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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
((w00t! Chapter 2 is up! Gah, writing rape is depressing me, but give it another chapter or so and you�ll see visible results of romance! Actually, there�s a tiny, tiny hint of romance in this chapter towards the end; read carefully, you�ll see what I mean. ~_^ I promise on my ability to write that this will eventually be a cute romance, because I don�t think I could bear a pure rape fic, partirly rly with a Y/V pairing. And thank you to all my reviewers who have given enough effort to type out a sentence to prod me along update-wise. Sorry if the going is a little slow, but with all my school work and the eight other fics I�m typing out for other sites, updates may be a little slow. But I�ve made this and my other fic here priority, so I can get them out of the rape stages and into theht oht of romance! Well, enough rambling, just R&R and get on with your lives!))

****

During the night, around about 1:15am, Yamcha�s eyes snapped opened suddenly. His ears picked up the sound of a door slamming down the hall. The front door. He got a really bad feeling, a certain emotion of impending doom. It was like an icy trickle down his spine, giving way to a fluttering sensation in his stomach. He turned around onto his back and sat up, despite the throbbing pain he felt at the base of his spine. He heard soft footsteps echo from the other room. A single shadow drifted along the hallway, and then a blocky dark shape stepped into the pale light given off by the moon, starting down towards his room. As it stepped into the full light of the moon that bounced in through one of the windows, Yamcha was struck by a horrible fear that gripped his heart, tugging away at it. The brief flash of moonlight highlighted all Yamcha needed to see. The short stature, the near-vertical ebony hair, and the dipping widow�s peak; it could only mean one thing...

"Vegeta..." he rasped, his voice hardly a whisper.

But why...? Why is Vegeta here? Didn�t he already have enough of mami,ami, save me...

The shadow grew in size and morphed out of proportion as it drew near. Yamcha dropped back down and rolled onto his stomach, but than better re-thought his move and rolled on to his back in order to protect his ass from any impending assault. He winced as his body�s weight transferred to his backside, but he bit down on his lip, hissing slightly when he reopened an old wound. He yanked the blankets over his head just as the shadowed figure stepped into the room. He tried to act like he was asleep, but he doubted the violent shaking of his body was very reassuring. The covers were suddenly torn off him, yet he still held his eyes squinted shut. He slowly opened them, only to be greeted by the sight of a very frustrated-looking saiyajin prince. Vegeta threw the blanket behind him, grabbing Yamcha by the shoulder and lifting him up crookedly. Yamcha lost all posture and looked at Vegeta, his dark eyes riddled with fear. Vegeta looked at the miserable human clutched in his hand with contempt. Yamcha was shaking, still petrified, but somehow managed to speak.

"Wh-what d-do you w-want? I thought you w-were done with me." he stammered.

"Quit your damn stammering! You sound like you have a speech impediment." He paused a moment, and then smirked. "Now, even you should be brighter than that..."

"That what?" he squeaked.

"You should know that one sexual encounter a day is by no means going to hold me off. What is wrong with your head? Do you not understand the concept of a heat cycle? You know, this is the time when sexual tensions are at their peak!" he spat, quite literately yelling the last part into Yamcha�s ear.

Yamcha flinched in fear, looking at Vegeta in horror. Vegeta snarled and threw Yamcha down, giving him a hefty kick in the tailbone. Yamcha screamed in pain, grabbing his sore rump in anguish. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block out reality.

"Get up on your knees." he barked.

Yamcha pushed himself up, wondering just what Vegeta was talking about. He heard Vegeta fumbling with his belt buckle, followed by the soft thump of his pants hitting the ground. Yamcha felt his arms go weak, and his stomach lurched. With a powerful flick of his wrist, Vegeta dispatched Yamcha�s pants, tearing them at the waistband and leg seams. He took Yamcha�s now-bare, voluptuous thighs into his hands, ing ing his lips. Yamcha was panicking inwardly, but was too scared to make a move. If he ran, Vegeta would catch him, beat him down, and rape him anyways. He felt a slight pressure in his ass as Vegeta began to enter him.

"Vegeta...please...the old wounds haven�t even begun to heal...just give me some time..." he pleaded, becoming increasingly frantic.

Vegeta laughed devilishly and plunged in, ripping back open the old wounds as easily as he had ripped the pajama pants. Yamcha screamed loudly, his arms giving. His face slammed into the floor, his mouth taking in a gulp of carpet. Vegeta wound his fingers tightly in Yamcha�s dark hair, pulling him back up. Yamcha put down his arms again, his fingers just barely brushing the floor. Vegeta slammed his face down forcefully, causing his nose and forehead to bounce off the floor. Yamcha pushed himsup, up, trying to support his weak and tired body. Vegeta eased his cock out to the tip and then plunged back in, striking deeper with every thrust. The familiar red blood began to leak out, and the even more familiar stabbing pain began to return with a vengeance. Yamcha winced, tears gushing out the corners of his eyes. He dropped down on his elbows, growing more and more tired by the moment. Ve sli slipped a bit mid-thrust, digging deeper into Yamcha than he intended. A new angry flow of blood gushed out, pooling on the carpet with the rest of the blood. Vegeta grunted and drew out, and for a moment, Yamcha thought it was over. Wrong. Vegeta grabbed Yamcha by the throat, standing up and dragging the weakened human with him. He growled, bringing his knee up arduously into Yamcha�s crotch. Yamcha wheezed, wincing as fresh waves of pain crashed through his system. For a moment, he felt like he was going to hurl. But all that came up was dry heaves. Good thing, too. It probably wouldn�t be the best thing to do right about now. Vegeta glared into Yamcha�s eyes, full of pent-up rage and lust.

"What the hell are you doing, you faggot???" he screamed, shaking Yamcha. "Can�t you even hold your own body weight up???"

"I have to hold your body weight up too, unless you�ve forgotten!!! And who the fuck are you calling a faggot? You�re the one raping me!!!" he screamed back.

Even bigger mistake. Vegeta tightened his grip on Yamcha�s throat, making it impossible to breathe. There was a slight crackling sound as the veins popped out on Vegeta�s hand. Yamcha wheezed and puffed, wriggling around as he tried to escape the death grip he was in.

"You have some nerve, earth scum. Who do you think you are? I�d mind my manners if I were you. Now get down on all fours and behave like a good little pet." he said calmly.

He spun Yamcha around and cast him to the ground. Yamcha forced himself up on his hands and knees again, just praying for something to strike him down. But nothing did. He screamed under the heavy burden and utter blinding pain, squeezing his eyes shut to block out the pain. Another ragged thrust jerked his eyes open, as he screamed aloud, his arms shaking. But if he gave out again... He didn�t even want to think of what Vegeta could and would do to him. Vegeta�s body began to get warmer and a power field flashed around his body. He was nearing his climax. His hair exploded in a flash of saffron light as he once again became more violent in his actions. Yamcha couldn�t hold himself up anymore and went crashing to the floor. Vegeta seemed to shrug off the change of height this time, like he was expecting it to happen. He kept up with his jagged thrusts, every movement causing Yamcha to pray for a quick death. He opened his eyes slowly, tears blurring his vision. His eyes drifted to the open door, the golden light emanating from Vegeta panning out into the hallway. He caught something illuminated in the light, a small cike ike shadow. Pu�ar.

She was floating there, a stunned and horrified expression painted across her whiskered face. Yamcha looked at her with pleading eyes and extended an arm out towards her, blood from the puddle on the floor dappling his muscles. Pu�ar shook her head, drifting backwards and away. Vegeta seemed not to notice her and went on with his merry business. He thrust his hips, gritting his teeth together at the sheer tightness of his vessel. He cast his head back suddenly and screamed lustfully, spasming into Yamcha�s battered body. His hair lost its golden luster and his aura dissipated, darkness rushing in to fill in the room. He heaved a sigh and then walked back around, stepping into his pants and pulling them up over his narrow hips. He smiled devilishly at the pitiful creating laying on the ground. He met Yamcha�s watery stare with a smile of pure evil. He strode over to the man and crouched down near him, stroking his hair with his left hand, lifting his chin up with the right.

"Good boy. I�ve almost got you trained. But that was tolerable for tonight. Maybe we�ll see how good you are tomorrow night, after some r&quo" he purred.

Tomorrow? Oh god, no. Please...Yamcha�s mind wailed.

Tomorrow wasn�t an option. He would have a slight rest, but it would take at least a week for him to heal somewhat. He looked up at Vegeta and swallowed deeply, knowing he was going to regret this.

"Please...Vegeta...tomorrow isn�t an option. I...I won�t be healed then. Give me a week and I�ll do better..." he begged, nearly breaking down into tears.

Vegeta sighed and lifted Yamcha up by the throat so they were eye-to-eye. Vegeta put on a look of mock sympathy, which quickly twisted into an angry snarl. He raised his hand and slapped him powerfully across the face.

"You are asking me for requests? What a naughty pet you are. You perform well, but your behavior is just not up to scratch." he said, taking hold of Yamcha�s face. "Naughty, naughty." he lectured.

"I can do better!" Yamcha said, making a frantic plea. "If you let me rest, it will be so much better!"

He let Yamcha drop to the floor and turned away, casting open the window. He sat down on the edge and threw one last glance at Yamcha. "I don�t think so. Tomorrow night. End of story." he said.

He dropped out of the window and landed below, disappearing into the bleak night. Yamcha pushed himself painfully up off the floor. The blood-soaked carpet squelched beneath his feet as he painfully shuffled across the room. He picked up his robe that was lying across the foot of his bed and threw it on loosely. He wasn�t too fond of robes, but he didn�t feel like having pajamas around his waist tonight. He limped out down the hall and into the living room. He sat down gingerly on the couch, wincing as the pressure of his body weight bore down on his rump. Pu�ar was sitting at the end, looking blankly ahead.

"Pu�ar..." he uttered. "Why didn�t you help?"

She looked at him tearfully. "What could I have done?" she whimpered. "It was Vegeta! I panicked...." she sobbed. Yamcha reached out his hand to stroke her, but she shrunk away, looking at him with horror.

"N-nani?" he asked quizzically.

"It�s too much, Yamcha. Seeing you and Vegeta...the pain on your face...I just can�t take it anymore. Your problems are just too much for me to bare."

"No�we bare them together..."

"I�m sorry Yamcha. I can�t...I can�t be around you. The depression; maybe that I could take. I could help you through that. But this...this rape thing...is just too much. The trauma from seeing you get...you know... Just try and understand."

"No! I can�t! Don�t leave me, Pu�ar. You�re the only one keeping me going."

"Maybe...it would be better..."

"How can you say that??? How???" he screamed, tears beginning to pour down his face. He wept openly, taking in large gulps of air in between sobs. "Please don�t leave me...." he whimpered softly.

"I�m...leaving...tonight." she concluded. "I was going to leave in the morning, but I think I�ll now. I...it will be less painful that way."

"Please Pu�ar...I...you..."

She said nothing, but hovered up and turned her back. She drifted over to the door, pushing it open. She turned her head back, casting one long, tearful glance at Yamcha before disappearing into the night.

Yamcha whimpered once, and then dragged a sleeve across his eyes. He stood up stiffly, looking at the shut door. He didn�t need her. He was better off without her. Then it hit him; that was the exact same thoughts he had when Bulma left him. He dropped to his knees, tears welling up again. Everyone left him for one reason or another, either he had too many problems, it wasn�t safe, he wasn�t good enough, or he was flawed in some way, shape, or form. But it was always his fault. Even if the sentence started out �It�s not your fault but...�, it always ended up being his fault. It didn�t matter if it really was or not, everything could be traced back to him, apparently. It was like he didn�t deserve to live among them. Yamcha felt a small smile spreading across his face. It was so simple; why had he not thought of it before? If they didn�t want him around, he could take himself out of their life. All it would take was a sharp knife. And it would save his rear end from being further violated by Vegeta. He let a small laugh pass his lips as he stood up painfully, trudging out to the kitchen. He slid open the drawer, selecting a particularly sharp-looking knife.

He took a shaky breath and pressed the blade against his wrist. The cool steel felt relaxing against the fevered skin of his wrists. He pressed down against the veins cutting through the supple flesh, a crimson tide of blood welling up in the wake of the silver brand. Yamcha became fascinated by the appearance of the scarlet line standing strikingly against his paling skin, and used the tip of the knife to cut intricate patterns of red into his wrist. He felt a sudden weakness as his body began to suffer from the after-effects of losing so much blood, and brought the knife over to the other wrist to finish the job. He slumped down, dropping the knife beside him, and closed his eyes, letting his consciousness float away on the ebb tide of death.

~*~

Vegeta�s eyes snapped open suddenly as the soft ping of a fading Chi roused him from his sleep. Next to him, Bulma lay like a rock; her back turned defiantly towards Vegeta. The saiyajin prince sat up in the dark, swinging his legs around over the edge of the bed. He stood up, taking wide strides to the window across the room from the big double bed he shared with Bulma. He fumbled with the latch, and the thought of blowing the glass pane to bits crossed his mind once or twice. But if he woke that damned woman up, he would have to go through an hour-long interrogation before he was able to even leave. True, he could just leave, but then, upon his return, she would harass and pester him even worse; so much so that he probably wouldn�t get much sleep. He finally managed to undo the latch and stuck his head out the window, letting the cool night air tickle his face. The Chi was virtually nonexistent now, and normally, Vegeta would give a damn about someone dying. It wasn�t his business. But this Chi... it was familiar.

"Son of a bitch..." he uttered lowly.

He reached back and grabbed something off the bedside table and then bolted back to the open window, vaulting over the sill; falling down a few feet before catching himself and floating the rest of the way down. His bare feet touched the cool earth and he was off. That bastard, he thought to himself, is so not getting off this easy...

He was at the human�s house in five seconds flat. He blasteen ten the door, stepping inside the small domicile, his slight ghostly aura illuminating the dark house. He stepped into the kitchen, his pale glow casting an eerie shadow over his face.

He caught sight of a figure slumped in the corner and approached it. He dropped into a squat, glaring at the human. Vegeta sighed, irritated, and lifted the pitiful human up, carrying him into the living room and depositing him rather unceremoniously on the couch as he took care of the man�s bleeding wrists. He pulled a Senzu out of his pajama pocket, glad he had grabbed the small bean off his nightstand. He crawled up on top of the human, straddling his frail body as he pulled Yamcha�s mouth open, forcing the Senzu into his mouth. He rubbed at Yamcha�s throat, forcing him to swallow. There was a soft hum as the bean took effect. Sure enough, the deep gouges on Yamcha�s wrists stopped bleeding and slowly faded away, the only evidence he had ever been hurt being the deep crimson bloodstains on his pajama cuffs. The scarred warrior slowly opened his eyes, revealing his lackluster dark pools.

~*~

The first sight Yamcha saw was a blurry, black and spiky shape, leaving him slightly puzzled and disoriented. But as his vision began to clear, he realized what he was staring at. Vegeta was sitting on his chest in his pajamas, glaring at him something fierce. Yamcha felt an icy terror grip his heart as he registered the fact. His eyes snapped open and a scream ripped free of his throat as he thrashed about, trying to get Vegeta off him. The Oji growled and wrapped his hands around Yamcha�s throat.

"Shut up and stop your infernal thrashing!!!" he barked at Yamcha. The human paused, looking up at Vegeta with horror.

"What�? Where�? Am I in Hell or something? Cause if this is some cosmic joke, I�m not laughing!" he said, voice cracking with fear.

"You aren�t in hell, and this is no joke. You are alive. I found your damned body bleeding in a corner and fed you a Senzu. You should be damn grateful." Vegeta explained through clenched teeth.

Yamcha�s eyes narrowed to angry slits. "What. The. HELL??? WHY???" he screamed, glaring up at the Oji with untamed rage. "Why did you save me??? I wanted to die!!! That was sort of the point of me committing suicide!!!" he yelled.

Tears began to well up in his eyes; hot tears of anger. Anger caused by the fact he had to suffer through this hell; anger that Vegeta had the nerve to feed him a Senzu just so he had to suffer, and then tell him he should be grateful. Then the sorrow began to ebb. He had to live. The tears poured down his face as he took deep, sobbing breaths. He had to suffer. Alone. It just wasn�t fair.

Vegeta was silent, just looking at Yamcha with the same wry glare before dismounting him and turning away.

"Why? Because... you stupid beast," he added, somewhat forcibly, "You are no use to me dead."

He began to walk away, most likely heading home. Yamcha forced himself up and off the couch, getting up to chase after Vegeta. he wanted nothing more than to just smack him upside the head right now. Screw the consequences; he needed to clobber something. But he didn�t get that far. The minute he stood up and tried to take a step, his knees gave out and he fell, hitting the livingroom floor with a thud. He propped himself up, staring at the Oji�s back. Vegeta paused for a moment, standing still before he spoke.

"You are never alone, human." he said flatly. He resumed his slow strides and disappeared out the door, the loud bang snapping Yamcha out of his daze.

He lay tiredly on the floor, playing those last few minutes of his newly-regained consciousness over and over again, like a broken record. There was something in Vegeta�s voice when he had said those words; �you�re not alone.� What was it? An emotion? Pity? Yamcha shook his head side to side, clearing his mind of such fantasies. No, he had to have been imagining it. Vegeta was just as emotionless as ever when he had said that. it was a threat; Vegeta would be keeping a closer eye on him. It was his way of saying �don�t try the suicide stunt again; I have my eye on you.� Yamcha shivered and curled up into a fetal position. This was just all too much for him; so much was happening so fast. Becoming Vegeta�s sex slave; Pu�ar leaving him; it seemed like nothing was going right for him. So he did the only thing he could do; he cried weakly, lulled to sleep by his own sobs.

****

((Crappy ending to the chapter, I know. -dodges trash hurtled by angry readers- I�m having a bit of a brain droop as of late, but rest assured It�ll get better. And I just found out in English the origin of the word �fuck�. It meant, back in the days of Anglo-Saxon, to stab or to penetrate. So, saying fuck you was like a threat to stab someone. Hmmm.... And putting the definition with the sexual meaning...it makes sense, yes? Back then, it wasn�t a bad word, but when the Norman invaders came, Anglo-Saxon words were �swear words� and thus it was set that the f-word , along with many other modern day cusses, were outlawed as naught words. Well, enough off-topic history for now (and ever). REMEMBER: drop me a review! I thrive off reviews! See ya next chapter! ~Kuro-chan, she is a review whore~))
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Vegeta\'s Pet