Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Unforgivable ❯ Vegeta's Slave ( Chapter 11 )

"You're more like me now." Vegeta tied off the bandage. "Who did this?"

"Customer."

"I stand corrected. And you owe me for your food."

"How do you want me? Cowering and whimpering like before?" Vegeta's jaw tightened. "I can do that, if you want. Or should I be the aggressor this time?"

"Oh, I think not. Your repayment is simple. You have to come back to Capsule Corp. with me."

"Not a chance."

"You already ate… your price. You can't give it back and refuse." The smoldering rage in his adversary's black eyes encouraged Vegeta to enlarge on that. "I can't have a slave in my castle if I'm not in the castle, after all."

The emotion vanished as if it had never been. "Ah. Of course not."

"What, you aren't going to argue?"

"No, Master."

That is not precisely what I planned. Just what has happened to him these last few months?

"Vegeta? Just what do you think you're doing?" Bulma screeched.

"I was enjoying a massage. I suppose you may have one when he's finished with me."

The tableau before her was an interesting one. Vegeta sprawled naked on the floor in their front room, where anyone walking in could see him. On his knees next to her husband was another man dressed in what could barely be called a loincloth. The scene was hedonistic, with candles lit to reflect from the glistening muscles of the men, and an assortment of cushions and pillows surrounding them. Vegeta's love of velvets and silks was obvious in the selection of the cushions - they were all from his room.

"You couldn't have gotten one at a massage parlor? Or at least in your bedroom? Anyone could walk in and see you!"

Vegeta promptly rolled over. "So they could. Do you think they would enjoy the view?"

"VEGETA!!!!" She yanked an afghan from the couch and threw it over her laughing husband. "You're impossible!"

He snorted, pulling the afghan to his waist. "You may continue," he told the masseuse. His arms behind his head, he looked at his wife. "I did what I set out to do."

"You found Goku?" Her anger completely forgotten, she crouched eagerly next to him. "Where is he? Is he okay? Did you bring him back?"

"I found him. He has no interest in returning here."

"Oh." She deflated. "Did you tell him we were worried?"

"He did not seem to care. I believe his exact answer to that was 'Really' in a rather uninterested tone, after which he wanted to know why I was there."

"You told him you were there to bring him home, right?"

"Of course. I was informed he was home." Malicious mirth lit his eyes. "He doesn't want to come back here."

"Vegeta, Goku is one of my oldest friends! Where is he? I have to go see him."

"Why?"

"Because I need to apologize to him! I…" She seemed to suddenly remember the masseuse. "Could you go away a minute?"

Vegeta smirked, then jerked his head. "Food." The man nodded once, and left the room.

"I screwed up, and I treated him really badly. I didn't give him a chance to explain. I've known him since he was a little kid, and I… I treated him like dirt."

"I've seen the way you treat dirt. You didn't treat him nearly so well as that."

"Oh, and did you treat him any better?" She looked up as the tattooed man returned with a tray of food. Expressionless eyes caught hers for only a moment before the man knelt next her husband and offered the tray.

"Why, no. If anything, I've treated him much worse. Isn't that right, my pet?" he asked, selecting a bit of cheese from the tray.

"No, Master."

"No?" Vegeta paused in the act of taking a bite, then smiled. "No, indeed not. I have yet to add such an insult to the injury given."

"As you say, Master."

"Where did you find this guy? Master! What is with that?" Bulma rose, disgusted. "Take yourself to your room. Chi-Chi is coming over soon, and the last thing she needs to see is…" She spoke to air. Vegeta and the strange man had disappeared.

Safe in his room, Vegeta selected a few items from his wardrobe. "Actually, it might be amusing to be down there when she comes. Do you think you wife will be more observant than mine?"

"She lived with me."

"So did mine, if you'll recall. All those adventures?"

"Not quite the same."

"Indulge me a moment. Tell me what happened these last few months. Part of your fee," he added when it seemed the other would object.