Adult-FanFiction.org : Gundam, Beyblade, DBZ, FMA

Vegeta\'s Pet	By : Kuro Category: Dragon Ball Z > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 3568 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own DragonballZ, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Vegeta's Pet
- 2-Never Alone
- 1
- 2
((Here you go; yet another YxV fic brought to you courtesy of Kuro-chan. This fic and the other lovely fic of this nature I have up here on aff.net, �Those Eyes,� are really the only two rape fics I have. It�s not my al sal style of writing, as you see. This fic, though it has a more considerable amount of rape, actually turns into a romance a lot quicker than my other fic. Go figure. oh well, I just figured I�d put this up while I was at it. Remember; reviews, comments, and constructive criticism are appreciated!))

****

It was a relatively quiet day. Vegeta hated quiet days; there was nothing to do. He was restless now more than ever. Bulma...damn that woman of his! All this month, and last month as well, she had been too busy working or out partying to give him his �attention�. Two months, two months without any sex. He felt fury welling up in his veins; stemming from all the penned-up sexual lust he was unable to release. He needed a quick lay; any partner would do as long as he could release his seed. It was, at times, very inconvenient to be a saiyajin. The constant heat cycle was bitch, especially when he had no mate. Bulma said she was tired of being hsex sex toy�, as she put it, and the sex was to be an emotional process and symbol of love. Bullshit. A bunch of human drivel. Sex was, and always would be, the means of reproduction and an outlet of lust. Love was not involved. Period. It was merely an act to keep population and morale up. He growled, punching at the bedroom wall. Craving surged through his veins. His heat cycle wouldn�t be completed until the end of next week. Until then, he needed a way to exercise his passion. He slammed the bedroom door open, the bright light that beamed in from the hall windows stinging his eyes. He snarled and raised his arm up in front of his eyes to blot out the accursed light. He made his way down the stairs surprisingly well considering her had almost been blinded. Damn woman...opening all the curtains in the damned house to let in light. It�s nothing short of a miracle that I wasn�t blinded. Once the spots had cleared from his vision, he first thing he saw was Yamcha. The accursed human earth scum. Oh great, what a wonderful first sight to see. Now I wish I *was* blinded. Why is he even here? Probably to see the woman, no doubt. Why he feels such an attraction towards her is beyond me. That is why he is such an imperfect being. That woman may not be much of a mate, but she still belongs to me. All that retched slime mold cares about is getting a quick lay....

Then, Vegeta got a devilish idea.

"Hey, earth sc--" he stopped mid-sentence, rethinking the words and tone he was using. No one in their right mind would come near Vegeta if he barked insults at them. That was the human way. Vocal fluctuation like his was likely to cause intimidation. That would come later. For now, Vegeta needed to instill in the human filth a false sense of security. He put on a forced smile that looked more of a evil grimace than anything and rephrased the sentence. "You there...Yamcha was it? So nio seo see you. Now why are you calling on us today?" he said through his horrible, plastered-on, false smile. The first thing Yamcha did was jerk suddenly at the realization of who was talking to him and cower slightly, shrinking away.

"I...Vegeta. Wh-what a nice surprise. Y-you wouldn�t happen to know if B-B�s a�s around, would you?" he stammered, shaking from head to toe. He looked as if he were going to piss in his pants. Vegeta felt his grin turn to a frown as he looked at the pathetic creature and thought about what he was about to do.

"Yes. Perhaps I do know where the woman is." he said, forcing up a new smile, "Just follow me."

Timidly, Yamcha followed behind Vegeta, too nervous to utter so much as a peep. Vegeta led him to the side bedroom and opened the door. He stupidly walked past Vegeta and peered into the room, his dark eyes doing a quick scan. he seemed a bit confused and was about to back out, but Vegeta shoved him forcefully into the room, slamming the door behind him. He shoved the human over onto his back across the bed. Fear was etched into his eyes now, fear that Vegeta swallowed hungrily. He straddled him, pinning him down and placing a hand around his throat. The scarred Z fighter squirmed and writhed around, trying desperately to escape. Vegeta smacked him across the face and placed a knee lightly over his groin to deter any further movement. He looked up at him, squeaking in terror. Vegeta�s obsidian eyes flashed as they locked with Yamcha� tin tiny, sinister grin spread over the saiyajin prince�s face as he eyed his captive. He suddenly felt warm dampness on his knee, and let his grin twist into an baneful leer that would scare anyone else to death.

"Well, now. We can�t let you wallow around in wet pants now, can we?" he rasped.

He used his free hand to remove Yamcha�s belt quickly. If given the right opportunity, he knew the human would bolt, so Vegeta was careful to take precautions. He removed the hand from around Yamcha�s throat and sat up enough to spin Yamcha over onto his stomach. Yamcha thrashed around, nearly throwing Vegeta off. Vegeta snarled and regained control by pressing Yamcha�s face into the pillow. He thrashed for a bit but gradually stopped. Vegeta loosed his grip, allowing Yamcha some air. He couldn�t risk another event like that, so he wrappee bee belt around Yamcha�s right wrist, lashing it to the bed. He reared up and removed his own belt and used it to secure the left wrist. He moved so fast this time around, he didn�t give Yamcha any time to move or struggle.

"Can�t have you running away." he purred.

He shifted and turned, sitting on the man�s back. He grabbed the hem of Yamcha�s pants and swiftly yanked them off, along with his socks and shoes, all in one smooth movement. He repositioned himself and stared hungrily at Yamcha�s well-muscled buttocks. How badly he wanted to dip into his flesh. When he could wait no longer, Vegeta tore his own pants off, letting his erection greet the cool air. He smiled, and without a second thought, plunged into Yamcha�s ass. As he did so, he felt something rip deep inside the man; but it didn�t matter to him, it was someone else�s body, and therefore their own problem. Yamcha snapped to reality, letting loose the loudest screech imaginable. He tugged at his binds that held him fast to the bed, his voice bearing every note of pain and agony he experienced. Vegeta felt warm blood rush from the wounds but paid no heed and pushed in deeper, reveling in every scream of torture he elicited from the man beneath him. Yamcha pulled at his binds again, this time snapping the frail leather of the belts. Vegeta drew his cock out to the tip and then plunged in again, the blood from Yamcha�s wounds working as an excellent lubricant. Each time he plunged himself in, he tore the wound inside Yamcha deeper; but he didn�t care, Vegeta only cared about himself and his pleasure. Yamcha howled and grabbed at the sheets, biting down on the pillows. He let go and lifted his head up, screaming as Vegeta dug in again, this time deeper than before. He yelled at the top of his lungs, screaming until he had no breath. Vegeta pulled out and snarled, turning Yamcha halfway over only to smack him twice in the face.

"Shut the fuck up, you stupid human, and take it like a man!!!" Vegeta yelled, punctuating each word with a new blow.

He forced Yamcha back over and pushed his rigid cock back in. Yamcha tooe pie pillow in his mouth to stifle his screams. Vegeta hit very hard when he was angry, and he didn�t want another beating. Now, each of the saiyajin prince�s thrusts were jagged and violent, though they slid very easy, anointed by the blood that now gushed around his member and over Yamcha�s thighs. Yamcha rasped hoarsely, his vocal chords too wracked to make any sounds. Vegeta was thrusting faster now, sliding in and out effortlessly. His pupils shrunk and his heart sped up as he neared his climax. His hair exploded in a golden flash and energy surged through his veins. He pushed in harder, with almost god-like speed, hitting depths inside the human below him that seemed impossible to even exist. He gripped Yamcha�s shoulders tightly, his nails becoming embedded in the Z fighter�s flesh, sending tiny rivers of blood down Yamcha�s back. Yamcha howled in pain, the anguish too much to hold back. He tugged at the pillow forcefully, tearing a good size chunk out of it, and sending little white feathers all around the room. Vegeta�s power aura swept the feathers around in all directions, showering them down all around the room. The saiyajin prince suddenly threw his head back in a feral roar, raking his nails down Yamcha�s back as he orgasmed forcefully into the weak shell below him. At once, his hair returned to it�s ebony state and he dropped down, collapsing across Yamcha�s back.

Yamcha, for one, was glad it was over. He had thought for sure he was going t tor torn in two quite a few times during the process. Shapes and stars exploded in front of his eyes as the pain ran up and down his body. He winced, in too much pain to even move. Vegeta smiled, feeling relieved. Yamcha wheezed raspily as Vegeta spun him around onto his back. He wrapped his fingers around Yamcha�s throat, glaring into his eyes and paralyzing him with fear.

"Well, well, well. I think I may have found a use for you after all. Now, listen here, and listen good. I won�t make any long speeches; instead I�ll keep it short. You are, as of now my--now how did that woman phrase it? Ah, yes my �sex toy�. You see, every saiyajin goes through a cycle of heat once a month," he rasped. At this point, Yamcha could think of many smart-ass comments to make, and would have made them if he weren�t so damn terrified. Vegeta continued on, squeezing Yamcha�s throat tighter. "and now that damn woman refuses to meet my needs. For two months she has kept her stupid, useless protest out of spite. Two whole months I�ve had to endure the damned instinctive lust all because that woman refuses to participate. You, however, are not going to argue with me. Submit peacefully, and make it easier for the both of us. I am very testy, as you see, and cannot be held liable for what I might do. From here on in, you are my�" He paused for a moment thinking of a word for the pitiful creature. The man was, by no means, his equal, and even �subordinate� gave him too much credit. No, he was more like a beast, a filthy, spineless animal that could only be trained by threats and discipline. He was more like a... "pet. You hear that? I have control, and you are just a lowly beast. My pet. Understand? Good." he snarled.

"No. Fuckin�. WAY!!! I will not go through this again. I�m not into men, so what makes you think that being a dirty, stinkin� ape will change my mind?" he barked, though it was more of a wheeze since Vegeta was constricting his windpipe.

"Yamcha, do make this easier for the both of us." Vegeta said coolly.

Yamcha said nothing, but glared into his emotionless, obsidian eyes, and spit in his face. Vegeta raised his free hand, which all his weight had so far been resting on, and used it to wipe the spit from his face. He transferred all the weight to the hand wrapped around Yamcha�s throat, causing the man to gasp and wheeze uncontrollably. After he wiped away the spit, he put his hand back down, redistributing the weight. Yamcha sucked in what precious air he could.

"This is not a request, this is a command. You are my pet. Live with it. This is an offer you can�t refuse. Now say it. Tell me who you are." he growled.

He shifted his weight to his knees and lifted again his free hand. He formed an energy ball in the center of his palm, and held it a fraction of an inch away from Yamcha�s groin. Yamcha swallowed hard.

"I...I...I..." he stammered. Then he sighed, seeing it useless to fight. Death wasn�t very high on his lists of desires. But then again, neither was being a saiyajin�s whore. But against better judgment, he felt himself giving in. Death was one of the biggest things he feared and maybe it wouldn�t be so bad. Once a month; it was just like a payment to extend his life. But then again, was it worth it? Yamcha weighed out his choices, but fear was controlling him, making his mouth move without thought.

"I am your pet." he wheezed, defeated. The energy ball the saiyajin had been holding vanished, and Vegeta hopped off the bed.

A horrible smirk spread across Vegeta�s face. "Good boy. I�m going to get cleaned up. You stay here and don�t move. I�ll be back for you."

Yeah, like I�m going anywhere after what happened. I can hardly move!, Yamcha lamented. But he said nothing and laid obediently on the bed, letting what just happened sink in. He had just become someone�s bitch. The funny thing was, he didn�t become people�s bitch. They became his. It felt odd and dark being on the other end for once. The only other time he had been ordered round like this was when he was with Bulma. But there was no beating involved, unless you count the numerous slaps, kicks, and random objects heaved at him. Okay, so there was a lot of beating involved, but not during or after sex. That was the one place he was in control. And now, he had just lost the one thing he was good at, the one thing over which he had control. His sexual life. He rolled painfully over onto his stomach, his mind racing. The fact that he had just had sex with another man was slowly sinking in, like a dreaded poison to his brain. Great. So now that I�m Vegeta�s bitch, I might as well kiss my life goodbye. It�s only been one time and already he has me whipped. But who could fight against him? One wrong move and he blows my balls off. And really, at such a close proximity, it would obliterate me. I suppose, considering the facts, he really isn�t that bad looking.... Ack! What am I saying? Please don�t tell me I�m gay...or bisexual. Crap. He turned fac face to the door just as Vegeta came striding back in. Oh, Kami...here he comes....

Vegeta opened the door, smiling slightly. He tossed a pair of pants at Yamcha.

"Here. Put these on." he said.

His voice was more relaxed now, and Yamcha felt slightly better, like he was out of any serious danger. He took the pants and pulled them endeenderly over his abused flesh. He zipped them up, being careful not to get anything caught in the zipper�s sharp, interlocking metal teeth. The pants were a little short in the legs, so Yamcha figured they were probably a pair of Vegeta�s. The saiyajin prince scowled at him suddenly.

"What are you staring at? Damn human..." he muttered. "Go away. Go back to your sad little house. When I need you, I�ll call you." he finished.

Yamcha managed to nod his head as he slowly swung his legs off the bedside and stood up. He cast her her glance at Vegeta, meeting with an ominous glare.

"Get out, stupid! NOW!!!" he yelled.

Yamcha didn�t hesitate this time. He scrabbled away, cowering slightly. He pounded down the stairs, taking three at a time. He powered out the door, his heart leaping into his throat. He ran as fast as his legs could carry him, and didn�t once stop until he was safely through the door of his house. He flopped down on the couch as soon as he could, his legs feeling like rubber; and being to weak to hold up the weight of his body. He drew his legs up to his chin, his entire body shaking. He was in pain; blinding, white-hot pain that seared every inch of his body. The throbbing discomfort in his rear-end and the warm trickles he felt reminded him painfully of what had just happened, not that he could forget. Apparently running wasn�t a wise thing to do either. Especially after one has been ass-raped. He didn�t even know why he had been running; there was no threat now that Vegeta was content. But for some reason he felt he had to run and leave behind what had just happened. He really wished he hadn�t. He suddenly felt his stomach give a huge heave, and he felt a tight sensation in his throat. He clamped a hand over his mouth, knowing instantly he was going to be sick. He forced himself up, into a sitting position and then leapt to his feet. He felt a sudden rush of dizziness and glanced to the bathroom. It was too far. There was no way he would make it. He frantically scanned the room, for any alternate option. But he found none. His stomach gave another forceful shudder, and he could taste the bitter bile welling up in the back of his throat. He swallowed deeply, pushing the vomit back down his esophagus. But the moment the acidic fluid hit his stomach, it came roaring back up with a vengeance. He yanked his hand away out of instinct, puking all over the front of his shirt. He tried to lean over, the second wave splashing all over his legs. He made a final attempt to bend fully over, the last of the onslaught getting all over his shoes and floor. He shivered, defeated, and collapsed back to the couch. He curled up into a fetal position once again, shaking with humility, fear, and a mix of many other indescribable feelings. He sobbed loudly, tears rolling down his face. Sorrow manifested itself in his mind, in his soul. Fear, humiliation, sorrow, dejection, depression. He cried until his throat was raw; raw to the point he could hardly breathe, let alone make any vocal utterance. He shook violently, wanting now nothing more than to just die. Why wasn�t Pu�ar drifting over? Why wasn�t she there to stroke him and to make him feel better? Why wasn�t she there to clean him up and tell him that it was okay, and that there was no problem? Did she get tired of taking care of him? Could she just not stand any of this? Did she leave? She left me...everyone I know and care about leaves me...why her? He began to cry again, despite the utter pain in his throat. He felt the walls of his throat close up, blocking out not only his sobbing voice, but his air as well. He sat bolt upright, coughing and choking, wheezing as he gasped for breath. He felt a small warmth on his shoulder, a downy, furry warmth He turned around slowly, coming face-to-face with a certain blue shape shifter. He gazed into her jet-black eyes, sniffling pitifully like a little kid, looking for sympathy. She reached out and stroked his face with her paw, looking at him with a sorrowful glance of extreme pity. She looked a little unnerved, Yamcha noted, but then again so must he. Actually, he figured he had to look downright horrible, what with his mussed hair, bloodshot eyes, and dirty tear-streaked face; not to mention he was covered in puke. Pu�ar smiled feebly and ruffed his sweat-soaked, messy hair.

"Come on, let�s go get you cleaned up in the bathroom." she said quietly.

He nodded numbly and uncurled, staggering upright. He stumbled and swayed towards the bathroom, still feeling sick and overtired from everything that had happened not even a full hour ago. He pulled off his vomit-drenched shirt and let it drop into the hamper. He leaned weakly over the tub, plugging up the drain and drawing the warm water for a bath. He carefully, and rather precariously, unzipped the pants Vegeta had loaned him and shed them, tossing the stained garments into the hamper. He climbed into the tub, letting the water fill up as he laid down, closins eys eyes. He was still a great deal sore, and he figured he would be for quite a few more days. Once the water had welled up around his collarbone, he lifted his foot up out of the bathwater and kicked the faucet off. Pu�ar drifted over to the tub, perching on the side. She looked at him uneasily, shifting around.

"I saw you had some pretty big bruises on your back and�um...ass. What happened over at Bulma�s? Did she...? What...?" she said, wringing her paws nervously. "You also have some nasty marks on your face."

"They�re called scars. I�ve had them for quite awhile." he said, with his eyes still closed.

"No...I mean the red marks and the bruise on your cheekbone..." she pointed out.

"Look, just stay out of my life, and I�ll stay of of yours." he said, his voice cracking slightly.

He was very emotionally stressed, and even closer to just breaking down and sobbing again. Great. I�m a few organs away from becoming a woman. I�m even already another man�s bitch. Pu�ar reached over and stroked Yamcha with a shaking hand.

"Yamcha...is there anything you want to tell me?" she asked.

Yamcha stood up abruptly, bathwater streaming off his sleek body. He stepped out and wrapped a towel tight around his waist. He had to bite down on his lip to keep from lashing out at the floating cat. He tasted coppery blood, but bit down harder and ignored the pain, brushing past Pu�ar and into his room. He tore open his drawer, pulling out a pair of loose-fitting pajamas; he would need them. He slipped them on under the towel, and then let it drop to the floor. He wore nothing on his upper torso, as he couldn�t be bothered to care. He collapsed across the bed, laying on his stomach for obvious reasons. He hated sleeping on his stomach, but he knew he better get used to it as sleeping on his back was just not and option in any way, shape, or form. Pu�ar didn�t drift in behind him, so he figured she must have made up her mind to leave him alone. He let his eyes drift closed, feeling so utterly weighted by exhaustion that sleep claimed him in hardly an instant.

****

((There you go. The first chapter. Got a beef? Questions about my writing? E-mail me at furre_and_more@yahoo.com. I�ll have the next chapter up soon. Until next time, ja ne! ))
- 1
- 2
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Vegeta\'s Pet