Chapter Four
The Lion's Purr

Five weeks passed since Bulma saw Vegeta. And for that, she was thankful. Before, they only saw each other sparingly. He had no qualms about using other women in his bed in lieu of her. It was for the better. Their couplings were explosive and encompassing, something akin to a delicacy.

Seeing him every day, sharing a bed with him every day, brought up feelings that lingered underneath the foundation she built. The more time she spent with him, the gentler he became, and the more she felt like the feelings she had for him passed from hate to something else. It was easy to hate him when he wasn't there and they never spoke. It was hard to hate him when their intense couplings weathered walls and exposed their deepest fears.

Worse, days apart left her with a void of depression she struggled to keep out. Focusing on training only quelled the darkness temporarily. The only way she would ever achieve peace was to leave. Five weeks learned little in practical skills, but she caught on quickly enough, and perhaps by time they met Freiza in the north she may have learned enough to be able to secure an apprenticeship elsewhere.

Knocks on her window startled her thoughts into hiding. She opened it and greeted Goku with a smile. "Good evening."

He held up a bowl of the night's stew. She took it and set it beside her. She glanced around him, but saw no others with him. "Prince Vegeta will not be seeing you tonight," he said, reading her thoughts.

Her heart wrenched in disappointment. "Give him my regards," she replied, shutting the window without waiting for his response. She hated herself for feeling rejected, but every night Goku confirmed Vegeta's absence her heart ached. I need to leave soon, she told herself, yet the void suffocated any inkling of desire to leave. She was stuck in a glorious conundrum of her own choosing.

She ate the soup in silence and quickly fell asleep. The fatigue of studying from sunrise to sunset kept her night owl tendencies at bay.

The carriage shook. Bulma groaned and looked out the window. "A town?" She gasped and opened the door to take a better look.

The lights of lanterns peppered the road ahead like fireflies. She stepped outside and half ran ahead. It wasn't a large town by any means, but it was still civilization. Maybe I can sneak away here! She went back to the carriage and began going through her things, making mental notes of what she could conceivably wear and carry at all times. Too much gold on her wrists and she ended up a target for thieves. Thankfully, the leather satchel she carried her medical supplies in provided ample nooks and crannies to hide rings or earrings. She could hide bracelets and necklaces within the cotton balls and linen wraps as well.

She tucked Vegeta's dagger into the side of her belt. It would fetch a pretty penny or work in a pinch for self-defense. She crossed her legs and waited patiently for someone to call upon her. A town on a major road must have an inn, and if there was an inn, there was a bed, and where there's a bed there would be an Vegeta calling her to it.

Crisp air flowed into the cabin. "Awake?" Goku greeted.

"Yes," she replied.

"Good. Looks like we get a real bed tonight. You'll be sharing with Vegeta, of course."

She nodded. "Of course."

The inn was a ways up the road, but with each step the load in her heart grew lighter. By this time tomorrow she could be free. Just one more night with Vegeta, one last night together. She didn't need to kill him. The scenery passed in a dark blur until Goku stopped in front a door.

"This is where you're staying. Vegeta should be inside."

She nodded and opened the door. Vegeta stood at the foot of the bed, naked and visibly erect. She sucked in a breath. The door shut behind her. The edge of the bed caught her eye. Tied around the two posts were ropes. A tingling heat coursed through her body. She

He held up his hand, signaling her to move. Like a spell, she put one foot in front of the other, trudging to him. His dark eyes stared at her, arresting all her thoughts. When his rough fingertips grazed the top of her chest, she let out a breathy moan. His fingertips traced the curve of her breasts, the length of her arms, the swell of her belly. It was as though he brought feeling back into the skin he touched. She trembled as those fingers fluttered just over her most sensitive spot. He cupped her chin and ran his thumb over her lips. She kissed his thumb. He chuckled and slid the tip of his thumb through her parted lips. She ran her tongue along the edge of his flesh. He pushed his thumb completely inside her mouth and she sucked.

He always tasted of spice. Every cell in her craved his salty taste. He pulled out and slid his hand down the opening in her robe, looping his fingers through her belt and tugging it free. The dagger clanged as it hit the floor. He glanced at it, then back at her, lips curling into a smile. He picked it up and held it. She shuddered at the sight. His allure, that dangerous aura, it lit up everything inside her. Her core clenched and throbbed in anticipation. One last night of bliss. No other man could invoke this sort of feelings inside her. No other man had the power, the strength, the ferocity of Vegeta.

He nudged the robe off her shoulders. It crumpled at her feet. She could not find it in her to move. He put his warm hand around her waist and pulled her to the bed. Smooth twine wound around her ankles and calves. She obediently put her hands above her head and waited for him to tie them together. He looped the rope around the posts at the upper corners then wound it around his neck before looping it to her hands. If she tugged it, she choked him at the same time.

She swallowed. The little bit of power he gave her almost intoxicated in excitement. She rolled her hips upwards, brushing his hardness against her inner thigh. Before she could blink, he slapped her outer thigh as punishment. Her body jerked. He half laughed brushed his lips along her jawline. She clenched her inner muscles, trying to relieve the ache inside.

He teased his fingers at her entrance. "Is this what you want?" he asked, voice thick with his own lust. She whimpered. He slid the very tip of his finger inside her and rubbed a tight circle over her clit. She closed her eyes as an electric wave of pleasure coursed through her. As quickly as it started, it stopped. She whimpered and bucked her hips to him again.

The restraints on her calves tightened with her movements. The pressure was almost painful in its tightness, yet with that pain came security of safety. He ran his tongue along her nipple before biting it. She gasped and wrenched her body. He sucked her nipple, nibbling on it, using his tongue to soothe the sting of his bite. She pulled on the ropes, tightening their hold around his neck. He looked up at her with a smirk. She took his dare, moving her arms down to run her fingers through his hair. He leaned up and took a wheezing breath before pushing her arms over her head. He ran his hands down her body and pushed her breasts together before slapping them. The stings long turned to pleasurable sparks. She closed her eyes and waited for him to slap her again, for that explosion of sensation she adored.

The head of his cock pressed against her lips. She opened her mouth and he invaded without ceremony, pushing his thick shaft down her throat. Her throat ached as it stretched to accommodate him. His thick curls pressed against her nose as he forced himself inside repeatedly. Her eyes watered as her lungs burned. She pulled her arms down and gasped his hips, pushing him back. His husky moan dwindled to a rasped guttural rumble. He pulled himself out of her and she gasped for breath.

Just as she took a deep breath, he slapped it out of her. She hung her head as her body trembled from the intensity of the sensations. He pressed her breasts around his shaft and thrust himself forward to her mouth. She pressed her lips closed, glaring at him, angry for his punishment without crime, but he slapped her again, forcing her lips to part, shoving his head into her mouth. She pulled on the ropes as retaliation. He shuddered against her, lips turning upward into a maddened grin.

She let the ropes go slack. He cupped her chin and kissed her, sloppily tangling his tongue with hers. She moaned into his mouth, trying to devour him in her kiss. This would be the last time she tasted him and she needed to get her fill. Her Vegeta, who molded her into this insane love, who took her to the brink of sanity with pleasure.

He grunted and shifted his weight, laying on top of her and trying to exert his dominance. She wrapped her arms around him, running her hands over the ridges of muscles in his back and shoulders. His breaths became wheezing rasps. His smooth hardness rubbed against her clit. She tried to rock her hips into him and he bit down on her lip. She cried out, a mixture of surprise and painful pleasure.

"Please," she breathed.

He chuckled and stroked her cheek. "As you request."

His words and tone were gentle. Tears formed in her eyes. He trailed kisses down her abdomen. Her stomach knotted up as she realized where his mouth lead. He licked her slit. She cooed and arched into him. He bit her inner thigh.

"Behave," he ordered.

The ropes dug into her skin with each minute movement she made. She was stuck where she was and he knew it. He sucked on her clit and she closed her eyes, struggling to keep still. Her moans became stifled in her throat. His hot tongue slid inside, lapping at her inner folds. "Vegeta," she begged. He grunted a response. Those battle-hardened fingertips stroked her sensitive clit. "I hate you," she squealed.

His body shook as through he laughed.

It wasn't enough. She needed him inside her, relieving that ache from his teasing tongue. She tried to squeeze her legs together around his head, but the ropes restrained her. She hissed as they dug into her sensitive skin. He smirked at her, lazily rubbing her clit in circles. "What is it you want?" he asked, voice ripe with amusement.

"You," she gushed.

"Is that how you speak to your Prince?" he asked, slapping across her breasts.

She bit her bottom lip and let the pleasure subside before speaking. She took deep, heavy breaths. "You," she repeated, cooing as he bitterly punished her by pinching her nipples.

He nibbled on her earlobe, whispering with his husky voice, "You enjoy being punished, don't you?" He pressed two fingers inside her, going just slow enough to drive her mad. "Is that why you disobey me? You enjoy your punishment?"

"Yes," she gasped.

He pinched her clit. She squealed and trembled as hot electricity coursed through her. "Yes, what?" he growled.

His voice sent shivers through her. "Yes, my lord."

"Finish it," he boomed.

"My sun and moon," she replied, voice unsteady as he applied more pressure to her clit. "My only master in this world."

He caressed her cheek and smiled. "Good girl." He rubbed his cock at her entrance. She closed her eyes and prepared for the delicious pleasure of his thick shaft stretching her. As he slid in, the tension in her body gave way. He kissed her as he gently rocked his hips, letting her relish each inch of him. She provoked him with her tongue, trying to invoke wrath. She didn't need gentleness. She needed the man who would hurt her with his intensity.

He stared into her eyes, and she saw confusion reflected in them. She tugged on the ropes until she saw them dig into the skin of his neck. His eyes clouded over into a quiet rage. He grabbed her hands and held them above her head.

Sweet ecstasy crumbled the last vestige of her self-restraint. Her voice echoed in the small room, certainly letting the entire inn how she felt. Even as she came, he refused to stop, reducing her to a babbling mess. She was little more than a sack of flesh in his capable hands, not so much of a human as a vessel for him to gain his pleasure. She belonged to him completely, that would never change.

The world swirled around her. She shut her eyes and saw the vestiges of stars in the blackness. Her voice grew hoarse. He pulled her hair, hard to the point her head lifted off the bed. She put her arms around his waist. His moans became thin rasps.

His body froze for a moment before collapsing and smothering her with kisses. She felt as though he shared in her euphoric delirium in the aftermath, their fevered kisses and frenzied hands reaffirming their shared existence.

Bulma woke bathed in the golden sunlight and entangled in his arms and legs. She ran her fingers through his hair and peppered kisses upon his lips to gently rouse him awake. As he opened his eyes he pulled her closer to him, crushing her in his embrace.

It was going to hurt, leaving him. She closed her eyes and affirmed silently, I am leaving today. There may not be another chance. Should they meet Freiza's forces she would have greater difficulty deciding who may be friend or foe. Wars weren't good for bringing out the best in people. Self-preservation ruled the land.

His hips rocked against her, prompting her to lift her leg up, allowing him access. He slipped inside her and lazily rolled his hips against her as he kissed her neck. A contented sigh escaped her as she tangled her hand in his hair, guiding his lips to the sensitive spots on her neck.

Knowing it would be their last coupling brought a bittersweet tenderness. She relished the sensation of him inside her, the husky moans in her ear, the way his hands took command of her body and played it like a lute.

She pushed him on his back and straddled him. The sunlight bathed her body in warmth. He put his hands behind his head and stared as she rode him, lazy smile on his face. Her heart ached as she gazed upon his serene face.

There were still unanswered questions between them. Perhaps they would never be answered. She didn't plan on ever seeing him again after today, but fate had a way of intertwining people should they be written to be so.

"Come," Vegeta ordered, patting the space on the bed next to him. A thin sheer fabric covered his lower half and she could just make out the outline of his cock. The girls spoke of him in their shared room, late at night. His abnormal length and thickness. How he enjoyed it rough, to the point it made you scream in pain and cry.

Bulma felt his wrath before, several times. The idea of that occurring inside didn't exactly quell excitement.

Yet, a part of her desired it, to know what a man felt like, to know what it was that drove them wild in pursuit of a woman. She felt it deep inside her core, that anticipation of what was to come tonight, and that feeling guided her steps to him, allowing her to appear confident.

"Stop," he ordered, and she did as told. His gaze traveled over every inch of her body, burning her skin with its intensity. "Take off your robe."

She reached up and brushed it off her shoulders, letting it drop down to her elbows before shrugging it off.

He smiled. "Learned that from the girls?" She shook her head as a reply. He twirled his finger in a circle. "Show me yourself."

She turned around in a circle.

"Slower."

She took small steps and took quarter turns at a time, watching him over her shoulder. The sheer cloth seemed to grow tight over his legs, emphasizing his erection. She couldn't keep her gaze off of it. Curiosity erased the fear.

He licked his lips. "You're finally a woman I can enjoy."

"Thank you," she found herself whispering, though she didn't feel thankful for his words.

"Climb on the bed."

She put her legs on the bed and crawled to him. As she approached, he reached out and touched her hair, long silken strings falling through his fingers. As she came near, he guided her to lay down beside him. He ran his hands over every inch of her body, taking care to massage the nerves out of her. Her body became a puddle of goo in his practiced hands.

His gaze met hers. He didn't give her a smile, or reassure her of anything before meeting her lips for her first kiss. So this is what kissing feels like. His lips were warm against hers, yet an inexplicable fire burned in her chest, spreading its warmth through her body. His tongue pressed against her lips and she opened her mouth.

The first taste of a man wasn't like anything she tasted before. He had a sort of smoky taste to him, like the pipe he smoked with the men after dinner. The tingling between her legs became stronger as their tongues intertwined.

His hardness pressed against her leg. She wanted to touch it, but she also knew better than to do anything out of turn. He kissed her neck and she squirmed as he massaged her breasts. When his fingers pinched her nipple, she cooed. Blood rushed to her face.

He chuckled and pinched it again. "Do you like that?" She could only manage to nod. His rough fingers applied more pressure and those cooing sounds of pleasure filled the room. Her back arched and she rocked her hips, squeezing her legs together, trying to quell the pulsating tingles lighting her body aflame.

His gaze met hers and she saw something different inside, a sort of recognition, a certain stoicism to his expression. The pressure on her nipples grew, yet it didn't hurt, the opposite, it felt like sharp rushes of pleasure, directly wired to the center of the tingling ball in her core.

He reached over with his other hand and began rubbing her clit. Simultaneously relief and tension took hold of her body. She trembled with the onslaught of new sensations.

"Do you want me to stop?" he asked, but she couldn't answer coherently. The more he did things that caused pain, the better it felt.

"More!" she managed to gasp. "Like that, more!"

He leaned down and took a breast in his mouth, biting down on her nipple while he twisted the other. All the tension inside burst into an inferno of tingles and heat. Everything in her manifested as a scream. He held her trembling body until it calmed down, kissing her hair.

The cloth long slipped off his lower body. The bulk of his erection rested on her thigh and she couldn't help but stare.

"Touch it."

She reached out and brushed it with the tips of her fingers. Smooth, soft, almost like the silk bedsheets they rested upon. She put her hand over it and rubbed over the length, fingers barely touching around it. A clear liquid leaked out and dripped onto the back of her hand. She lifted it up and sniffed it.

"Lick it off."

She glanced at him and back at her hand, sticking her tongue out and licking it off. Surprisingly, it tasted delicious, tangy and salty with a hint of sweetness. Something in her reaction made him laugh.

He tangled his fingers in her hair and pushed her head down. "Put it in your mouth."

Truthfully, he didn't have to ask. The idea of tasting more of him more than appealed to her. She took him in her mouth and swirled her tongue around. The deep rumble of his moans spurred her on. She tried to take more of him in her mouth, but it proved difficult. She gagged and tried to lift her head up, but he held it firm.

"Keep going."

Her lungs burned for air. She took short breaths through her nose as she tried to push that massive thick cock down her throat. Oddly, by swallowing like she would a meal, it enabled her to take more of him in. She tried to open her jaw more, but it was already locked and sore. He pulled her up and she took a deep breath.

He smiled and kissed her open mouth, shoving his tongue inside, taking command of her. "Good girl," he said, lightly slapping her cheek. His praise brought a warm pride to her chest. He laid her down and spread open her legs, positioning himself at her entrance. He rubbed the head of his cock along her slit and she tensed up, waiting for him to take her.

She groaned as he inched his way inside her. They warned her it would hurt, that he would tear her apart, but it felt more like a good stretch. He took his time, going slow enough that she could feel every second that passed, the way her body adjusted to the new thing inside her.

And yet, the fullness that he brought also felt amazing. He didn't ask if it hurt. He wouldn't, it wasn't in his nature. Yet the fact that he took his time stretching her meant somewhere, he cared, even if it was only preserving property.

"Look at me," he growled.

She met his gaze. He began rocking his hips into her, just enough to make her long for more.

"How does it feel having your first cock?"

"I love it," she whispered.

"I can't hear you."

"I love it," she repeated, breathless.

He slapped the side of her ass. "Tell me!"

"I love it," she yelled.

She had her share of beatings before, after all, she couldn't keep her mouth shut, but this time instead of hurting, it felt good. So good, she wanted to take the position over his knee and let him spank her to his heart's content.

"Tell me what you want."

She nibbled her lip. Should she mention that particular thought aloud? He growled and spanked her again. She shuddered and gripped the sheets. "I want you to bend me over the knee and spank me like I've done something bad," she babbled.

His low moan rumbled through the room. She felt him grow harder inside her. Of course, of course he would relish the opportunity to spank her. But am I just as sick for wanting it?

He pulled out and in a smooth movement, lifted her up and over his knee. "Is this what you want?" he taunted, spanking her ass.

"Yes," she sighed, relishing the moment the pain of the slap turned into those cooling tingles.

"If I had known you were this nasty I would have fucked you sooner," he cooed, rubbing her tender flesh. She clenched her internal muscles, trying to relieve the twisted knots of desire that returned. Now that his cock wasn't in her, she felt an emptiness she didn't know was there. How would it feel to be spanked as he was inside her?

"You're going to see me every night," he continued. "I'm going to turn you into a little cock slut, just for me."

"Yes," she gasped.

His thick hand pounded her tender flesh. She cried out and squirmed under him, but he held her firm. "You will refer to me as your Prince at all times, do you understand?"

"Yes!" Her outburst earned another spanking, this time harder, enough to actually cause pain.

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, my lord."

He rubbed her sore asscheeks as a reward. "Good girl," he whispered. He pulled her up and straddled her over his erection, easing her body onto it. "Do you like that?" his deep voice boomed as he licked the crest of her ear. His hand massaged her ass as he guided her hips up and down.

"Yes, my lord."

It felt unnatural, yet natural at the same time to be obedient to him. The rebellious streak in her withered away to the tune of his thick cock entering her. He flipped her over and

He laughed. "Look at you. Last of your kind, squealing like a whore on your conqueror's cock."

His words were an ice bath. She stared at him with renewed hatred. She snaked her fingers around his neck and squeezed as tight as she could manage.

His eyes widened. He grinned and sped up. She hated her body at that moment, the way it relished his speed, the way it accommodated him perfectly, the way she craved it and desired it like a forbidden fruit. He had to die today.

His hot seed filled her. The room filled with his lion-like roar.

The first, and the last. Bulma stroked Vegeta's hair and gave him a long kiss as he held her in the aftermath of his orgasm.

The door knocked. "My lord! We need your approval for new weapons."

He groaned and rolled out of bed. The golden sunlight lit his body as though it were made of bronze. He stretched and walked to the door. "Bring me my robe." After she helped him dress, he turned around and glanced at her, saying simply, "Be back by nightfall."

The town had a quaint charm to it. There were many people spilling out of the taverns to the streets, drunk and merry. The people who lived here obviously didn't enjoy their presence but wouldn't say a word. No one dared to go against Vegeta in this land.

Their stares followed her every move. That was normal, considering no one had her hair color anymore, but she needed to find someone desperate. A man who would do as she said for a chance to sleep with her, one who was dumb enough to be with the woman Vegeta named his First.

They had a small market set up several blocks away from the inn. Nothing special, a few homemade wares and food, but it was a man who caught her eye, or rather, met her gaze as she came close.

He had a scruffy look to him. A scar stretched across his cheek and long hair gathered in a messy ponytail. He wore a flirty smile and greeted her with "Hello, beautiful."

She flashed him a huge smile and gave him doll eyes. "Those are some lovely furs."

"Good for keeping you warm during the winter. Not as good as your husband, I fancy."

"Oh, I don't have a husband," she replied, twirling her hair around her finger.

"You don't?" he asked, and she heard the desire in his tone.

She nodded. "I'm afraid I've held a sheltered life…" she trailed off and pretended to wipe a tear from her eye. "I managed to escape my master and I've been wandering since."

"Your master?" he repeated. "You were a slave?"

She nodded. "I only have what I have on me right now."

"Do you need a place to stay tonight?"

She put her hands over her mouth. "That's too much to ask of a stranger."

He shook his head. "I insist. Let me warm your side tonight." He cleared his throat. "With my furs, of course."

She smiled. "You're too kind. I don't even know your name."

"Call me Yamcha."

She smiled. "I love that name. A strong name, for a strong man."

He laughed. "And yours?"

"Garter."

"Your name is as beautiful as you."

"I'm afraid you're smothering me with kindness. I can't take it all."

"I live in a cabin in the woods. It's a short walk from here. Do you want to leave now?"

"How can I repay your kindness? I'm sure the soldiers will take awe of your wares."

He shrugged. "They'll be around. I'll drop you off and come back. Not a big deal."

She helped him gather his furs and pack them into the rucksack he carried. As they walked, he made small talk and she answered with the zest of a woman enraptured. She provoked him to touch her, making certain to give him a glimpse of her body, fueling the lust she saw in his eyes.

"How long has it been since you've been with a woman?" she asked.

His ears turned red. "I dare say I have yet to take a wife, and only met with women of the night. Forgive my honesty."

She shook her head. "I find it hard to believe such a handsome man like you doesn't have women falling at his feet."

"Most don't enjoy the forest life, I'm afraid."

She ran her hand down his arms, feeling his muscles. Not as strong as Vegeta, but what man was? He was stronger than her, at least, but not so strong that she couldn't best him in a struggle so long as she used her wits.

The trail to his cabin was well-worn. If anyone saw them leave, they wouldn't have the forest for cover. I need to get this over with as soon as possible. After she traded his wares for a horse, she could make time. Farmland lay ahead of them. There had to be a farmer willing to trade a horse for furs. And if no one did, they surely would for gold.

His cabin was small and only had a bed, table, and stove inside. He placed his sack by the entrance and wiped the sweat off his forehead. "It's not much, but if you fancy, I can make it bigger. It's not much to build."

She put her arms around his neck and gave him a long kiss. "Let me thank you," she whispered, reaching down and rubbing her hand against his crotch. She didn't have to ask twice.

Nothing. That is all she felt as he fumbled his way through copulation. With Vegeta, everything in her responded to the lightest of touches. With him, his sloppy hands, slobbering kisses, sweaty thrusts, it lacked anything sensual. It was boring, it didn't feel nice, or rather, it didn't feel like much of all. His erratic breaths and moans filled the cabin, so apparently he enjoyed it. As odd as it seemed, the punishments proved Vegeta paid greater attention to her needs, to her limits and providing her with pleasure, even if it seemed at expense to his own at times. No matter how he ordered her, her needs were met always.

She shifted her weight to give him better access. The sooner this was over, the better. To think, at this time, of all times, I would miss Vegeta.

The shimmer of her dagger caught the edge of her eye. She glanced at it and pretended to stretch forward like a cat, brushing her fingertips at the edge of the hilt. She arched her back and began exaggerating her supposed pleasure to near comical levels.

It did its job. He seemed to be reaching his zenith. She pulled the dagger close and flipped their bodies. She rode him, making a show of showing off her breasts, much to his obvious enjoyment. He came in a roar.

Her long fingers snaked around his neck. He trembled under her, slapping her hands. She squeezed harder. His body bucked, but she leaned forward, putting all her weight onto his neck. He continued to struggle. It would be hard to choke him to death. She grabbed the dagger at her hips and pressed it against his chest.

The doors burst open. She turned and saw men clad in armor.

"Look at that hair. That's the one."

Before she could react, Yamcha took the dagger from her hands and pushed her to the floor. A man grabbed his arm and pushed him to the ground, then in a clean motion, sliced his throat. Blood sprayed all over their bodies as they marched to her.

She stood and held up both her hands. "Those aren't Vegeta's banners," she noted with a snide smile.

"Grab her," one of the men ordered.

"Easy now," she chided as a man grabbed her wrists and began tying them together. "I assume I'm to be sent to your leader?"

"You don't need to worry about where you're going."

She nodded to the leather satchel on the table. "I'm a medic. If you take my bag I can be of use to you."

He grabbed the bag and opened it. He half growled and tossed it to one of his men. "Take that too."

"Not going to clothe me?" she asked with a mock innocence to her tone. "Surely your master won't want his prize marred."

The man punched her. She laughed through the pain. "Come on, Vegeta hits me harder than that."

"Get her out of here."

As she walked, she planted her feet firmly on the ground. The trail of blood left in her wake would be the only clue to her whereabouts.

She didn't count on Vegeta saving her to be a knight in shining armor, but she could count on him getting back his property, especially if these men were in employ of the fabled Frieza.

A/N: I'm sorry I'm so slow getting these chapters out. It's out of my comfort zone (I usually write cute/steamy stories) and it's difficult for me to write. I worry that it's not up to par. Thank you for reading and waiting. I will finish this, no matter what.