I don't own DBZ.
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They must have walked three miles worth of hallways before they came to a stop at a huge metal door. The man holding her nodded at his companion, and he proceeded by punching a code into a small box near the side of the door. Bulma cranked her head around to try and get a glimpse at which symbols he was punching in, but she could barely see around the huge man and his fat head. She whispered, "Hey, what the hell is the yard?"
The man holding her chuckled, "It's a place where all of Freeza's collection are allowed to mingle." He glanced at her, looking her up and down. "And if I were you, I would be very careful."
The man typing in the code 'hmfped' and grumbled, "I think with a kick like that she'll be just fine, with or without her powers." Finished, he stepped back and allowed the door to slide open. He waited, while Bulma's carrier continued through the threshold.
Laughing freely, he said, "You're just sour because she caught you off guard!" Then without much warning, he tossed Bulma down to the ground, and she landed flat on her ass.
"Ow!" She jumped up as quickly as fell, and was about to give them a piece of her mind, but the door slid shut without so much as another word from either of them. Growling, she turned around while dusting off her bum. The 'yard' was huge, around the size of a football stadium, the place strangely enough reminded her of a prison. There were tables off to the side where people all shapes and sizes stood, sat, and talked. Groups of others stood in random spots talking in hushed tones about something that probably wasn't legal. Everyone donned an orange suit with their ID number stitched where their breast pocket would be. She quickly realized that she seemed to be the only female here, and they were all staring. Oh, goody.
As soon as the door slid open all the captives in the yard had turned to see the new recruit. Word had gotten out about a little blue-haired bitch, and what she had done in the labs. Things that had made even some of the most gruesome men raise their eyebrows. Some men didn't believe it, and some just enjoyed the thought of fresh meat. And it was first come, first serve.
Almost immediately after Bulma arrived, a scrawny man with several deep vertical scars that ran from his right eyebrow, over his right eye, and all the way down to the middle of his neck, jumped up from his seat on the nearest table. Lust clearly shone through his eyes, or at least the eye that wasn't completely white. He seemed to be oblivious of her current appearance. Blood must be a turn-on for him?
Bulma moved to face him head on, ready to defend herself. She assumed he had a special power of some sort. Obviously he was of some value if he is in Freeza's collection. She could tell from his appearance that physically he probably wasn't much stronger then her, but then that just opened a whole new set of doors. If he didn't need to be very strong, then he must have a very effective power to protect himself.
Spud, licked his lips while his eyes racked up and down her body, if no one else was brave enough to try and claim her then fine. More for him. He grinned from ear to ear, giving her a good view of his brown rotting teeth, before disappearing into thin air.
Before Bulma could even understand what just happened, she felt herself being slammed up against the door behind her. Her head snapped back and made a sickening crack against the metal, and her arms were pinned above her head with one of his bony hands. While his other began ripping her jacket off at an alarming speed, so fast she could barely see his damn arm. Shocked and dizzy, she let out a growl of aggravation while she tried to knee him where the sun don't shine, but his hand beat her to it and held her knee down. "Ah, ah, ah, be nice while I have my fun," he chuckled. Her lip curled in anger, and she narrowed her eyes as she began to concentrate. Happy when she realized Freeza kept his promise, and she was allowed to enter his mind.
With no idea of what he got himself into, Spud continued to chuckle when it looked liked she had given up. This is too easy, he thought. Then, out of the blue, he suddenly began to feel a prickly sensation up his arm. Letting go of the last bits of jacket left on the blue bitch, he glanced down at his arm. Thousands of bugs, black bugs with red eyes, scurried up his arm! He screeched in horror, and immediately tried to scrape them off. But then he looked at his other arm, and it was covered to. They quickly crawled up his arms, and began roaming up and down his body, going underneath his clothes, and into his hair. Lastly, they began to find their way into his ears and mouth. Screaming, he wildly scraped at the bugs trying so desperately to be free of them, but they came in what seemed like a endless cycle.
Forgotten at the door, Bulma casually walked past the crazed man, and into the crowd of men who had gathered to watch the interesting display. She seemed completely unfazed at what she had done. As if being covered in blood and gore wasn't enough, she seemed to show no emotion for what does to her victims. Without a second thought, they parted down the middle as if she were a queen, not wanting to be anywhere near her. Afraid to so much as look at her. She walked past them, and all way to the back of the yard where there was a door with a large sign that read 'SHOWERS'.
Unaware that Spud was actually covered in 'bugs', the men in the yard were left with a man jumping around, scraping and tearing at his own skin, while trying to rip his suit off. As if he had some horrible itch, it was beyond bizarre. He let out, "Help me! Help me!" in high-pitched screams. Pleading to who he thought were his friends to help relieve him from this horrible nightmare.
Thankfully, no one dared to follow Bulma into the showers. After finding a fresh bar of soap and something for her hair, she searched the room until she found a clean towel. Luck was on her side, when she found a drawer filled with navy shorts and gray shirts. She assumed that this is what the men wore underneath their orange suits. Satisfied, she choose the stall farthest away from the door, and eagerly hoped in and began to scrub every inch of her body. Then after she rinsed, she did it again and again until her skin was bright red. She sniffed, holding back the tears she would not let fall, she would not allow herself to be that weak. She didn't enjoy having people live through their worst nightmares, but she wasn't going to have some nasty fuck rape her either.
She had just begun to wash her long hair, when she heard the swish of the door opening. Cursing the lack of door or curtain for the shower stall, she placed one hand over her pussy and her other arm around her breasts before peering over the shower wall. Nothing. She saw nobody. Someone was trying to be sly, and she will find him and kick him in the teeth! She eyed the towel she had left on the bench about eight feet away. Damn you bench! Oh, this is ridiculous! Growling, she yelled out, "HEY! Who ever the fuck thought they could catch a glimpse of this hot mess better think twice!"
She heard a muffled snort closer to the front the room and snapped her head in that direction, "Hello? Can't a girl get some privacy?!"
"Not when I have to take a piss. These are the only toilets we're allowed access to, you know." Someone, obviously a man, muttered followed by a quick zip! and flush.
Bulma's eyes connected with another striking pair from across the room, and without breaking the contact, the man opened the stall door, and stepped out. Letting Bulma get a good view of him. He was tall, at least 6'4", physically fit, and she didn't doubt that he could hold his own in a fist fight. Except for his face, every inch of his skin seemed to be covered in tattoos. She couldn't make out much details from far away, but they were very vibrant and bold. Whoever the artist was, was very talented. Even his head, which sported a mohawk, had tattoos on either side of his hair. Which, when Bulma looked closer, wasn't even hair but flames. Or at least, they looked like flames. His skin seemed to be a dull olive color, and his eyes were bright red. She was almost positive on what his power was, but she wasn't interested in chit chat.
Rudely, she spat, "Don't you have someplace to be? I'd really like to finish my shower some time this week."
The red-eyed man smirked, and stuffed his hands in his pockets before saying, "You know, not all of us are dick heads like Spud out there."
Bulma snorted, and noticed that he didn't look like he was going to move anytime soon, so she continued to wash her hair while facing him. Thank ful that the wall shielded her femanine parts. "And what is that supposed to mean?"
Sitting down on a beach about four stalls down from her, he answered, "It means, that some of us actually want to help each other. As in, help each other escape. There's a group of us here that are planning to make our move on the next mission Freeza's sends us on. We've agreed that you'd be a very helpful part of our team. Are you in?"
Glaring at him, Bulma considered what he said for a moment. Of course she wanted to get out of here, and there was no doubt in her mind that she will. The question is when and how. Did she trust this guy? No. She just fucking met him, but sometimes drastic times call for drastic measures.
Bulma cleared her throat, catching the guy's attention. "I prefer to work alone. Oh, and would you mind turning around?"
He furrowed his brow, but did what she asked. While he had his back to her, Bulma quickly ran to the bench to dry herself off and change into her new clothes. Annoyed that they didn't fit right, she looked back up to find that guy staring at her.
"Hey assface, I told you to turn around!" She chucked her bar of soap at him.
It hit him square in the chest, but he didn't even flinch. Ignoring her outburst, he continued to try and persuade her, "You have no idea how Freeza's ships work, or how to get off this planet. You will need others to help you, and my team and I are perfect for the job. We've been here for years, and we know every nook and cranny in this hell hole-"
"That sounds absolutely wonderful, but I'm not just a fucking pretty face who knows how to get under people's skin. I'm a Kami-damned genius, and I'm perfectly capable of operating any ship I come across." Gliding past the flamed-haired hunk, she glanced back at him just before she walked out the door that would lead her back into the yard, "What the hell is your name anyway?"
Shocked by her attitude, he was suprised at what she said. He expected her to practically jump at the opportunity of help. Obviously, this kitten has claws, he thought. He smirked, "Leo"