AN: This story deals with ideologically sensitive subjects such as violence and rape. Please don't read any further if you are uncomfortable with it.
Three attack pods whisked through the depths of space. A young Saiyan prince slept heavily in one, unaware that his companions were whispering about him through their scouters. He had turned the volume down low enough to sleep, and the men knew this.
"Did you see the way he looked at that young thing at the last station we were in, Nappa?"
"Sure did." He chuckled lewdly. "Give it a couple more years and we can give him his first female."
"Should she be one of the victims?"
"Why not? That's how we all started out, isn't it?"
"Hell yeah. There's nothing like a struggling lady to get the Saiyan blood hot."
"Heh, heh. Damn straight."
"Hey, I haven't seen you with one in awhile, Nappa. Lost your mojo, have you?"
There was a moment of silence.
"Nah...It's just...the last one tried to get away from me."
"Heh. You scared her with all your girth. You're just too damn big, man. Did she get loose?"
"No. I got her. But…"
"But what?"
"I...kind of...killed her."
"Oh, who cares? We were purging Nekron anyway. The only thing useful there was the oil. Though I guess she could have been used for one of the mining slaves. But...eh. The females always die off too fast when put to hard work anyway. Doesn't really matter."
Nappa was silent on the other end again.
"Yeah…" He said. "Maybe…"
"What?"
"Maybe we should get Vegeta a real girl."
"Aren't they all real?"
"I just mean...he's a prince. Maybe his first time oughta be with someone nice. Who really wants him."
"Ha! Who would want that shrimp!"
"Careful, Raditz." Nappa growled softly. "He's your prince too."
"Yeah, alright. So what, like, some foreign princess or something?"
"Doesn't have to be a princess. Maybe...someone we can pay for."
"A whore? Do you really think he'll go for a whore?"
"Why not? He won't have to chase her. She'll come to him, even though he's small and looks much younger than he is. He'll know what to do with her. He gives orders real well. Has since he was old enough to talk."
"Heh. That's true. But I think he'd be insulted that we'd have to purchase her. Maybe we can make it a setup. Get her to act like it was her idea… We'll tell her he's a prince. Girls love that shit."
"Eh, maybe. Won't be for a while though. He's still too young…"
"How old is the little brat now, anyway?"
Nappa growled again.
"He's eleven. Twelve in a couple of cycles."
"Damn. I keep forgetting he's that old. He always looks like a seven-year-old to me. When's the last time he's even had a growth spurt?"
"Heh, heh. Well, I wouldn't call them spurts. But he's grown a couple of inches in the last year, though."
"Let's hope he grows a few more inches in his pants, or the girls will never want him." Raditz laughed. "And his voice still makes that wretched high raspy sound. I bet his balls haven't dropped yet."
"Nah, not yet."
They were quiet for a moment.
"Let's hope his volume is down and he's asleep." Nappa whispered guiltily. "He'd kill us if he knew were talking about this stuff."
"Meh, let him try." Raditz countered. "I'm not scared of the twerp." He ignored Nappa's protest. "And anyway, if he was listening, he would have screamed at us by now. Probably would have steered his pod into a collision course with ours too. Burned us up. Ha, ha! The little savage."
The two saiyans continued to whisper, and soon their conversations were off their prince and onto other matters. Vegeta continued to sleep, caught in a blissful dream and completely unaware of their uncouth conversation.
Her hair was jet black and so thick. His small hands ran over it again and again. He shyly looked at her face. Her eyes were almond-shaped and dark. She looked enough like a Saiyan to give him that warm feeling in the pit of his stomach. The feeling traveled down to his waist, and he was a bit startled at it. But the girl smiled. She put her hand on his face, and it was so soft. Like his own. He always kept his gloves on, thinking it was dirty and common to have rough callused hands like that of his comrades. He was a prince. He prefered to have clean hands. While he thought of that, the girl's own hands were suddenly tugging off his gloves. He tried to protest, but he was curious to see how this would go. When it was removed, the sudden skin on skin contact of their palms burned through him. He felt something strange happen to his groin. It ached, but in a way that felt good. He suddenly wanted more. His small hand reached carefully up to her, and she smiled, guiding it toward her breast. He shuddered as he cupped the warm naked mound. He could feel her heartbeat quicken, and the idea excited him. No one had ever wanted him before. It was intoxicating. Before he knew it, his fly was unzipped, his manhood out in the open. He startled at how big it looked now that it was aroused. The young woman cooed a foreign language to him softly as she wrapped her hand around it. She began to pull up and down. He gasped and shuddered. It felt so good; he was almost afraid it wasn't allowed. But he'd seen Nappa and Raditz with women at the drinking hubs. That one Raditz had the other day had gotten down on her knees, right there in public and put her mouth on… As he thought of it, the girl, his girl, did the same thing. She smiled at him again, then babbled something else in her strange tongue. It sounded like a question. Her face was next to his manhood. It didn't take a genius to figure it out. He nodded slowly. She bent her head, and he grabbed thick tufts of her shiny dark hair into his fists. Her breath tickled him. He could feel her mouth getting closer…
An explosion. He was startled awake. His black eyes flicked around the cramped space of his pod, looking for an attacker. Hadn't there been some sort of upheaval? He looked at the glass panel straight ahead of him. Nothing but stars. He listened to the voices on his scouter. Nappa and Raditz whispered about some gambling game they were obsessed with. He ignored them, realizing that he was sweating and panting a bit. He swept at his forehead with his gloved fist. When he shifted a bit in his seat, he realized that his spandex was cold and clinging to his groin.
"The hell?" He whispered. He pulled off his scouter, not remembering if the audio was on or not. His glove came off next, and he patted the area with alarm. Oh god… He thought. I've wet myself. How is this even possible? I've never done this, not since I was a baby. His horror grew when he realized that they would be landing soon. The visuals on the travel screen predicted the next station to be only twenty minutes away. He would have to change his uniform. But how in the hell was he going to do that in his pod? Sure, he was small, but… Well, he would have to try. There was absolutely no way in hell's infernal flames he would let those two idiots see him like this.
He punched the access panel open and withdrew his spare set of blue spandex. With much effort and a healthy amount of cursing, he managed to extract the armor from his chest and bring it up over his head. He cursed at the volume and thickness of his hair that he was usually so proud of. It did not serve him well in moments like this. Finally he got it off and shoved it as far over to the side as he could. The shoulder pads on it still poked him as he attempted to wriggle out of his wet uniform.
"Damn it!" He swore. "By all the supernovas...I swear! If I am not assigned to *ugh* kill at least ten people today… I'm going to *egh* do it myself! I can't believe this is happening to me!"
Ten minutes later he was settled in his clean uniform. He decided to put on his armor when they landed, to hell with the questions. He'd just tell Nappa that he couldn't sleep comfortably in it. It was a bold lie, considering he had done so all his life, but he really wasn't in the mood to wrestle with the damned thing right now.
He sat there, waiting for their destination. As soon as they landed, he would arrange to see a doctor. He wasn't sure what was wrong with him, but pissing himself didn't seem like a good sign. And he wasn't even sure it was urine. While he was wriggling out of it earlier, he'd noticed it smelled different. Almost salty. For a split second, he'd panicked, thinking it was blood. But the fluid was clear. And only between his legs. He was baffled. Hopefully the doctor could straighten things out for him.
He'd tell Nappa and Raditz that he was going to train. That sort of thing didn't interest them. Whenever they reached a station, the two morons always hit the bar or a gambling area first. Then they'd eat until their stomachs nearly burst...and then they would dally around with the women. The idea still disgusted him, but he thought of that black haired beauty from before. His gut twinged. What was her name? Talia? Tavia? Didn't matter. He'd never see her again. But she had provided some good dream material, that was for damn sure.
