I Hate Being Right

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonball Z or any of the characters. They are all from Akira Toriyama’s imaginative mind and I am merely writing my own non-profit fanfiction for my own sick pleasure.

Ch. 2

It took about an hour for all feeling to come back to his body, but much to his dismay there was no energy to be called upon. Whatever had been in those needles dampened his ki so he could not use it. And now, here he was, chained pathetically to a chair and blindfolded.

Vegeta could hear muffled voices from behind a closed door, but other than that, there were no sounds of vehicles or machinery or noises of the city that he had grown used to. The prince was sitting at an odd angle. He was on some sort of large chair, wooden perhaps, but his rear-end was supported by nothing. His muscular legs were pulled far apart and he found his upper thighs resting upon what seemed to be the armrests of the chair. His butt sank somewhat, but his back was propped up straight against the back of the chair. To add to his uncomfortable position, his ankles were clamped to the chair by what felt long large, metal cuffs, his booted toes barely scraping the floor. His knees were already groaning in protest at the strangely bent angle, but the prince could do nothing to prevent it.

His gloved hands were bound behind, lying against the backside of the chair. With a rattle here and there, Vegeta could tell that it was actually chains that dug into his blue spandex-covered wrist, and as his fingers traveled about the imprisoned area, he realized that the tight fitting restrains traveled far down to the ground. The “cuffs” were actually a large jumble of chains, one long strand piercing into the ground and holding his arms in place.

With his knees and elbows already aching, Vegeta shifted in the uncomfortable chair, but it was no use. He would not be feeling any relief as long as he was there. But, the prince was not panicked yet. He had been in much worse situations and always came out alive. He needed clues as to where he was and who had captured him and make plans from there.

Still, remembering the haunting, threatening words from his enemies that kidnapped him, Vegeta’s stomach began to sink. He hoped that their plan in the automobile he’d been in earlier was just a cruel way of taunting him, making he believe that they’d have their way with him…but something deep down told him that he was in for a troubled time ahead. Vegeta wasn’t going to deny it; he’d been in situations like this before. Being under the sick watch of Frieza and his companions hadn’t made life easy for the young saiyajin and he began to feel a sick dread begin to rise within him.

There was a creak of a door and Vegeta tuned in his hearing to the best of his abilities. Although he was lacking his power, he still had his saiyajin senses. He took in the smells and sounds that had just entered the room and remained still, his dark eyes blinking under the black blindfold.

“Ahhh…what a lovely sight,” the same deep voice from before boomed.

There was a crack of knuckles and the bound saiyajin felt a change in pressure as the strangers circled around him. He remained silent; his head bowed and arms tense. A finger traced along his scapula and ran down his spine, but Vegeta repressed a shudder from the touch.

“Tough guy, eh?” A young voice muttered.

Feeling an anger beginning to burn within his chest Vegeta bared his teeth and growled low in his throat. The people around him laughed at his attempt of intimidation, but still the finger traced along his shoulders and soon down his chest. As the wandering fingers drew lower and lower past his pectoral muscles, past his stomach, and near his covered dick, Vegeta tried to pull away, his body strength alone making the chair wobble.

“Who are you? What do you want?” He snapped, not meaning to sound to panicked.

The hand stopped and lifted, but Vegeta’s body still remained tense.

“All in due time, Prince. We still have so much to do.”

The saiyajin heard some footsteps back away, but they soon returned. There was slight pressure at his hip and the clicking, sliding sound of metal. Dread soon filled his body as he felt cool air suddenly hit lower abdomen. They were cutting the lower part of his bodysuit off. With the soft tearing sound of his fabric being sawed through, Vegeta tried to flinch away, but his ankles were securely fastened below and the chair itself was clearly attached to the floor.

“This is some weird material,” the young voice commented. He must have been the one cutting. “My pocket knife can barely get through it.”

“But it’s so thin,” a new voice chirped. “I wish he’d struggle more, it’d give me good ideas to write down.”

Biting back an angry retort, Vegeta trembled on his anger, his body visibly shaking with rage.

“I think you guys made him mad,” the deep voice mused.

The three voices chuckled and with one final snip, the “pants” of Vegeta’s blue under-suit slid off. The cold air within his prison licked at his legs and he could not repress a shiver. There was a sharp rip as the person kneeling at his legs tore the cut material from the shackles that held his ankles. Vegeta sat on the chair, his face suddenly burning, as he knew the three persons were now eyeing his uncovered lower half.

“So…is that a thong?” One of strangers asked.

“Dirty boy,” another added.

The idiots laughed and Vegeta felt his skin grow even redder at their insinuating, snide comments. He heard footsteps as they drew very near and he could not stop the large flinch of surprise as a large hand gripped the material covering his private areas.

“What is this, Saiyajin?” The deeper voice asked curiously as his large fingers rubbed the material. “Strange feel to it.”

“He’s a bitch who likes to wear girl’s clothes,” the wild, unusual voice laughed.

“It’s not a thong, you morons,” Vegeta snapped, his mouth upturned and growling. “It’s the undergarments of a saiyajin warrior, much like those codpieces humans wear.”

There was a moment of silence before the three began laughing at the helpless saiyajin. Vegeta felt his body shake from the outright disrespect and humiliation he was suffering.

“Looks like a thong to me,” the larger man said as he knelt behind the prince, his hands reaching under the bottomless chair. He gripped the narrow back of the dark underwear and pulled. “Same stretchy material as his spandex outfit. I’m guessing it’s as tough, too.”

“Tougher,” Vegeta ground out as the man behind him slowly began to pull the protective strap higher and higher up his ass-crack.

There was an amused chuckle and larger man let the strap go. The darkened material snapped harshly against Vegeta’s skin, the elastic clothing slamming into the saiyajin’s tail scar. Vegeta let out a pained gasp and the three tormentors giggled with amusement.

“Look how high this thong rides on his hips,” one of the younger voics examined.

It was true, though. The dark garment was skin tight and narrow, covering only what needed to be covered during battle. The narrow lines of the piece rode high on Vegeta’s bony hips and perfectly rested along his gluteus furrow, making the underwear comfortable and stable. But these fools didn’t understand that. Instead they mocked and teased, trying to humiliate the prince even more with their ignorance.

“He’s got a scar right here,” the deep voice behind him observed. Vegeta flinched as a large finger traced the sensitive, circular scar where his tail once was.

The three were silent for a moment as they contemplated this and Vegeta heard a snap of fingers.

“He had a tail, remember,” the crackly voice of one of the young beings said. “He and the bigger guy, they had tails.”

“Ok, dude, we remember,” the other young voice said, his words coming out warningly and careful. Clearly they didn’t want Vegeta to figure out who or what they were.

Vegeta heard a scratching of pencil on paper as one of the people further away wrote something down.

“He…had a tail…” the voice read as he wrote. “Hey, Saiyajin…is that sensitive?”

“Fuck you.”

The larger being behind him suddenly ground his thumb into the off-colored scar and Vegeta writhed in his chair. Trying to bite back his moans of fiery pain, Vegeta’s back arched and his head twisted back as he gasped for air.

“Guess so,” the younger voice mocked. “God, this is gonna be the best book ever.”

The finger stopped grinding into his sensitive skin and Vegeta slouched forward, though, not too much since the chains around his wrists were connected to the ground. Blinking through the darkness, Vegeta regained his breath as the pain slowly subsided into a dull throb.

“He….twined…his fingers into the monkey-alien’s soft…slick tail. With his…strong...fingers…he massaged the app…endage before-“

“What are you doing?” Vegeta hissed.

“Our friend here is an erotic writer. He can only be inspired while actually watching these things done, so you’re the subject matter this week.”

Feeling his anger explode, Vegeta suddenly flung himself against his restraints. His teeth clenched and his muscles screamed in pain as he writhed in the chair.

“I’m not just some puppet, some object to be used like this!” Vegeta roared. “I’m going to fucking kill you all when I’m out of this!”

“Whoa, calm down, dude. You might as well enjoy it while you can. You’re spazzing out.”

Vegeta blinked through the blindfold before struggling even more. Throwing curses at the people who held him, he threatened them with horrid deaths and tortures they couldn’t believe. But even as he spat at them with rage, his mind gathered more clues to this situation. The way these people spoke was very human. The “dudes” and slang used was definitely commonplace on Earth. But that just made this situation so much worse. Two of the people didn’t even sound like they were twenty yet, and by the way they spoke, they were just playing around with him, trying to humiliate him in the worse way. It would be a most terrible, and dishonoring thing if the prince of all saiyajins, second most powerful being in the universe…had been captured by possibly drunken and stoned teenagers.

But for what purpose? The saiyajin knew that there were hundreds of people out in the universe seeking revenge on him for atrocious deeds…but these fools hadn’t given him a reason as to why he was their victim. They knew he was a saiyajin and that he was a prince, but so far they seemed to only want to embarrass and harass him. Stupid humans.

The large man behind him found the back of his strap again and began to pull, as if seeing how far the undergarment could stretch. Vegeta sensed the man stand up and take a few steps backwards, the back of his narrow underwear clenched firmly in his large hand.

“Dude, look how far it’s going!” The raspy voice of the writer cackled. This earned a laugh from all three and Vegeta shifted as the front of the undergarment dug into his pelvis.

“You ready for this?” the big man crowed.

He released the strap and the room resonated with the resounding snap of the stretchy material on Vegeta’s skin. The narrow strap once again collided with his tail spot and Vegeta threw his head back with a strangled gasp. His whole backside felt on fire and his stomach clenched from the burning sting.

The three fools laughed for quite some time as Vegeta hunched over, his shoulders shaking from the rage that swept through him. He clenched his teeth, but said nothing, not wanting to give these idiots the satisfaction. Finally their cackles subsided and the large man’s hand rested on his shoulder.

“Can we use the golden dagger now?” One of the younger men whined.

The larger man removed his hand from Vegeta’s shoulder and walked away. “Hold on. HE might want to see this and I don’t know if he’s back yet.”

Vegeta listened as the larger being galloped from the room. The door was opened again and Vegeta could hear the sound of large footsteps pounding up some stairs. It grew strangely quiet in the cold room, but the saiyajin could pick up the faint sounds of voices beyond the walls that surrounded him.

“So…uh…do you think this will be your big seller, Rich?”

“Hello? Names!”

“Oh shit!”

So, the writer was named Rich? Vegeta hoped that this information would help him, but it only proved that he was, indeed, kidnapped by mere humans. Now he just needed to figure out why.

He heard the sound of footsteps again, heavy and loud and then the door being opened. Vegeta’s stomach churned as the expecting silence dragged on. He could even sense the younger humans’ excitement toward the news the larger man was bringing.

“He’s up there at the viewing window. We can use it.”

There was a startling cheer that caused the bound prince to jump slightly and instantly he felt himself surrounded by the three fools. But what had the larger man said? Viewing window? Feeling his stomach churn even more, Vegeta grimaced at the fact that a whole room of people could be watching this! Biting his lower lip, Vegeta remained silent as his undergarment was stretched and suddenly cut, revealing his entire package.

There was a low whistle of amusement and Vegeta growled out an angry response. A large hand gripped his narrow chin and made his face turn toward him. Though Vegeta could not see, he could imagine the look of satisfaction on the large man’s face.

“It’s going to be a tough road from here on out, you pretty thing. I know we’re going to have fun with you.”

And to this, Vegeta could only think to do one thing. Leaning forward quickly, the saiyajin spat in the man’s face, knowing it hit him directly.