It was her big fucking mouth, Bulma suspected, that was the source of her troubles.
She could be on Earth right now, laying out like a lizard by the pool, if she hadn't quite boldly announced herself head of Capsule Corps new space exploration program, despite her fathers concerns.
Hell, if she would've stopped yammering on for just a fraction of a second maybe she would have heeded her father's warnings and just fucking not go to space on her own.
But, noooooo, Bulma Briefs doesn't make an announcement to the world and just back out on it. Of course not. If Bulma Briefs says shes going into space as a one woman crew, than by golly shes going to go to fucking space all on her lonesome, to hell with everyone else!
She shifted in her restraints, ignoring the rhythmic movement she was being pushed to.
Hmf.
Back to her thoughts.
At the very least, Bulma mused, she could have just observed a planet and its inhabitants before making contact. That would have been the smart thing to do.
But no.
Instead, she excitedly landed on the first planet she came upon and naively exclaimed: " Hi, I'm Bulma Briefs of Earth! ", to every alien that would lend her their equivalence of an ear, and proclaimed that she was a very important woman from Earth.
That, "I'm pretty much a Princess where I'm from!", and ,"Nope. I traveled here all by myself. A genius like me can handle a ship like that on her own, no crew needed! Why do you ask?".
If she would've just...stopped fucking talking...maybe she wouldn't have been snatched up and sold into some two-bit brothel. She could still be floating around space in her nice ship, merrily observing the stars and dreaming up Capsule Corp space expansion schemes.
Bulma clutched the silken ropes looped around her hands.
If she was going to be honest, running her mouth may have very well been the thing keeping her from getting back to Earth right this second.
In theory, after the first two months of suddenly not hearing from Bulma, the whole Z-gang would eventually grow concerned and gather the Dragon Balls, wishing her back home safe and sound.
Well.
They might have done all that.
But, in a rage, Bulma shrieked at Yamcha while all their friends looked on that she was going to be gone for MONTHS, maybe even YEARS in SPACE, and don't he DARE try to come and find her, don't he dare even try to TALK to her.
" In fact, NONE of you call me! None of you even THINK about me!", she had yelled while pointing an enraged finger at every single one of her friends, "And Yamcha?", this part, she remembered she said with such venom," You're SINGLE now."
" I'll be FINE.", she had angrily told a concerned Krillin, shoving him away from her. She didn't want anyone coming with her and DISTRACTING her. She was going to be VERY busy, and yes she could take care of herself, thank you very much, everyone could just go right on and fuck off because she was a genius and she didn't need help or big muscles, she had her brains.
And after the tirade she slammed the door on everyone's confused and very concerned faces. You know...for emphasis.
Bulma's head dipped forward in shame, head bobbing on her chest with each thrust.
Her friends...they were right to be concerned. She was a naive idiot.
She sighed in despair.
Or rather, she went to sigh and couldn't.
Because she was gagged.
Gagged, bound, blinded, and literally getting fucked terribly.
You see, instead of realizing she was at the mercy of whoever was running the brothel she was sold to, the very second Bulma stepped foot into Yungkt' Tudor Wat (she had no idea what the fuck that name stood for), Bulma would butt-heads with every big-shot she ran into. Every. Single. Time.
In a particular stroke of confidence, Bulma, rather saucily, told big boss Mr. Yanciel, the absolute worst person to even mildly irritate, to go fuck himself, all while customers looked on.
Without missing a beat, he had heatedly replied, " Eet eees yous who weels be fucked!", and proceeded to set up Bulma for a barbaric game of "Whats-Fucking-Me-Now?!". She could still see Mr. Yanciel rubbing his disgusting pinchers together evilly.
Uh-huh. Ohhhhh yeah. She was beginning to see a pattern here.
Her big fucking mouth was most certainly the root of all her problems ever.
Okay.
It was settled then. If you want different results you gotta change a variable, and she was going to change alright. She would, from this moment on, be the quiet contemplative type. She would smartly assess every situation before adding her two cents. She would look before she leaped! She would-
Puke.
She wasn't sure WHAT exactly was shifting around down in her cooch, but she was pretty sure its half-assed ministrations brought itself to climax. Finally. Yuck.
At least someone was having a good time in this shit hole.
He couldn't believe he was in this shit hole.
Not that it was really a shit hole, according to Radditz.
Apparently Yungkt' Tudor Wat (or Legs Tits Ass in the galactic standard) was the finest establishment on this side of Planet Freiza 1307.
According to Radditz, this was the place to get the best of the best of the best that was offered on this planet.
According to Radditz they would find "...the craziest hoes, Vegeta! They'll do shit for you that will fuck. you. up.", which was apparently a good thing.
From what Vegeta gathered, Yungkt' Tudor Wat was the nicest, cleanest, shiniest piece of shit one would find in the shit hole that was Planet Freiza 1307. And he was stuck here for the next night.
Vegeta sighed into his sweaty glass, and took a swig of his drink.
" Oh man! Oh shit! Look at the pinchers on this girl, I would loooove to get me some of that action."
He took another swig.
" I dunno Radditz...how do you know its a girl. "
He took another swig.
" Are you blind, man? Look at the size of that thorax, Nappa, and you try and tell me shes a man!"
He downed the whole thing.
" Yeah...I guess now that I look at it closer it does seem to be female. You could always just tear a hole in her thorax and fuck that, I hear thats customary fo-"
"ANOTHER DRINK.", Vegeta growled out as he threw his glass at the bartender. If he was going to suffer he was going to at least make a very good attempt at getting trashed and hopefully forgetting this whole train wreck of a night this was bound to become.
FUCK, he should have never fucking agreed to this.
He could have gone back on his word, told Radditz and Nappa that, actually, they didn't deserve a night at a whore house. But nooooo, he was the Prince of all Saiyans, and the Prince of all Saiyans doesn't just go back on his word like that! He had honor. Ugh. He felt sick.
Another drink was placed before him, and Vegeta promptly knocked it back.
" ALRIGHT, VEGETA, YEAH! LETS GET CRAZ-", Vegeta punched Radditz in the face.
" Shut the fuck up, you fucking idiot. Hurry up and make your selection so we can leave this cesspool."
Radditz rubbed his cheek, and sulkily went back to looking at the catalog with Nappa.
Vegeta turned away from them, choosing to entertain himself with their surroundings.
For such a trashy place, this one was much nicer than some of the other brothels Nappa and Radditz dragged him into.
The Selecting Lounge they were currently sitting in was quite lavish on its own. There was a smokey haze filling the room and with the lights dimmed low it certainly made for quite the atmosphere.
All the sitting arrangements were plush and draped in red velvet, every seating area had a table not too far off and each table had a screen embedded in them for quick access to the digital catalog of whores that were available.
It was in this catalog that Radditz and Nappa unabashedly swiped through, only stopping to read the bio of one blue-haired whore.
" Daaaaaaamn, 3347 must be getting punished, they got her senses cut off and shes totally gagged."
Vegeta's ear curiously perked at the comment. He turned on his bar stool, and tried to casually lean up against the bar counter at Radditz.
"What do you mean 'her senses' are cut off?", he asked as nonchalantly as he could.
Radditz wolfishly smiled, Vegeta wasn't fooling him. The Prince of all Saiyans had to be pretty buzzed to show interest in anything, let alone the inner workings of a brothel.
" Ya know, her senses are blocked off. They'll put a particularly bad whore in this head-band shit that blocks out all sound and completely blinds 'em. Sometimes they'll gag them too. The idea is-"
" They can't see or hear what is happening, so they are left with an amplified sense of touch and the fear of not knowing what is happening. I'm familiar with the form of torture.", Vegeta finished.
They had some low-key Freiza level shit happening at this brothel, that was for sure.
" Its called a sensory-band my Lord. "
Vegeta rolled his eyes, " Shut up, Nappa."
" Anyway,", Radditz continued, "This girl must have pissed someone off. Normally they just put the band on their head and turn it on, rarely will they gag 'em too. They got this girl with all that shit, the gag, AND they have her tied up. "
Nappa squinted down at the catalog. " Why is she priced so high? Usually they discount the bitches they punish."
Vegeta peered over at the catalog screen, catching a glimpse of the girl they were talking about.
It was hard to make out anything with the provided image, but she appeared to be humanoid. He could clearly see the silver sensory-band clipped over her ears, and bulkily coming across her eyes. In her mouth was a bright red gag, and red rope was knotted and tied all along her body, restraining her legs and arms.
Vegeta squinted at the picture, the image quality was really shitty, was that blue hair cascading down her sides?
" Ohhhhhh. That makes sense. Shes an exotic, apparently. They even have her listed as a princess."
" Pffffft. Like hell they have a princess in this shit hole. What a fucking gimmick. They better have fucking papers for her if they fucking want my 50,000 creds. Where do they have her listed from, huh? Because if its anywhere in sector 3 I can fucking tell you right now there is no and there has never been any fucking royalty in sector 3!"
" Shut the fuck up, Nappa, God DAMN, its not like you fucking have to order her or anything. It says here shes from...Eeeyyart?"
" Earth. Its pronounced Earth. Thats funny, Radditz, your brother was sent there!"
"Whaaaaaaat? The fuck are you talking about?"
The two Saiyans yammered on, but Vegeta had tuned them out long ago and continued to stare down at 3347.
A Princess, huh? Either way, she was probably kidnapped or sold into slavery against her will. He knew the form of torture she was going through. Freiza had done something similar to him a number of times.
Of course, he hadn't been gagged or fucked, Freiza liked to hear him scream but it was from beatings, thank God, and that was besides the point.
In Vegetas drunken stupor, he felt a kinship to this little nothing whore. It must have showed in his eyes, because Radditz started to look at Vegeta funny.
"You gonna get her your highness?"
Huh?
" I saaaaaid: You gonna get her? or what? Nappa keeps bitching about her like he can even afford her-"
" I CAN afford her, but do I WANT to afford her?! She seems like a rip off-"
" Shut UP, GOD. You're SPITTING everywhere. What do you even care! You're not even paying!", Radditz shoved Nappa harshly and turned back to the prince.
" Come on, Vegeta, you promised us the whole night and you might as well enjoy yourself while you're here! Besides, you're always talking about how you hate women who stare at you too much and how whores are too mouthy-"
" I NEVER said ANY of that."
"-and shes got a gag! And shes a princesssss..", he waggled his eyebrows," Its like she was meant for you."
He had a point.
Well, not with the princess part, there was no fucking way the owners of this place could ever dream of having a princess in this dump.
But everything else, Radditz made a good point. He was stuck here for the whole night, and he did hate...whore talk. And this one was blind-folded so he wouldn't feel as awkward as he normally felt-
"...85 for him, number 0032 for me and he'll be taking number 3347."
The waiter nodded and slid three cards through the device in her hands before looking back up at the group of Saiyans.
" I have numbers 2485, 0032, and 3347. Is that all for you tonight?", Radditz and Nappa nodded in unison while Vegeta gaped. What the fuck. Did he just fucking assume-
" Okay, Sirs, all together that will be...82,000 credits!", everyone turned and beamed at Vegeta. The prince snapped his mouth closed. He reached into his breast plate, and slammed his chip card onto the counter for the waiter to take.
He didn't like Radditz making decisions for him, not without truly consulting him first.
The waiter passed each man their respective key card and with a wink she very huskily said, " Enjoy.", before turning to tend to the next customer.
" Allllright VEGETA! YEAH. LETS-", Radditz got punched in the face. Again.
" Shut up."
He couldnt wait to get this over with.
She couldnt wait for this punishment to be over already.
It had been, what, two days now? Three? Its amazing how your sense of time just fucking disappears after a mere hour of absolute darkness. She hoped it had at least been longer than a day already, she couldnt imagine being tied up any longer.
The sex-with-hundreds-of-strangers part wasn't so bad, surprisingly. It actually didn't happen that often, and when it did sometimes it could be nice.
The other day (maybe), she had someone (or thing) touch her gently and in all the right places. She could have gotten off from it had they continued to touch her that nice, but lets be real here. She was a whore now, and you don't pay to get a whore off.
Whatever.
She could at least pretend it was some handsome princely beefcake copping a feel. Or princess. Bulma didn't really have a preference anymore, as long as whatever was touching her at least felt somewhat human.
Of course, sometimes it could be absolutely horrifying.
One of her more violent customers had cut her painfully above the breast with what she had hoped was a knife but could have just as easily been described as a talon. She couldnt be sure how bad the cut was, what with the sensory-band and all, but the amount of blood she felt trickling down her body was enough to make her shoot into a panic.
Luckily, Yungk't Tudor Wat took decent care of their...property.
After every visitor Bulma had, another worker would come in to check on her. After giving her a sponge bath (still gagged, blinded, and bound) they would assess her body. The cut she was given was apparently deemed bad enough to put her in a regen tank.
And now, here she was, rejuvenated and hung up with her legs spread so wide apart even the most promiscuous of women would blush, waiting for the next asshole with deep pockets to waltz in and fuck her again.
Thats fine.
This was all fine.
This was all going to work out! All she had to do was endure it, maybe even try to enjoy some of it, and once her punishment was up she would turn over a new leaf. Her big fat mouth wasn't going to get her in trouble anymore!
Nope, she would be respectful to Mr. Yanciel, maybe even friendly, and when he least expected it she would fucking ditch this whole fucking planet.
'And once I'm back to Earth', she gleefully thought, 'I'll just gather all the dragon balls and wish for this whole thing to have never happened!' She chuckled around the gag.
Ah, yes, she was most definitely a genius.
Or she fucking lost her mind.
Whatever.
Sometimes you have to be insane to survive.
'This is insane.', Vegeta grasped his head in frustration.
He was wandering down the halls of the giant brothel, walking by all types of floozies and customers, looking for his assigned room number. Of course, he couldnt have been assigned a room that was close to the lounge.
No. His room was the last room down the second longest hall he has ever had the displeasure of walking down (the first being the obnoxiously long hall that takes you to Freizas throne room), and he only found the hall after walking down an elaborate series of even smaller halls.
When he finally found his room his annoyance had sobered him up significantly.
He didn't like this.
He didn't like this whole situation one bit.
He should have never tried to motivate his men with a promise of a night at a brothel. Who fucking knew you could get two of the universes slowest assholes to move faster than fucking light at the mere mention of the possibility of getting a piece of ass?
He should have never come here with them, should've just stayed near the pods.
He should have never showed interest in this whore, shouldn't have even considered Radditz suggestion of getting this tramp. If he hadn't just sat there in a drunken daze then Radditz wouldn't have had the chance to order him 3347 on the sly. Now he was 50,000 credits lighter than he needed to be and the situation was completely out of his control.
Sigh.
What the fuck was he supposed to do with a whore?!
He hated them.
He hated their dead eyes that screamed they were about to die of boredom, but still drank in his uniform and tried to milk him for more money. He hated how they made half-hearted comments about, "nnngh your dick feels soooo good", and how he could only hear greed and pity in their voices.
He hated how they touched him and grabbed him. He hated feeling them...
The whole thing, he hated the whole fucking thing, the whole act was one big ole shit show and for that he could just watch some space porn and be infinitely more comfortable. He just wanted to dump his seed and move on, not waste his time with some hooker!
'I suppose Radditz was right. Maybe 3347 was meant for me.'
3347 was bound, so she couldnt touch him with grubby hands. Gagged, so he couldnt hear forced gasps and unsolicited advice on how to fuck her. And he didn't even have to try to not make eye contact, that was already taken care of.
Hell, if he got in at the right angle nothing but his dick had to touch her. Hmmmm.
He had already paid for her. He supposed he should at least go in and take a look. It wasn't like she was going to hear or see him come in, not with that dumb sensory-band. He could just sit in a chair if he didn't feel like fucking her, no one had to know.
He nodded.
He had a plan.
Everything was going to be fine now.
Vegeta slid the keycard into the doors locking device, when it pinged green he went inside.
He closed the door.
He looked up.
His eyes instantly landed on 3347, suspended from the ceiling and the intimate display of her pussy spread wide.
When you can't see or hear, all you can really do is smell and feel.
Bulma couldnt smell anything different, but through the ropes of her constraints she could feel the vibration of the door slamming shut. She perked up.
Would this customer have hands? Or tentacles? Or, shudder, pinchers?
Would they be warm and gentle or rough and calculating?
Where would they touch her first, and would they savor her body inch by inch or jump right to dessert?
This part of the punishment...well it wasnt really punishment at all. It was really the only amount of fun Bulma could have in a situation like this. Who would fuck her today?
Even if it was for a second, it was nice to dream up of some prince of a fellow touching her passionately, making her feel good as much as he felt good. Worshipping her body, every inch, to the point he fell in love with it and whisked her away from her plight and took her on some extravagant adventure deep into the galaxy.
Some adventure that was so amazing and soul satisfying that even this whole stint at the brothel was worth it in the end. They would fall in love, and live happily ever after back on Earth.
Sigh.
It was her favorite fantasy, an old standby from when she was just a young girl. Now it served as the most wonderful distraction from her bleak reality. She needed something to hold on to.
Bulma snapped back to attention, and blushed deeply. She could swear she felt the intensity of someone elses gaze...looking right at her most private of parts.
She squirmed and tried to close her legs as much as her restraints would allow her, which was really nothing at all. She could feel the heat of her blush travel all the way down her body.
Bulma was on display, and her heartbeat shot up in anticipation.
Vegeta broke out in a sweat. What a vulgar display.
There in the middle of the room, daintily hung up over the large plush bed, was number 3347 spread wide and waiting.
Red silken rope was intricately tied all the way up her white skin, coming around her chest and lifting up her soft breasts in a harness. The rope wrapped and knotted ornately down her torso, and went between and down her thighs, hitching to be tied up to the hooks in the high ceiling that had her suspended. Her arms were tied together and pulled up, making her pert nipples point out.
And there, between her spread out legs, was number 3347's smooth pink pussy, boldly and prominently displayed.
He watched her suddenly take in a breath and wiggle a little. Her mouth clenched around the red gag, and her cheeks suddenly stained pink. Vegeta couldnt help but notice her blush travel down her body.
Maybe she sensed his presence?
He took a step closer to her...
..and made a bee-line to the assortment of alcohol on the side table.
Who was he fucking kidding, he couldn't fucking do this! What the fuck was this?! This was all just so..so sudden! How was he supposed to just sit down and ignore her when she was displayed like...like that?! And. And! He was pretty fucking sure she knew he was here, he saw her suddenly tense up the second he shut the door behind him. Fantastic.
The Prince of All Saiyans, reduced to a panicking fool, at the mere sight of one whores genitalia.
He took a nice big gulp of the highest proof alcohol he could find.
'Okay, okay. Don't be such a cowardly shithead. You're the Prince of all Saiyans, for God sakes, fucking act like it. Why are you so flustered over one whore? So shes spread-eagle, so fucking what? Thats probably her natural state, right?! Don't be such a disgrace and chicken out, fucking do something!'
He took another swig of the bottle, and unclenched his fist.
He had options, he just had to make a decision. Thats all.
He could either fuck the girl, or sit the rest of the night, it didnt matter if she noticed him or not. The original plan was still on if he wanted it to be.
He turned back towards 3347, and hesitantly stepped closer to her.
'Maybe...', Vegeta eyed her suspiciously, '...maybe she is a princess from Earth.'
He took in her appearance. She was definitely exotic. Long ocean hair and soft powder skin, her coloring was very unique. Vegeta had been dragged all over the galaxy, and the few humanoids he had run into had never had skin as pale as hers, or hair as brilliantly tinted.
Or maybe her coloring wasnt unique for an Earthling at all, and she was just some common peasant. He honestly didn't know Earth was a thing up until tonight.
He took another step towards her.
The picture in the catalog didn't really do her justice, if he was being honest. Her body looked supple and inviting. Her legs were long and her thighs and ass were thick.
He shook his head and went red. Stop that. This was just a recipient for his seed, who gave a fuck how she looked?
She was probably exactly like the handful of prostitutes Vegeta had: bored, boring, spectacularly mediocre. And slimey to the touch.
3347 was nothing special.
He boldly took a step beside her, and, trying to prove a point to himself, curiously dragged his finger down her thigh. She jolted at his touch, and her skin blushed pink.
Vegeta sucked in a breath.
She didn't feel the least bit slimey under his glove and...that look.
Maybe he was wrong (the sensory band was covering almost half her face afterall)...but she looked like she enjoyed his touch.
Bulma's heart was going to beat out of her chest any moment now.
Any fucking moment now, she was just going to go straight into cardiac arrest.
There was no fucking mistaking it, that was a gloved finger lightly trailing down her thigh.
That felt like a good, honest to God, human finger.
This was the best possible situation for her to be in, the ultimate fodder for her childish fantasy. Whether this customer was going to touch her lightly or slap her viciously, she really really wanted it all to be done by a human hand.
She paused.
'Now wait a minute...', her genius mind traveled elsewhere.
If this person was human...what were they doing in deep space? She was supposed to be the first woman, no, the first human, to go deep space traveling-
Ohhhhh that felt nice.
The finger that had lightly trailed down her thigh had been joined by the rest of the hand, slowly feeling their way up the backside of her leg and pulling her back to the present.
The hand slid down once more, she could feel the goosebumps raising in their wake.
Who cares what they were doing in deep space, who cares if this person was even human!
Whoever was touching her now was lamenting in her body, and she could not have been more thrilled by the feel of whoevers large hands were running down her person.
She sighed dreamily around her gag, and allowed herself to be transported into her ultimate fantasy.
Her Prince was finally touching her.
The woman's mouth may have been gagged, but she was still talking to him, Vegeta was sure of it. The little whore's body was very telling.
As his hand went down her leg and over the ropes he watched her skin sing with goosebumps at his touch. When he trailed his hand back up, he watched her sigh a melody around the bright red ball in her mouth, and her hands unclenched the knot of rope they were holding.
He stopped his ministrations, and he could almost swear he saw her pout in protest.
He smirked.
Maybe it was the booze loosening him up, but this seemed a lot more entertaining than sitting in the chair all night.
He reasoned with himself.
He already paid the 50,000 creds for her, and when was the last time he relaxed and had a little fun? Why not indulge?
Besides, maybe not all whores were atrocious. Maybe Vegeta's bad hooker streak was finally coming to a break. Yeah! Maybe things were finally turning up Vegeta!
That was all the drunk persuasion he needed.
Vegeta bit the finger of his glove and pulled. When his bare hand collided with her skin, both their chests hitched with breath.
Who was the last person he felt without his gloves on? He couldn't recall.
Did everyones skin feel this soft and inviting?
Did everyone hum with electricity when touched?
His body was buzzed with alochol and her skin. It felt good, and somewhere in the back of his mind he began to understand why Radditz and Nappa must have frequented brothels and bars. This indulgence was the most decadent of escapes.
He caressed up the sides of her ribs and rested his hand on her full chest. He could feel her heart flutter. That he could make a heart beat so wildly from touch alone...he felt a swelling in his chest.
The unmistakable scent of arousal hit his nose. He smirked. She was indeed a little whore if she was getting riled up by just his hands.
He grabbed her generous hips, and pulled her core towards him.
Vegeta dipped down, and tasted her.
From her center and up towards her clit, Bulma felt the strangers rough tongue taste her cunt in one, slow, agonizing lick.
Her body's reaction was instantaneous. One long shiver tingled down her spine and she bucked.
She felt the strangers lips on her inner thigh vibrate with laughter and suddenly she was filled with embarrassment. She squirmed to move away but her Prince just grasped her hips tighter, dimpling her skin.
Immediately the tongue returned to lapping slowly at her pussy and Bulma let out a muffled needy groan at the heightened sensation.
The heat was building in her quickly, spreading through her body in a wave. With each wet trail traced around her clit Bulma gasped, and each breath her unknown guest sharply blew across her center resulted in full body trembles. She could feel herself, throbbing and wet, and she whined around her gag.
This person was undoing her with just their hands and tongue.
The tongue suddenly dipped inside her, with a gasp she thrusted forward and together, without a word uttered or a gesture needed between the two, they both found a rhythm. He would slip inside, drawing out her juices with his curved tongue, and she would raise herself to meet her Prince, over and over, vulgarly thrusting and shaking her protruding hips forward in a blatant request for more.
She could feel it.
In the silence and velvet darkness all she could do was feel. She was acutely aware of the stars that were beginning to form in the black before her eyes, aware of the tell-tale feeling of exquisite pressure finally reaching its limit.
She was close to exploding and she whimpered and drooled around her gag pitifully.
Her body was so beautifully imploring for its small death. And suddenly her cruel Prince denied her.
All at once everything stopped. There was no tongue roughly tasting or hands greedily touching.
And Bulma was thrown back into the unknown, no sight or sound to learn from, only the feeling of her body dully humming with unfulfilled lust.
Vegeta's body was a symphony of nerves.
Every fiber of his being was singing with want and he felt control slipping further than he intended. He was rapidly sobering up and his thoughts were desperately trying to regain composure.
The creature beneath him was dripping with need, because of him, for him, and he felt himself painfully strain against his armor at the sight.
What the fuck was he supposed to do from here?
He only meant to pass the time teasing her for a short while, but now he found he was enjoying torturing the little woman a bit too much. Who would have known that making someone squirm with agonizing pleasure could be so addicting?
Now Vegeta found himself at a crossroads. He could listen to what his brain was screaming at him to do, regain control and his self-worth and get the fuck out of here.
Or he could be honest with himself and do what he wanted to do.
He could reach over and knock 3347's restraints from her hooks. Remove her gag, and throw her on the mattress. Watch her soft little body bounce from the force, before he reached for her arms and roughly enter her while he held her down.
He could plunge into her over and over, shoving her further and further into the silky sheets. Make her scream so loud that the sound would echo down the absurdly long hallway, letting every worker within ear shot, every customer mid-fuck, stop and listen to the little whore crying and drowning in absolute pleasure.
Vegeta broke out in a sweat. These visions were going to give him a heart attack.
Fuck. It was blaringly obvious. He shouldn't. He really really shouldn't take part in this any longer. The prince turned away from 3347.
He hesitated, slightly turning towards her once more. What was the big deal? One night of indulging in velvety skin and slick folds..
His raging erection clouding his better judgment was the big fucking deal, he should be leaving this place! For fucks sake, what the hell was wrong with him?!
He was never this indecisive, never this hesitant! If this was a battlefield he would be dead.
A few minutes of dicking around and he became completely undone. If this was a Saiyan trait it was no fucking wonder his whole fucking race died, the lot of them probably had their heads up their asses and their dicks leading the damn way.
Vegeta briskly turned around once more, determined to make it to the door and down the halls. He owed it to his dumb dead race to show a little restraint.
After the first three steps...he stopped. He heard her, whimpering around the gag pitifully, pulling against her restraints. He could smell her sweet honeyed arousal filling the room, and if he turned around he would see her spread wide and slick for him.
He had made it to the door, he stood triumphant and ready to slide the key card so he could leave.
But his traitorous ears perked up.
She wasn't whimpering, he realized, she was trying to form syllables around the red ball in her mouth.
She was trying to call to him.
In a moment of weakness and curiosity, Vegeta floated back to 3347, his mind screaming at him that if he didn't leave this instant he was doomed to spend the rest of the night in this dimly lit room.
He reached for her gag anyway, and sealing his fate, he removed the red ball from her mouth, a trail of saliva connecting them for a moment before snapping.
The room tensed.
In a feminine voice, raspy with disuse and honeyed with lust, 3347's pouty lips formed the only string of words to bring Vegeta to his knees.
" P-please. Stay and fuck me, my Prince."
Vegeta dropped the gag.
She was lost. Lost and floating in darkness, her mind clinging to her only escape in months, her humiliatingly childish fantasy.
If this was back on Earth Bulma would've cut out her own tongue before admitting she still dreamed of a Prince, let alone beg some stranger to fuck her into oblivion while she called them her Prince.
But this wasn't Earth.
And lost in her little haze, her pride gone and her identity lost, Bulma forgot her earlier reverie, and her recent resolve to think before she talked.
Instead she opened her mouth, and into her perceived darkness, Bulma pleaded.
" My Prince? P-please don't go...please..", she boldly thrusted her hips, "...fuck me."
She bit her lip, she could feel her whole body blush and she gripped the ropes tied around her.
She needed those hands on her body again, she would trade anything for that sinful tongue to dip back into her. She would be devastated, humiliated beyond redemption, if she was shaking her hips to an empty room.
Suddenly, Bulma felt herself plummeting down.
Her panic was quickly replaced with realization, as she bounced and settled into the mattress below her.
Her Prince was answering her.
The alcohol had waned. The storm of indecisive thoughts had finally subsided.
Vegeta had made his decision.
In the morning to come, he would most certainly berate himself for losing control, for indulging in something more than just a quick bodily release.
A soldier didn't have time to relax. A warrior didn't need to feel.
But for now, in the privacy of the dimly lit room, he decided to forget his duty as a soldier, a warrior, a Saiyan.
Vegeta was a Prince, and a Prince did what he liked.
He loosened the slick ropes, ran his hand down the woman's ribs, put his ear against her plush chest and he shoved his finger into her softness.
He listened to her gasp, the breath turning to a throaty moan. He heard her pleasure vibrate through her whole body. He could feel her heart beat hard against his cheek.
He put in another finger.
She gasped again, her head falling back against the pillows, sensory band still in place, the inhaled breath causing her to tighten around the fingers. She moaned, longer and louder than before, and Vegeta smirked against her breast. He curved his fingers and her voice hit a higher pitch. He was making music out of her.
As he slowly slid his fingers out and pumped them forcefully back in, Vegeta undid the silk rope around her wrists with his free hand. The little whore instinctively wrapped her arms around Vegeta, hands hitting his armor hard.
She was grasping at him, biting down on her lip trying to keep quiet. Vegeta took notice.
" No no no..", he removed his fingers from inside her, bringing them to her mouth to pry her lips open, " I didn't remove your gag just for you to keep those moans in. "
He undid his lower armor, released himself from his spandex restraint.
Vegeta positioned himself over her, his cock pressing against the entrance of her pussy, " I want to hear you. ", he murmured into her mouth. He pushed himself inside her.
Her shriek bounced off the walls, the pleasure evident in her strained scream.
He picked up the pace.
Her cunt clung to him each time he pulled out, clenched around him each time he pushed in, and each time 3347 shrieked without fail, each scream so impossibly loud that the noise surely pierced through the wall for everyone to hear.
Vegeta's senses were overloaded with pleasure, and very faintly he was aware of the little whore beginning to babble a small chant. "Pleasepleasepleasepleasepleaseplease", she arched her back, gasping, drool oozing out the side of her mouth, "Pleasepleaspleaseeeennnnnghh", she pushed her hips forward, meeting Vegeta's every thrust, she was getting tighter, " pleaaaase, my Prince...nnnnghh.", she was obviously close. He would answer her pleads.
He grasped her hips, fingers digging into her skin, and slammed himself inside her, fucking her roughly until she suddenly moaned throaty and deep. He felt her pulse her orgasm around him, milking his cock into his own throbbing release.
He collapsed onto his forearms, his brow just hovering over 3347's sensory-band. The Prince's body was humming pleasantly, and he felt a sense of satisfaction he never felt before.
Vegeta couldn't remember what he was so worried about, and he supposed it didn't matter.
He had made the right decision in the end.
Bulma couldn't remember where she was.
The sensory-band around her head provided a silence and darkness so endless that she was only acutely aware of her body. She could still feel her orgasm hitting her in gentle waves, the pleasure pulsing from her tender pussy up to the tippy top of her head.
She was only vaguely aware of the bed beneath her dipping down, sheets shifting and caressing her skin, the beds slight bounce as someone moved to get up.
No doubt, her Prince was putting his clothes back on, and was making to leave.
In her minds eye, she could see him pulling the gloves back on, shifting what she thought to be armor back in place, she could see him standing up, his back facing her. She imagined him there, standing defiantly, confidently, and finally, he was forever ingrained in her imagination as her new fantasy. Her dark rough Prince.
She blindly sat up. She meant to say something to him, a plea to stay, a request for him to at least visit her again, or even a heartfelt thanks for the great fuck, but a very undignified croak came out from her throat instead. Bulma felt the heat of a blush on her cheeks. All that screaming and moaning had worked her throat raw.
The one time she really, really, really had to say something, and she fucking lost her voice.
The irony was not lost to her.
She felt a hand cup her cheek, and lips (very soft lips, she noted) press against her cheek. She felt the mouth talk against her skin, their message lost to the sensory-band.
And then...nothing.
She was sure, after a time, that the door and finally shut. She was alone.
And she felt...cheated.
Everything had fallen into place, her fantasy was almost perfectly fulfilled, except...her Prince was a fucking moron. Anger was bubbling inside her. Surely he could see the gigantic fucking band wrapped around her fucking head?!
He must be a sadistic asshole, leaving her to forever wonder what the fuck he said.
She screamed in frustration, but only felt a pitiful and painful croak come out.
Well, at least she couldnt talk herself into anymore trouble.
The sun finally peaked up from beyond the horizon of Planet Frieza 1307.
In a spectacular twist of events, Radditz was the first to touch down near the space pods. He stumbled towards the pods, bracing himself against the cool metal surface of one.
He decided, after a long inner debate, to wait outside for the rest of his comrades instead of slipping into the comfort of his pod. This was the first time Vegeta wasn't waiting for him, and he wasn't exactly sure what he was supposed to do in this kind of a situation. He wasn't about to get comfy in the pod, only to get dragged out and beat for not following "proper Saiyan protocol".
After some time, Vegeta was the second to return, landing gracefully on the ground. Radditz noticed the prince looked more relaxed than normal. He decided to attempt a conversation.
" I have...so many regrets.", Radditz groaned, " I think I misjudged that thorax...".
Radditz turned his arms, " ...at least the pinchers didn't do much damage..the cuts are already healing."
Vegeta didn't mutter a word. Not surprising.
" Soooooo...how was 3347?", he started again," Was that her shrieking I heard bouncing off the walls of the whore house!?", he wiggled his eyebrows at the prince.
"...hnn."
So it was 3347.
" ALRIGHT VEGETA, YEAH. She sounded WILD. Did you remove the gag!? Ohhhh man I bet you regretted that, who knew she would be such a loud mouth! Lemme guess, you were going to replace her ball-gag with some balls of your-", he felt the collision of the Princes fist, hard and unforgiving, and then felt the gritty dust of the ground under his face.
Radditz groaned in agony. He heard the Prince silently get into his pod, leaving Radditz on the ground, cursing his big mouth.
Hey! Just wanna take a second to thank you for reading this fanfic. I know there are hundreds of fics out there, and it really means something to me that you took the time to read this one in its entireity (at least I hope!)
This is actually my first fanfic, so it would really mean a lot if you could leave a review and some constructive criticism. I'm particularly interested in any feedback regarding the flow of the story, as I personally felt at times it may have come across a bit choppy. Also grammar. I'm really bad at grammar, please help me ;_;
I originally wrote this as a one-shot, but as I was editting this I came up with a pretty solid path to continue this story on, so if there is good amount of interest I might move foreward with this! If not, feel free to follow me, I have a lot of other stories I want to write (almost exclusively of vegXbul) that I will eventually post up on here.
Again, thank you so so SO much for you time!