent now to laugh about anything. Their mouths were fused, and their tongues were mated.

Suddenly she had torn her face away. She struggled frantically now in his iron embrace, as if to escape, yet her ever twist lead her to brush wickedly upon the arch of his manhood, it was an artful and agonizing as a ships whore’s purposeful caress. As an actress, she was superb. For it was almost as if she were not a seductress, as if knowing the end was near, she was truly panicked. Despite his brief confusion, he could not stop himself now. He only tried to reassure himself that she was deliberately provoking him into a state of confusion. To incite him even more wholly.

The Prince, had had enough of these games. He had no desire to spill his royal seed upon them both, which at this state he feared he might actually do. He pushed her down once again forcibly to the cot, as she continued to play the unwilling wench. Her fist bouncing pitifully off of him, making small, fearful sounds. He took her mouth again and when there hips touched one another for the first time, he settled himself upon her. She was still now. Unmoving.

Lightning appeared to have struck them both. “I will wait no more, little one.” He whispered, a spell of words he had never whispered before he had met her. Those artic-azure hues, that he now gazed upon as he spoke were wide with emotions he could not identify. Her face was flushed with that passion pink color tone, and sheen with a thin layer of sweat. She did not move, and her palms curled about his massive shoulders, gripping them tightly as a human female could. Incomparable to a Saiyans grasp---but he could feel it then and there. A smirk curled upon his sinister features.

The Prince began to spread her legs wide with his knees, beginning to shake fiercely. He was aware of the drops of his own sweat that rolled down his face, and onto her shaking flesh bellow. He flicked her long tunic up to her waist, and for a single moment, was suspended above her in his male dominance.

There gaze clashed again, it met and held. She attempted her open her parted lips to speak, but said nothing. Vegeta looked to her breasts. Watching them heave for starved air---he noticed her nipples were tight and rect. It tempted him, and so he touched one. He watched her eyes drop close, and heard her sob, the sound laden with anguish.

He looked down at her and could no more help himself from fully touching her exposed flesh. He slid his hands between her legs and found the folds of her flesh swollen, and heavy with the pulse of her blood. She was hot for him as he was for her, spy or not. This was no act. He thrust a finger into her.

He froze. There was no mistaking the barrier he had come up against. He was shocked. She could not be a virgin---She was a whore sent to spy. But she was a virgin; it was a proven fact now.

In the midst of confusion there was a sudden and sweeping sense of ecstasy---she had never known a man; he would be her first. This far aroused, he had never denied himself---a Prince. But he had never taken a virgin before---unlike many men he knew, rape had never excited him. If she was a virgin, then she was no whore or a paid vessel sent to spy.

Vegeta’s mind reached these astounding conclusions in mere seconds. It was probable the hardest deed he had ever done, but he launched himself off of her. Dazed and panting, he lay unmoving on his stomach beside her, wishing that the mid-sized cot was pressing himself into was much, much harder.

Sanity returned swiftly despite the persistent ache that lay in his spandex shorts. There were no virgin whores, no virgin spies he could think of. Was it possible that she had been telling him the truth all along? Was her father some decised Scientist, and mother a brainless twit---who depended on the male competence for success? It was plausible, yet he doubted it. Her hands had never seen rough labor, but she was dressed as a slave who labored. If she was a bastard slave, why had she been raised like a noble. This costume was a disguise, but why?

Suddenly she moved. She slid from the cot, as quick as a wild vixen. Vegeta was even quicker, reaching out and grabbing her before she took a second step to her attempted escape, he did this without moving from the soft lush bedding of his cot. His leg hurt too much now for such crazed antics. The force of his grip caused her to fall in a heap at his side.

Restraining a groan, he sat up and extended his hand to her. “Women?”

She was out of breath, her lungs grasping for air. Although he saw that she was furious, he allowed her to take his hand and he lifted her to her feet. It was a mistake. Immediately she drew back to her fist and hit with all of her strength in his jaw.

He didn’t move, unaffected by her futile attempts to inflict him with injury. He was rendered speechless.

“Saiyan Bastard! You are a brainless twit, a monkey no better, you’re a brainless brute, and a liar!” She shrieked. She raised her fist to hit him again. This time the Prince reacted. He caught her wrist, pulling her forward. She wound up in his lap.

“No!” She screamed, twisting to pull free of him.

He held her in place. “You have deceived me, struck me, and insulted me,” He said harshly, shaking her once. She went still. “I thought you brave, but now I am beginning to think you very foolish---or even mad.”

She lifted her chin, a defiant gesture, despite the fact that her eyes were glazed with unshed tears. “I am not mad---Ape!”

His jaw tightened. “You have lost your burr, women.”

She paled, “When can I leave?”

“You were not so eager to leave me---and my bed---a few moments ago.”

She flushed. “No, I am eager to leave your poor excuse for a bed---and you with it. This second if not soon enough.”

“Who’s the liar now?”

“I speak only with the utmost integrity!”

“I fail to believe that. Indeed, this far you have not spoken a single word that is true. I ask you again, who are you and why are you here?”

She swallowed, meeting him stare for stare. He felt her mind working. “Please, unhand me.” She said meekly. “And then I will tell you what you demand to know.”


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*I apologize for the lack of the update, I personally don’t think I’m getting enough reviews to keep the up posting ongoing. I feel that given the chance to get the story up and going a little more I should ensnare a few more readers. I sold my soul to the ARMY, I am trying to keep up with typing---please let me know how this chapter came out.