Author's Note: Thanks to everyone who reviewed my crappy story; I adore you all!
- Binded -
Bulma awoke light-headed and dizzy, lying on a bed. She didn't remember having that dream--the one with the dark eyes--for the first time in years, which kind of unnerved her. Maybe she was dreaming now, and her parents' death was only a nightmare, maybe sh--her ankles began to ache. It was this pain that let her know this wasn't a dream.
She looked down towards her ankles where the sharp jolts were happening, and there she seen two yellow anklet-looking things on her, only... they looked like they were edbedded into her skin like some sort of freaky tattoo. They were glowing, and getting brighter and brighter. And the brighter they became, the more her ankles hurt.
She cried out in pain, not being able to take it anymore.
Then she heard someone lightly laugh--a sadistic, cruel laugh. She looked to her right where it had come from to see who it was that had the nerve to laugh at her misfortune.
It was the prince, standing there in all his dark glory, his eyes tearing through her.
At this, she realized she didn't have on any clothes! She was smooth, butt naked. She made an attempt to cover her body, but her ankles suddenly bagan to burn unconrollably. Instead of protecting herself from the wicked gaze of that monster of a Saiyajin, she ended up grabbing her ankles, trying to make the pain stop.
"Lie down and it will stop." The Saiyajin no Ouji said to her gruffly, a twisted smirk on his face.
Though that half-smile pissed her off beyond compare, she did as she was told, with tears in her eyes.
He walked over to her slowly, stopping at the edge of the bed, looking down at her completely exposed body.
He let one of his hands go down to her stomach, rubbing it softly, moving down to her nether hairs about to enter her.
"No, fuck no!" She scrame sitting up quickly, pushing his hand away. "Leave me the fuck alone, you fucking monkey!"
He glared at her, angry at first, but then that evil smrik came back to him. Her ankles began to burn. She scrame in agony. How the fuck was he doing that!?
"Now, lie down." He stated simply.
Not wanting to feel her ankles tense and ache like that any more, she complied.
He took off his armor quickly, tossing it to the side, followed by the rest of his clothing. He stood there before her, utterly nude. As much as she would hate to admit it, she blushed. She had never really seen a naked man before... let alone a naked Saiyajin.
He placed himself on top of her, looking in her blue pools of sorrow, but glanced away quickly. The emotions running wild in her were enough to make him sick, so he did the only thing he knew to do--he kissed her.
The kiss wasn't like anything she had ever expected. It wasn't gentle and romantic, but rough and painful. It felt as if he wanted to eat her alive. She struggled to break free, only to feel her ankle's pain rise again, but this time she didn't care. This handsome, dark, sexy fuck--I mean--this fuck was about to rape her! She struggled even more, only to feel his body press down on her harder, making at least two of her ribs snap. She flinched in the pain that he didn't seem to notice.
His hands began to roam her body savagely, making her sure there were going to be bruises where he had touched her. Fuck, she'd be surprised if her mouth wasn't bruised.
Trying to gasp for breath as he continued to suck her mouth and tongue viciously, she felt him go into her, her barrier breaking. His size was too much... it was hurting her. He didn't care. He didn't wait to see if she could handle what was going on, instead, he began to pump into her with sharp, angry thrusts. Blood was trailing out of her, leaking down on both of them. He didn't seem to mind. He was beating her, clawing her as he kept up his pace.
All Bulma could do was scream, but she really couldn't do that. His mouth was over hers, taking her in. She was about to break... not knowing how long she could take this. This would surely be her death..
He didn't stop until the next morning when the sun was almost to the center of the sky.
---------------
The blue-haired maden awoke with no evil bastard of a prince in her room, but extremely sore. Every breath she took was pure agony. Even the lift of her eyelid caused her to ache.
She had heard it would hurt her first time from her mother, but she didn't think it was supposed to have hurt that bad. Her mother has also told her that the process usually lasted about fourty minutes with her father. She haf gone all night, without breaks, without any pleasure, and with the most gorgeous...she stopped thinking about it.
It was him who had hurt her! Looks didn't mean everything. He may have been the most beautiful creature she had ever seen, but it was him who had done this to her. Looks were only skin deep.
She then tried to think of her parents, but they weren't much of a comforting thought, either. They had sold her out. It was their fault she was on the verge of death! Then she realized they were dead... she realized how extremely wrong it was to hate the dead--especially her own parents!
So here she was, alone on a bed covered in blood and sweat without any comforting thoughts. What was going to happen to her? Was the prince going to kill her now that he had had his feel? She almost wished that he would. She would accept death with open arms..
Doing the only thing that was close to the deathly goal she so craved, she closed her eyes to sleep..
--------
He was kissing her viciously, looking into her cool depths. Those dark eyes! Those touches! This pain.. She knew who it was haunting her dreams. She knew who it was with that sinister, metallic gaze.. She knew.
Her eyes shot open, leaving the dream..
-------
Vegeta had been in the training room, beating the fuck out of every Saiyajin who challenged him when he father entered, followed by his weak lackey, Yamcha.
"Well, boy?" The king looked at him. "I expect to see you living up to The Legend."
"Legend? I don't need a wench for that, old man. But she was a nice fuck. I think I might keep her around for another one." Smirking now, he met his father's eyes.
He was expecting his father to say something more--to scold him. He wanted him to desperately. He was ready to fight the old man, to kill him, and to make himself king. But his father merely turned around and left.
Vegeta kept a masked face, concealing his shock.
Yamcha didn't seem to notice the prince's amazement. "When you get tired of her, toss 'er my way."
Vegeta growled. No one touched what was his, especially weaklings like this joke of a Saiyajin.
With that, the lesser warrior stalked out of the room. There was something someone couldn't help but notice about him, something fishy.. He had no pride, and he had no true loyalty.
-------
Quietly, he entered his bedroom. Looking over to his bed, he seen his little prize there under the covers. Her chest moving up and down with every breath she took, ragged and uneasy.
He smirked, remembering their time together. She had truly beed afraid. He lived for fear, he loved it, and she had shown so much.
Just thinking about it made him want to take her again, to feel her around him, breathing in her scent and her despair.
He walked over to where she lay and looked down at her. She must have noticed him, because her eyes opened and she saw him.
"Hello, little one.." He said, reaching down to touch her face and move the wet strands of hair out of her face.
"...please, no.." She whispered.
This night was going to be another one neither of them would forget any time soon.
- Binded -
Bulma awoke light-headed and dizzy, lying on a bed. She didn't remember having that dream--the one with the dark eyes--for the first time in years, which kind of unnerved her. Maybe she was dreaming now, and her parents' death was only a nightmare, maybe sh--her ankles began to ache. It was this pain that let her know this wasn't a dream.
She looked down towards her ankles where the sharp jolts were happening, and there she seen two yellow anklet-looking things on her, only... they looked like they were edbedded into her skin like some sort of freaky tattoo. They were glowing, and getting brighter and brighter. And the brighter they became, the more her ankles hurt.
She cried out in pain, not being able to take it anymore.
Then she heard someone lightly laugh--a sadistic, cruel laugh. She looked to her right where it had come from to see who it was that had the nerve to laugh at her misfortune.
It was the prince, standing there in all his dark glory, his eyes tearing through her.
At this, she realized she didn't have on any clothes! She was smooth, butt naked. She made an attempt to cover her body, but her ankles suddenly bagan to burn unconrollably. Instead of protecting herself from the wicked gaze of that monster of a Saiyajin, she ended up grabbing her ankles, trying to make the pain stop.
"Lie down and it will stop." The Saiyajin no Ouji said to her gruffly, a twisted smirk on his face.
Though that half-smile pissed her off beyond compare, she did as she was told, with tears in her eyes.
He walked over to her slowly, stopping at the edge of the bed, looking down at her completely exposed body.
He let one of his hands go down to her stomach, rubbing it softly, moving down to her nether hairs about to enter her.
"No, fuck no!" She scrame sitting up quickly, pushing his hand away. "Leave me the fuck alone, you fucking monkey!"
He glared at her, angry at first, but then that evil smrik came back to him. Her ankles began to burn. She scrame in agony. How the fuck was he doing that!?
"Now, lie down." He stated simply.
Not wanting to feel her ankles tense and ache like that any more, she complied.
He took off his armor quickly, tossing it to the side, followed by the rest of his clothing. He stood there before her, utterly nude. As much as she would hate to admit it, she blushed. She had never really seen a naked man before... let alone a naked Saiyajin.
He placed himself on top of her, looking in her blue pools of sorrow, but glanced away quickly. The emotions running wild in her were enough to make him sick, so he did the only thing he knew to do--he kissed her.
The kiss wasn't like anything she had ever expected. It wasn't gentle and romantic, but rough and painful. It felt as if he wanted to eat her alive. She struggled to break free, only to feel her ankle's pain rise again, but this time she didn't care. This handsome, dark, sexy fuck--I mean--this fuck was about to rape her! She struggled even more, only to feel his body press down on her harder, making at least two of her ribs snap. She flinched in the pain that he didn't seem to notice.
His hands began to roam her body savagely, making her sure there were going to be bruises where he had touched her. Fuck, she'd be surprised if her mouth wasn't bruised.
Trying to gasp for breath as he continued to suck her mouth and tongue viciously, she felt him go into her, her barrier breaking. His size was too much... it was hurting her. He didn't care. He didn't wait to see if she could handle what was going on, instead, he began to pump into her with sharp, angry thrusts. Blood was trailing out of her, leaking down on both of them. He didn't seem to mind. He was beating her, clawing her as he kept up his pace.
All Bulma could do was scream, but she really couldn't do that. His mouth was over hers, taking her in. She was about to break... not knowing how long she could take this. This would surely be her death..
He didn't stop until the next morning when the sun was almost to the center of the sky.
---------------
The blue-haired maden awoke with no evil bastard of a prince in her room, but extremely sore. Every breath she took was pure agony. Even the lift of her eyelid caused her to ache.
She had heard it would hurt her first time from her mother, but she didn't think it was supposed to have hurt that bad. Her mother has also told her that the process usually lasted about fourty minutes with her father. She haf gone all night, without breaks, without any pleasure, and with the most gorgeous...she stopped thinking about it.
It was him who had hurt her! Looks didn't mean everything. He may have been the most beautiful creature she had ever seen, but it was him who had done this to her. Looks were only skin deep.
She then tried to think of her parents, but they weren't much of a comforting thought, either. They had sold her out. It was their fault she was on the verge of death! Then she realized they were dead... she realized how extremely wrong it was to hate the dead--especially her own parents!
So here she was, alone on a bed covered in blood and sweat without any comforting thoughts. What was going to happen to her? Was the prince going to kill her now that he had had his feel? She almost wished that he would. She would accept death with open arms..
Doing the only thing that was close to the deathly goal she so craved, she closed her eyes to sleep..
--------
He was kissing her viciously, looking into her cool depths. Those dark eyes! Those touches! This pain.. She knew who it was haunting her dreams. She knew who it was with that sinister, metallic gaze.. She knew.
Her eyes shot open, leaving the dream..
-------
Vegeta had been in the training room, beating the fuck out of every Saiyajin who challenged him when he father entered, followed by his weak lackey, Yamcha.
"Well, boy?" The king looked at him. "I expect to see you living up to The Legend."
"Legend? I don't need a wench for that, old man. But she was a nice fuck. I think I might keep her around for another one." Smirking now, he met his father's eyes.
He was expecting his father to say something more--to scold him. He wanted him to desperately. He was ready to fight the old man, to kill him, and to make himself king. But his father merely turned around and left.
Vegeta kept a masked face, concealing his shock.
Yamcha didn't seem to notice the prince's amazement. "When you get tired of her, toss 'er my way."
Vegeta growled. No one touched what was his, especially weaklings like this joke of a Saiyajin.
With that, the lesser warrior stalked out of the room. There was something someone couldn't help but notice about him, something fishy.. He had no pride, and he had no true loyalty.
-------
Quietly, he entered his bedroom. Looking over to his bed, he seen his little prize there under the covers. Her chest moving up and down with every breath she took, ragged and uneasy.
He smirked, remembering their time together. She had truly beed afraid. He lived for fear, he loved it, and she had shown so much.
Just thinking about it made him want to take her again, to feel her around him, breathing in her scent and her despair.
He walked over to where she lay and looked down at her. She must have noticed him, because her eyes opened and she saw him.
"Hello, little one.." He said, reaching down to touch her face and move the wet strands of hair out of her face.
"...please, no.." She whispered.
This night was going to be another one neither of them would forget any time soon.
