DISCLAIMER: I don't own Dragon Ball Z

Chapter 2: Somewhat Damaged

Bulma was aware of very little after passing out again on the Slave ship; both her mind and body seemed to almost need to block out what was going on around her. It was too much to think about and there was too much pain for her to feel. When she did wake up briefly, her thoughts were confused and her mind was clouded with images and visions of the horrors that had enveloped the Earth since they had arrived.

When the Saiyan Empire had attacked and conquered Earth, they had destroyed everything about humanity and the Earth that made their world special. The saiyans had little interest in preserving culture, their focus was on stripping the natural resources of the planet and on using the native population for slavery. They had killed millions of people and kidnapped millions more, forcing them to work as slaves on distant planets. Their methods of subjugating the people of Earth had left people too terrified to speak up and fight for themselves; why fight when that would only lead the death or slavery?

The people on earth had surrendered quickly after the Saiyan Empire had made it clear that rebellions would not be tolerated. Any resistance was dealt with quickly and with terrifying force and violence. They used barbaric public executions to make an example of any humans who refused to step in line and follow their rules, and it had worked. People were terrified and the resistance was all but stamped out; on the surface at least. There were some people, like Bulma, who had met secretly and studied the saiyan technology while waiting for their chance to strike.

And now I'll never get that chance...

Since the invasion everything that the Earth had produced, including human slaves, was confiscated and sent to the saiyan homework as a 'tithe' to the saiyans powerful overlord; King Vegeta. It was little wonder that the people of Earth were so demoralised when it was a struggle with clothe yourself and find enough to eat. The human race had been reduced to a race of slaves, ruled over by the saiyans who were content to live off the planet until every natural and manmade resource was consumed.

The Earth had truly been brought to its knees and humbled before the might of the saiyans. Schools and universities were shut and children born to human parents were taught only the history of the saiyan race, although in secrecy some parents continued to illegally teach the history of the Earth. Not many though, as parents who were suspected of this illegal teaching were accused of trying to raise 'rebellions' and had their children forcibly taken from them and sold into slavery – guilty or not.

Not all humans suffered; the bottoms dwellers of society flourished with many illegal trades - as often happened in wartime. Gangs appeared of rogue humans who regularly betrayed their race and sold out to the alien race, forming allegiances with the saiyans. These humans became the scourge of society; they were drug dealers, crime lords or even worse - slave traders.

It was these humans, and not the saiyans themselves, that were responsible for most of the illicit whore houses and for the illegal kidnappings of the men and women who would be sold into this life. They ran the gambling rings, the money laundering and the drug trade. These men, who had once been lowly thugs and back street drug dealers, had flourished and lived comfortable lives as they fed off the tastes and addictions of their new leaders.

Eventually, tired of wallowing in the past, Bulma opened her eyes and forced herself to try and sit up so she could take in her surroundings. But it was too much. Her head swam as she tried to drag herself into consciousness, and she felt her stomach roll alarmingly as she tried to move and felt pain lance through her. Her mouth tasted like cardboard, her eyes felt gritty and dry and her eyelids felt as though they were made of sandpaper. Was she sick? How long had she been sleeping? Now that she thought about it, catching hold of consciousness like a drowning swimming, her body was hot and sweaty and a feverish dull ache filled her head.

Bulma was distantly aware of voices talking anxiously over her in another language - or what seemed another language. For all she knew they could have been talking in English and she would have never heard them; their voices poured over her like water, washing past her like liquid as gentle hands probed her and explored her wounds. The voices were hushed and sounded increasingly worried as time dragged by, but the tone in them was both sweet and reassuring, as though they wanted her to know she would be okay.

The blue haired captive moaned gently as she slowly fought free of the imprisoning darkness of her feverish sleep and opened her eyes to see blurred shapes above her. It was impossible to see details from her unfocused eyes and Bulma allowed her eyelids to close again, for the time being content to simply float in and out of consciousness; detached from her body and the unrelenting throbbing pain she could feel.

It was obviously to her, even in her sickly state, that she was going to be sold off into slavery. She could remember, now that she was awake properly, that she'd been taken by slave traders and from the sharp pain between her legs, Bulma knew they had raped her, although she couldn't remember it. In some corner of her mind, she knew that she would either end up as a whore to one of the violent and brutish saiyans, or she would find herself on one of the icy mining moons where she'd live a pitiful life mining for rare metals before dying in the appalling conditions.

I'm going to die soon either way, she thought bleakly.

Bulma managed to pry a gritty eye open and realised with a distant kind of amazement that the two people standing over here weren't human at all, but neither were they saiyan. They spoke to each other in a liquid language that ran like water over their tongues Bulma opened her other eye and stared up at them complacently while they examined her. They held her injured hand in theirs and their tone was apprehensive as they poked and jabbed at the purple and green bruising which surrounded the garish hole that the knife had punctured into her hand.

Due to the soreness of her body Bulma guessed that that wasn't the only injury she had, the constantly aching of her lower regions made it fairly obvious that the two slave traders had most likely had a lot of fun with her body before they had traded it off. No doubt what they had done to her had been appalling and while she knew she'd been raped, she couldn't remember the details. Bulma swallowed and glanced at the blindly white ceiling, unsure whether she was pleased or not with the memory loss.

"Where am I?" Bulma spoke up quietly as she looked at the beings, her voice a hoarse whisper that was barely audible.

Despite her soft voice the two pixie-like beings with their translucent pale blue skin and bright pink hair and eyes appeared to have heard her; but they ignored her. They gently placed her hand down and conferred amongst each other before one of them left the room, moving silently and gracefully, tossing a concerned look at Bulma as it left through a metallic door.

The other being quickly put what looked like a small black gun against her arm; the creature squeezed the trigger and Bulma yelped as the gun deposited something small and hard under her skin. It then put the gun down and picked up a syringe, looking down at her sadly as it took her hand in its and injected a golden liquid into the wound. Bulma tensed for pain, but there was none and as she watched the skin on her hand rippled and closed as if by magic. The bruising still marred her once creamy and perfect skin, but the wound was completely closed and even in her delusional and confused state Bulma felt slightly in awe of these gentle creatures that were healing her.

Maybe the saiyans weren't so bad after all…

There was movement to the left as the being that had left the room reappeared with a glowering saiyan in its wake who hissed something at the being who had healed Bulma's hand before he looked appraisingly at Bulma. His eyes roved down her body in an accessing way, completely unswayed by her nakedness as he took note of her injuries and what the being had done to heal her. He seemed bored, as though this part of his job was menial and uninteresting. Which, Bulma supposed, it was if he was a saiyan slave trader.

"They say you are awake and can speak." The saiyan growled bluntly as he shooed the beings out of the room, snapping something at them threateningly before turning back to Bulma with a nasty scowl. "Do you know what happened to you and where you are?"

Bulma deliberated at what to tell him as she thought over what she could remember, which admitted was not much. She was a free citizen from Earth and had been walking home when two men had grabbed her and essentially beaten her into unconsciousness. Was that the information he wanted? Or did he just want her to confirm that she knew she was a captive and no longer on Earth? Finally with a shrug Bulma worked up enough strength to talk and decided to say everything.

"I was captured by two slave traders who…hurt me." Her voice sounded less hoarse now, but her tone was still weak and scratchy, and her words sounded weak and unconvincing.

Bulma shrugged as the saiyan glowered down at her as though he didn't believe her, unwilling to let herself shrink under his predatory gaze. Although she was struggling to contain her fear she didn't want to show it. The worst this saiyan could do was kill her, and if she was going to become a slave, then death would be a blessing.

"That's all I can remember." She finally looked away as his emotionless black eyes let hers. They were so empty and cruel looking; she had to find a way out of this mess and fast!

"Well, let me fill you in on the rest." The saiyan reached down and took her hand in his as he checked out the wound for himself, then let her arm fall back to the bed, apparently satisfied with what he saw. "Those idiots who captured you decided to fuck you half to death. They brought you in barely conscious and with some very nasty injuries which we patched up. You were in and out of consciousness and it was obvious that you required medical attention immediately, we you were brought here to a treatment clinic two hours ago."

"That's a lot of effort for a human." Bulma couldn't believe she'd spoken up, or at the belligerent tone in her voice, but the words had come out before she could stop them.

The saiyan simply chuckled, "You're pretty, young and you have pleasing hair and eyes; a fine investment even if you were somewhat damaged when they brought you in. Now that you're sufficiently healed you will put up for sale and sold as a concubine." His beady black eyes almost sparkled as he saw her draw back from him, her fear apparently what he'd been seeking.

"A…concubine?" Bulma asked in disbelief, fear creeping into her tone. "You're selling me already?" The fear in her voice quickly gave way to anger and she resisted the urge to reach up and punch the saiyan right in his stupid face.

How dare he enjoy this!

"You have been injected with a quick-heal serum which is not available on Earth; you'll be fine soon enough. Your body is almost completely healed already, little whore." The saiyan motioned at her hand and Bulma saw that the bruising that had covered where the hole had been was now gone.

"But…but you're selling me?" Bulma stuttered, wrapping her arms around herself, "You can't! I'm a free citizen!"

"You were a free citizen." The saiyan smiled nastily again and crossed his arms. "Don't worry though; we're a very classy slave-trading centre. We wouldn't have bought you otherwise."

"Classy? Bought me?" Bulma repeated stupidly, glancing up at the saiyan and then quickly looking away again at the amusement in his eyes.

"We bought you from those two humans because of your…potential. Now we will sell you again to whoever can afford to buy you." The saiyan leaned closer and picked up a lock of her hair, running it through his fingers. "Blue hair is treasured among saiyans, so you'll most likely sell fairly easily at a high price as a concubine."

"I don't want to be a concubine!" Bulma protested weakly, her hand beginning to throb again and her head aching. "I shouldn't even be here! I belong on Earth! I'm a free citizen! I have a job, I have a…"

"It's immaterial now. You've already been reported dead and declared a non-person. You belong to us now, little whore." The saiyan eyed her lithe body and smirked to himself as he ran a finger down her arm, feeling the softness of her skin. "Yes, you'll fetch quite a price."

Bulma closed her eyes, despair welling up and sweeping over her. Anything would be better than becoming a saiyans whore, she would have preferred a death sentence in a mining colony then this. Saiyan males weren't known for being gentle considerate lovers and it was a known fact that the saiyan men required a constant supply of human concubines because of the high mortality rate amongst them. They were beasts and they treated their concubines appallingly.

"Now get up! You should have enough energy to walk." The saiyan jerked Bulma's arm as he growled at her irritably. "We have to get you back to the market and get you cleaned up. We have some very important customers arriving tonight and I have a feeling that they'll take an interest in you."

Resentfully, Bulma stood up, promising herself silently that she would find a way to get free one day.

The white cotton and lace dress was indecently short, Bulma was horrified at just how revealing and sluttish it was. But kept her mouth shut, especially after seeing one of the other frightened 'slaves' who had protested being carried off screaming by two rowdy saiyan guards. The girl hadn't come back and one of the other potential concubines had told her that any girls who didn't follow the rules were given to the guards as toys. So Bulma had held her tongue, even though it went against every fibre of her being to do so, she kept quiet and put up with everything they did to her.

Bulma was still forcing herself to endure the seemingly endless primping hours later after being bathed and cleansed and oiled. Two meek looking individuals of the same species who had treated Bulma at the hospital finished fastening her hair up. They had pinned up her long blue tresses on top of her head and had let a few stray tendrils loose to float around her face. She hated it; the hairstyle looked ridiculous on her.

The makeup they had applied before starting her hair was sparse but dramatic and was designed to make her eyes appear as big and blue as possible. Her lips were painted a bright cherry red and her eyes had been outlined in a black dust. That had been all the makeup they had applied. Bulma was fairly certain that the being that had done her makeup had wanted to do more but the saiyan attendant had growled at her to hurry up or be punished and the being had paled and quickly left Bulma alone.

She hated her makeup too; she looked like a painted whore now.

"Get up, whore." The creatures that were fussing with Bulma gasped at one another as a saiyan filled the doorway, a strange circular piece of metal in his hand. "I said rise!"

The saiyan growled again and the beings fled at the sound of his voice. Bulma obediently rose, struggling not to fight as the saiyan attendant grabbed her by the neck and forced her against the wall roughly. For one horrible moment she thought she'd done something wrong and he was about to beat or rape her, but he just held her there and closed the solid metal collar around her neck. Laughing at her frightened expression when he left her go and she sagged against the wall in relief.

"What…what is this?" Bulma gasped and struggled uselessly with the metal ring, tugging at the collar as the metal seemed to spring to life around her neck and pulsed faintly as though it had a life of its own.

"It's a slave collar. Your master can reward you with either pleasure or pain with this device. It is impossible to take off without the master control. Any tampering and it will explode." The saiyan attendant's voice was slightly mocking and he laughed at Bulma's fearful and shocked expression.

"Maybe death would be better than a life of slavery." Bulma mused with a sour expression as she tugged on the collar again but gave up when the saiyan smacked her hands away and gave her a very nasty look.

"Don't be so melodramatic, girl." The saiyan guard held up a control box. "This is the device through which your master can either punish you or reward you." He leered at Bulma and pressed a red button.

Instantly a searing pain ripped through Bulma. It emanated from the collar and tore into every part of her body. It felt as if skin were being stripped from her flesh, as though her blood were boiling. She dropped to her knees and whimpered as she clung to the collar, red hot needles of pain rippling down her body and crippling her. It was horrible. It felt like acid was being poured all over her skin.

"Stop…" Bulma ground her teeth and tried to fight to pain, her body twisting and jerking as the pain tore through her.

"I would not contemplate killing yourself again anytime soon, or you'll be punished severely." The guard laughed as he flipped the red button again, and the pain stopped. "We were warned about your temper from the two humans who brought you in; they claimed you had caused them much trouble."

Bulma panted, not trusting herself to speak as the pain drifted reluctantly from her body, the absence of the pain feeling like bliss. Oh god. If there was no way to get the collar off and whoever bought her could inflict that sort of pain on her, what chance did she had to escape? This was like a nightmare; all windows of escape were rapidly closing before her.

The saiyan guard seemed satisfied with her silence and picked her off the ground, setting her down on rubbery legs and then forcing her to walk out the door. He led her along a glaringly bright white hallway full of doors, each of which boasted a small square plexiglass window through which you could view the occupants of each room; the occupant of course being other concubines – both male and female.

Most of potential concubines that Bulma saw as she peeked through window after window, roamed their rooms with surreal, dreamy expression on their faces as though they were content with their fate and wouldn't have had things any other way. Or as though they were drugged. Others concubines of course were much less calm. Many of them had been strapped down on the bed and were yelling and trying to break free, their faces terrified and etched with strain.

That won't be me! Bulma promised herself silently.

The guard finally stopped by an unmarked door, opened it and marched Bulma through. He growled under his breath as he forced her over to the bed where he closed a manacle around Bulma's wrist and attached the other end to the head of the bed; effective chaining her to her bed and preventing her from roaming her cell. Great. Was she being chained here so prospective buyers could try before they buy?

She'd be damned if she'd let a filthy saiyan touch her without a fight.

"The King and Prince of planet Vegeta are arriving tonight to pick out new royal concubines. It is well known that they both fancy blue hair so if you lucky you may be sold to them. Just try to look pretty and stop frowning." The guard laughed noisily and left the room without a backward glance, slamming the metal door with a thud and locking it behind him.

Bulma waited until she heard his footsteps fade away and then she sank down onto the bed and swallowed hair. One hand lifted and gripped the slave collar tightly, the metal warm and alive against her neck. Wearily and full of fear she made herself lie down on the bed and stare up at the unfamiliar ceiling, desperately trying to think of any way she could get out of this situation. It didn't matter who bought her – Royal saiyans or low level soldiers – they were all as bad as each other.

If she didn't find a way out of this situation she was as good as dead.

A/N –I know this chapter is a little typical of the 'Bulma-is-a-slave' fics but hey, you have to dress her in something, right? Hope you enjoyed it – the next chapter is on it's way! Please review :)