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Mercy	By : chroniclyflaming Category: Dragon Ball Z > Het - Male/Female Views: 2339 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Do not own DBZ at all and am making no money off this

Chapter List
- 1-Mercy
- 1
Prompt: 18/Vegeta.
Humiliation, with her putting the prince in his place. Some bondage/dub-con is not necessary, but would be greatly appreciated~

The fill:

“Welllll.” She stretched out the word. “Look who it is.”

“Android.” Was all he could say, cold steel in his voice while a frozen snake twisted in his guts.

She was looking at him, all pretty and innocent with blonde hair and big blue eyes. Wearing that skirt from before, but without tights and that black shirt without the striped white-and-black one underneath. Just a girl.

The thing tilted its head. “What are you doing here?”

Nothing. Exactly nothing. Just trying to dodge the brat whose identity was so pathetically obvious now, trying not to think about how easily and quickly everything had been taken from him. His gloved hands tightened until they creaked and the aching pain sent icicles into his brain. One two three sharp and nearly enough to make him close his eyes four five six.

The blue eyes were narrowed thoughtfully. “Your hair looks like a Christmas tree.”

A vein was twitching in his temple. Bulma had said the same thing, big and pregnant and hanging ridiculous toys off a green tree, but with that same innocent air. They looked nothing alike though. Even their blue eyes were different shades and shapes. Light where the woman was dark, thin instead of lush. But similarities were still buried there. That teasing smirk that challenged him, the sizing up with their gaze.

As soon as he threw the first punch, she was already gone. Behind him, he knew, but was too slow to turn. He took the blow with only the mildest grunt. The kick to his side made him go flying into the nearest dusty circle of broken rocks. Vegeta spat out blood, wiping his chin firmly. “Where’s the big one and the skinny one. Remind me again, which one of you is the boy and which is the girl?”

“Oh, I understand. It must get confusing for your little head to understand differences in gender. I’m a girl. You can tell because I have breasts. But again, since it’s not like anyone’s ever shown you those before, I can let that slide.”

Again, she was gone, leaving him not even a ghost of an afterimage. He turned on his heel, saying her to the right and aiming another low punch at her center.

“So slooow.” Stretching out the word again, while she gently floated away from him.

Then she was a white—yellow-black blur, diving towards his back with a booted foot. The kick went straight into his spine, so strong he could hear the bones cracking under the strain. She landed gracefully, reaching out to grab his shoulders with enough strength to tear apart the reinforced armor.

“You really do have to tell me,” she leaned in close, every word a low promise that stuck to his ears. “How it feels to have your ass beaten by a girl.”

He made a move to grab her, but she drove a foot into the inside of his knee. Another grunt escaped his mouth, louder this time, as he clutched his leg. “You know what I really don’t like about you Vegeta?”

“Shut up, machine.”

“For such a small man, you have such a large ego. Why can’t you be like that other little guy?” a smile in her voice lifted her tone just as it must have her mouth. “That nice little scared one. He knows his place. Plus, he’s cuter.”

“I told you to shut up!” He turned, feeling fire in his veins and burst out into a wave of gold surrounding his body. For a moment, he was the strongest being on the planet, the King of all Saiyans, and things were as they should be. Then she drove another foot into his other knee with a small laugh, blonde hair blowing freely in the low wind.

“I never had to beat…what’s his name?” She snapped her fingers. “Oh, yes. Krillin.” The name of that miserable shrimp rolled off her tongue, like she was getting wet just by saying it. But then he had wondered how the shrimp hadn’t been beaten like the rest of them. How long had they been unconscious, lying in the dirt below while the androids did God only knows what with that midget.

Disgusting.

He did his best to sneer instead of grimace. Where were the other androids? “I’m sure he loved rolling onto his back for you.”

That smile pulled up the corners of her mouth and eyes. “Oh yes, he did.”

Vegeta rubbed one shoulder. His skin crawled with revulsion. “Where are the others?”

“I could ask the same of you.”

The sneer came easier at the thought of his ‘companions’. “I don’t know and I don’t care.”

She blew hair out of her eyes. “They’re out. The car we were riding in, that Juunanagou wanted to ride in, ran out of gas.”

“Why weren’t you just flying?”

The machine shrugged, crossing her legs and drawing his eye for moment. “Like I said, Juunanagou wanted to ride around in a car.”

They looked at each other for a moment, wondering who would attack the other one first this time. She seemed to be playing defense more, as though he wasn’t worth the effort of going first. Another wave of rage made his hands shake. His knees still ached and threatened to give away with any more pressure.

Her expression shifted for cautiously neutral to annoyed. Just like the woman, she was a shifting spring of emotions. He braced himself, feeling sweat gathering on his forehead.

“I don’t know whether or not to feel sorry for you.”

Vegeta’s head jerked, like a fly had buzzed by.

“It’s just,” she rubbed at an invisible spot on her wrist, slow. The sound of skin on skin irked him further. “You’re just so miserably proud of so little. Like a little kid showing his scribbles to his parents.”

He could nearly smell and feel hard packed dirt beneath him, and Trunk’s foolish scream behind him. “Shut up.”

“I have to ask, how long did you work to get this strong? Years?”

“I’ll destroy you.” The Saiyan growled, feeling his teeth clench to strangle his words.

The android laughed, then raised a hand and beckoned to his with a cocked finger. “Come on.”

Unnerved, he remained standing. His eyes watched her hands warily.

“Come on,” she put her hands on her hips. “You have nothing better to do. Maybe we can spar, and I can break your other arm? Wouldn’t that be fun?”

Then the blonde human-looking girl started to walk off without waiting for him. In the brown surrounding them, she looked bright and viciously alive. Dust rose where she walked, staining her boots a lighter brown.

Somehow, he couldn’t resist following her. His eyes strayed to the white skin she fearlessly showed. Where had the rest of her clothes gone? They hadn’t been that badly damaged from their earlier fight. Maybe it was just another funny, female thing that she was programmed to do?

They stopped finally, after walking for several minutes through the harsh landscape. He still didn’t understand why the machines were here. Kakarotte’s house was nowhere near. But again an answer came to him: it was better that they leave Son alone for as long as possible. When he healed, then he was Vegeta’s to finish off. Perhaps the android was still stronger than him, damn her, but surely he was stronger than that third-rate moron.

“What are you doing?”

He stopped, looking up and realizing that she’d ended their little ‘walk.’

She sat on the hood of the car. One leg moved to rub against the other. Although he was not a man easily surprised, Vegeta was still taken aback by the amount of pale leg she showed.

She was bony, he thought spitefully. Too thin.

It looked like it would break just from the slightest contact. Underneath that skin there were metal parts and something that masked their ki, or was their life-force. They might just be robots, or parts of dead humans sewn together and held in place with bolts and wires unseen. Ghoulishly, he entertained the thought that they were more zombies than androids. Not even machines, just lifeless flesh moved through electricity and motors.

In the still of the sterile desert, he heard no whirl of mechanics. Only the rustle of clothing, her hmming thoughtfully, the car settling with her weight.

“Who was that purple-haired boy with you?”

Vegeta remained silent. Somewhere inside, the tiniest, smallest fraction of protectiveness towards the teenage version of the screaming red thing Bulma had spat out between her legs. They may have done something to that short bastard, and maybe with his consent, but they wouldn’t do anything to his flesh and blood. Relief spurred when he realized that Trunks was flying around in a pout, looking and not finding him, far away from all this.

“Fine. Don’t tell me.”

If something happened to him, if he died in battle as he was born and raised to, then at least the boy would escape to live and seek vengeance. For a brief moment, he saw his son, nearly taller than he was, flashing in gold and with teal eyes. Bulma’s face with his expressions and hardness. For his youth, he had managed to achieve that status before Vegeta.

Her tapered pale eyes were searching him.

“So, what’s with the blonde thing? You make a terrible one, by the way.”

“None of your business.” He took pleasure in their ignorance, though little. There was an echo of Bulma in his words, reminding him of her mother walking in on them and asking what they were doing.

“You’ll tell me,” she promised. Her words were flat and sure. “You’ll do whatever I want you to, when I say so.”

“Is that what you think, robot?” Rage ran through him. The pain still persisting in his legs disappeared. “I’m not your plaything.”

“You’re whatever I want you to be.” All the calmness was swept away, and she leaned forward. A demonic expression made her face turn to carved stone. Eyes were the vivid blue of the sky here on Earth. Downturned pink mouth that revealed perfect teeth.

Her foot kicked out, again and again, sending him falling back. His legs trembled from the earlier blows, and soon his chest and arms were bruised to the bone and aching. Narrowly, no, purposely she avoided his head, just aiming close for it to show that she could smashed his skull in. Every blow was contained, enough to hurt, not to kill. Just like a woman.

Casually, she rested the top of her boot on his head and laughed at his no doubt outrage expression. “Do you get it?”

Dust tickled his nose, and a buckle dug into his scalp.

“I want you to,” she paused, rolling around words in her head and on her tongue. “Suck me off? Get me off? Make me orgasm.”

Stunned, he could only blink. Revulsion took the words away from him. “Are you joking, toaster?”

“Finally. I was waiting for you to make that joke. No, I just want to get off and you’re the only male available.”

“What about those other two?”

She looked as disgusted as he felt. “What? No. Juunanagou’s my brother. And Juurokugou. Well. Do I really need to explain this one. He’s not my type.”

“Did the midget do this for you?” he spat.

“Of course not,” she laughed, as though tickled by the thought. “I just met him. What kind of woman do you think I am?”

“By the way,” the android asked casually. “You wouldn’t happen to know what his preferences were, would you? Brunettes, blondes, red-heads? Woman? Men? Just for sake of curiosity.

“Oh, don’t make that face. It makes you even more unattractive.” The girl grabbed his head, getting a firm grip on his hair. A sadistic grin lit up her pale face.

Disturbingly, now the prince could understand why that miserable little sick fuck shaved his head.

“I don’t think you’ve been obedient enough.” The tip of her boots ground into the socket of his arm. “Why don’t you beg a little?”

A harsh laugh spilled from his mouth. “I faced Freiza, the ugliest and most powerful thing in this universe. You think a little girl can scare me?”

The robot looked thought. “Not as much as Freiza. But even if I’m not him, I can still hurt you.”

“Sshhh.” The blonde mumbled, eyes closing. One hand remained firmly on the back of his skull, forcing his face into her legs. Up, and up. He could smell her. She wore no underpants under her denim skirt.

“Keep quiet.”

She tasted not unlike his woman, and that reminder of her made his stomach clench. Already, she was damp, wet pinkness and short curly gold hairs. Despite her forcefulness, less inviting than Bulma. Putting his tongue to her took more effect than he would have thought. His mouth was dry.

Then she easily kicked him away, shoving him out from between her warm legs and into the cold desert air. Soon night would fall, and his heart seemed to freeze when he wondered what would happen by that time.

The android was panting, pushing hair out of her eyes and looking angry, disappointed. Her fist went into his face, temporarily blinding him. A blow to his chin nearly knocked him out, and he heard his teeth click while things went black around the edges. She reached out to grab the top of his armor, slipping two fingers inside to pull him close.

“To bad that little guy isn’t here.” An odd calmness came over her face, bringing an emotion to her eyes and a smirk to her face. “That might have been fun.”

“What is with you and that shrimp? What the hell did you do to him on that road?!”

The android just laughed and pushed back more hair with one hand. “Take off that stupid outfit. Maybe you can leave this desert alive?”

“I’d prefer to die than lay with you.”

She pouted, mockingly, before breaking up with laughter. “Oh, we won’t lay together. You’ll be the one laying. I’ll just sit on you.”

He pulled away, he would fly away, he would escape and never speak of this to anyone. No one would know of this proposition, him getting beaten again by this foolish tin can of a girl. Then he would go find that bald moron and shake him until he told the Saiyan what exactly had happened while they’d all been unconscious.

Her fingers did a funny move, gold ki spiraling out to grab him and pull him down as though they were weights. No matter how he struggled, they refused to budge.

Wrapped around his wrists and ankles, holding him in place on the dry rocky ground, the ki glowed in the corner of his eyes. Something dug into his spine. Vegeta powered up, thinking to break the earth beneath him. The android took that option away from, planting her booted foot hard into his stomach. She left a dusty print on his white armor.

“Oh no. I’m sick of you acting so cocky, so sure that you’re better than everyone else. I’m going to show you how wrong you are.”

She did actually sit on him, back turned to his face. Like she didn’t even want to look at him. One small slim hand went behind her to hold his chin. The other hand went to struggle with his armor that Bulma had made him. Bitching when the size didn’t come out right, and why was he so short anyway, why couldn’t he be taller and bigger like Goku, and damnit, stop struggling so much. Finally, she pulled down and ripped at the lower half of his clothes.

“No underwear. But also no stick up your ass. Shocking.”

He didn’t think things could get worse. Then she moved on top of him, stroking him with her smooth palm, rubbing his penis in-between her legs. But he couldn’t get hard over this too thin, too blonde imitation of a woman. One hand covered his mouth, a tingle of ki always there. Her mouth was opening, swallowing thickly, whispering something with passion and lust.

“Oh, you stupid bald fuck.”

“You’re so lucky that Juurokugou was there.”

“If Juunanagou and I were left alone with you, I’d totally fuck you so hard you’d sprout a nose. Just to piss my little brother off.”

A gentle huff. “The next time I get you by yourself, I’m going to grind you into the cement, or in that stupid pink house.”

Vegeta slammed his head against the rock beneath him. Over and over again. Wishing that he’d killed that midget on Namek, on Earth, that the midget had killed him on Namek, on Earth. Just one swipe of the sword, or plant it into his back, or one ki blast taken too far. The smallest touch of empathy came to him, ridiculously for that shrimp that now had a common bond with the Saiyan. They should probably both have died earlier, and never been wished back.

Then they would have been spared from this monster.
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Mercy