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.

*-Thanks to those of you who are reading and reviewing: Little_Bitch, Kailover2006, Majin Gemma, Calico Soneji, and Saiyanb. It makes me happy. And yes, you will notice the lack of female characters (Bulma especially) in this story. It was originally written just for yaoi gallery, a site that doesn't really allow female characters a large part in artwork or fanfiction, seeing as it's a yaoi site, so I am trying to write a purely male based story. Sorry if it was a bit odd. I hope it turns out ok! *crosses fingers. Thanks again!

Ch. 3

Vegeta could hear the splat of his spit hit the larger man directly in the face. Even from under the blindfold Vegeta could hear the strangled gasp of outrage. The room was silent for a moment except for the building rage of the man before the bound prince, and then something painfully powerful slammed into the helpless saiyajin’s face.

In an instant pain engulfed his weakened frame as the beast of a man rammed his large fist into Vegeta’s body, the force of the human practically breaking skin and forcing air from his lungs. Through the agonizing onslaught of pain, Vegeta could hear the man roaring, his loud voice booming off the wall in the cold room. The other two men were pulling at him, trying to keep their friend from killing the prince too quickly.

“Bruce! Bruce, stop it!” The writer screamed.

Ignoring his ally, the giant known as Bruce continued his enraged assault on Vegeta’s smaller frame.

“I’ll kill you! Monkey-tailed piece of shit!” Bringing back his large fist once again, he hit Vegeta in the side of his face so hard that the chair splintered. Vegeta’s thighs screamed in agony as his body was flung to side, his left foot free from the shackle that bound him to the chair.

But even as he fell, Bruce leapt on him, his hands busy finding the vulnerable places to injure on the restrained saiyajin. Ripped from his seated position on the wooden chair, Vegeta let out a shrill holler of pain, as his right ankle remained shackled to the leg of the chair. His body landed on the ground and his foot twisted in awkward position, still elevated slightly and firmly attached to his previous sitting spot. The pained saiyajin’s hands were twisted uncomfortably behind him, the chain still attached to the hard, cold ground.

When he fell, the blindfold had been loosened and another fist to the face sent it fluttering from his head. Through tears blurred and hazy with blood and sweat, Vegeta could make out the face of a monstrously large man, his black eyes squinted with rage and his teeth bared as his large hands gripped the front of Vegeta’s torn blue shirt.

“Bruce!” The writer, Rich screamed again, his smaller hand pulling on his wild friend’s shoulder.

“He’s not Bruce right now, man!” The other warned. “General Hikaru! Please, the boss doesn’t want him harmed this badly. General Hikaru, please….please follow orders and allow the prisoner some relief,” the smaller man behind him spoke slowly.

Vegeta’s head pounded and his body cried out in agony as the strong human slapped his face harshly, his cheek splitting from the force. The man managed to calm himself slightly, his breath still coming out in ragged pants from his rage. The large hands still gripped the front of his shirt and with a vicious tug the blue material was torn. Ripping and tearing, the man growled impatiently as he tore the rest of Vegeta’s bodysuit from his torso, leaving a few blue shreds tucked under the tight chains around his wrists.

From underneath his throbbing, pained body and mind, Vegeta felt his humiliation return full blast. He was lying completely naked on the cold, gray concrete floor, his gloves and boots still on. He could not imagine how badly he must look, his face and body bleeding and bruised as he lay helplessly before these torturous beings. Vegeta was mindful not to move, knowing that any jarring of his twisted, possibly broken ankle, would cause extreme pain, though the appendage was throbbing in agony already. His shoulders were tense with discomfort as he lay on his right arm, both limbs stretched behind him as they were attached to the floor. Blinking blood from his eye, Vegeta coughed up a clump of blood as the two smaller humans tried to calm the larger one down.

“Little piece of shit,” Vegeta heard the Bruce/Hikaru man snarl to the others. “Spits in my face. I oughta kill him for that!” The wounded saiyajin flinched but remained facing away from the three. “For what he’s done to my soldiers he oughta be hung like the dirty animal he is and beaten to death!”

Soldiers? Vegeta thought through a hazy mind.

“Alright, Bruce. Calm down, buddy.”

“I am not Bruce! I am not a weak, sentimental queer like that guy! I am General Hikaru! And this saiyajin bastard killed my soldiers!”

Vegeta had heard this before many times. Obviously the man had been in charge of some force that had gotten in his way while he was on Earth. Whether it was actually a crime he committed or one that Nappa had done, Vegeta was going to take the blame. And he was certainly not going to beg for forgiveness or force the blame on another. He was an evil creature, and he knew that at times he would have to pay for his crimes. But, while he was subjected to whatever horrors were planned for him, he was going to be strong and remain in control.

Vegeta let out a low chuckle, his bare shoulders shaking as he smirked. The men behind him grew quiet and his dark eyes slid to the side.

“All this for some weak low-class humans who think they are warriors,” he mused through red teeth. “I can’t believe you’d let yourself get so worked up. Now if it were a planet I destroyed or an entire people, then I’d understand your want for revenge. But a few measly human soldiers…you should untie me and let me go…because they were no loss to the world.”

Vegeta could hear the heavy footsteps running at his unshielded back and he squeezed his eyes shut, knowing that his mouth had once again gotten him in trouble. Large hands gripped his shoulders roughly and spun him onto his back, causing his shackled ankle to chair to pop excruciatingly.

“YOU. HAVE. NO. IDEA. WHAT. IT’S. LIKE!!” The General shrieked as he slammed his bloody fist into Vegeta’s stomach and face with each word. “You stupid….you damn little bastard! Dirty piece…of….”

The man let out a crazed howl and began to slam Vegeta up and down into the concrete floor, his head banging against the ground with each incredible attack. His body screamed in agony as colorful stars burst in his vision. The saiyajin was barely aware of the guys behind the military man desperately trying to pull him off.

“Weak humans!” Vegeta managed to growl out through the furious attack. “Deserved it….cowardly idiots. All of you!”

The pain became worse as the beast-like man became blinded with rage. His hands were moving so fast they became blurs as he struck Vegeta with such a force he began to grow numb.

“Gag! Gag him, man!” The nameless character in the back cried in a panic. “Shut him up!”

The commotion grew louder as the two idiots in the back ran around like chickens with their heads cut off. One was trying to pull the crazed maniac off of Vegeta while the other stumbled forward, something in his hand.

Vegeta became aware of a palm under his bloody chin and something shoved into his mouth. His pained jaw was widened as a red ball was planted between his teeth and a tight black strap was placed around his head. The weight of the general was suddenly lifted and he heard the bellowing man run to the corner of the room. Through a swollen eye, Vegeta watched as the man stomped up to him, something shimmering and smooth in his hand.

“Hold on, B-Genral!” Rich cried. “Doesn’t the boss want this to be a bit more…er….erotic?”

“Shut up!” The giant yelled as he shoved the smaller form away. “Better get your pen and paper, because this is going to be a graphic moment.”

Vegeta tensed as the man breathed heavily over him, the large golden rod in his hand. Was this what they had mentioned before? The golden dagger?

Crouching at the bleeding saiyajin’s side, the crazed man waved a five-inch thick, thirteen-inch long rod before his dark eyes. The thing was smooth and glossy, reflecting Vegeta’s beaten and gagged face in front of him.

“You want this in you, Saiyajin?”

Automatically he shook his head no, a muffled noise escaping his throat. The dangerous ogre chuckled and scooted closer. His large burgundy lips smirked darkly and he brought his face close to Vegeta’s.

“Too bad.”

Moving around to the prince’s backend, General Hikaru brought his beefy arm back and took aim. Squeezing his eyes shut, Vegeta waited for the upcoming pain that he had experienced in his life long ago.

“Don’t you think we should use some lube or something?”

“Shut up!” Hikaru snapped.

Vegeta jerked as he felt the man’s sausage-like fingers trace his cheeks before parting them and sticking a finger inside. The saiyajin moaned in protest, but the jabbing finger proceeded deeper. Trying to squirm away, Vegeta could barely manage a minor movement due to his pained ankle and chained arms. On his side again, Vegeta tried to kick out with his left leg, his small foot clearly missing the probing man.

“This little shit doesn’t deserve lube. The tight little fuck is going to get it up the ass, and he’s going to like it, too.”

Vegeta tried to shout “Fuck you” to the bastard, but there was only a muffled choke instead. The beefy man withdrew his finger and leaned forward, his two fingers parting Vegeta’s entrance. The prince’s stomach dropped and he tried to kick out again. He felt the man behind him jerk with movement and he instantly felt the golden rod jammed into him. The dry, smooth edges clung to the sides of his crack, but the man pushed harder against Vegeta’s tense muscles.

He could not help the cries and groans of agony that escaped him as his flesh was pulled and twisted as the crazed man ground the thing in deeper. Was it even going anywhere? It felt like his skin inside was being pulled off and dragged along with the dry “dagger”.

“God, this is great!” Rich laughed.

Past the fiery pain Vegeta could hear the two in the back joking and laughing, probably writing down ideas for the story that they would create from his anguished moans. Trying to lift his leg higher and ease the pain that engulfed his anus, Vegeta began to feel himself become full. The golden rod still proceeded to enter him inch by inch. With all his might he tried to relax his tense muscles and allow the thing in so it would stop tearing at his skin. Deep within him he felt clogged up and heavy…but the pain was slowing. With one final harsh twist and shove, the beastly man above him sighed with satisfaction at a job well done. The whole thing was inside of him.

“How does it feel, Prince?” Hikaru laughed, flicking a large finger against the helpless saiyajin’s face. “I bet it hurt, didn’t it? You didn’t bleed as much as I thought, though. But wait ‘till after an hour or two when we get to play with you. I doubt there will be much left.”

“God…good stuff,” Rich crowed as he wrote quickly on a paper. Hikaru chuckled and nodded to his friend.

“It may not feel like much now,” he continued, his large fingers tapping the end of the base of the dildo up Vegeta’s ass. “But I think we’ll give you some time to get used to your friend. I’m sure a few hours alone with it will do you good.”

The saiyajin felt a fiery hatred burning within him and he growled furiously. He tried to thrash about, his leg rising to kick out again, but the mere movement was tough. The giant stick within him was already cramping his insides. And much to his horror, past the pain of the golden thing, a slight feeling of pleasure erupted each time he tried to shift or raise a leg.

No. He was not going to play their games. He was not going to let them feel satisfaction toward his weaknesses. He would be resilient and cold. No weak humans were going to trick him into enjoying this or beg for it. Let them play their games, he thought. And he would play his. No fear, no pleasure. He was a master of his emotions and of his stoic expression of indifference.

Peering into the ground, Vegeta bit the ball in his mouth fiercely. Cramps in his lower abdomen were already beginning, but he would show nothing. The three around him sighed and peered at the beaten form on the ground. Every once in a while Vegeta’s hands would tense up around the chains that held him, but he continued to glare a hole into the ground, his face remaining tense and cold.

“Hey…you guys hungry?” One of the younger men asked.

Vegeta could hear them all hum with agreement, and he was surprised to hear them turn to leave. Lifting up slightly on his sore shoulder, he glanced over to see them all heading toward the door. As they reached, they gave him one final look and chuckled.

“Have fun. We’ll be back sometime,” Rich laughed.

The saiyajin let out a huff of anger and they let out amused cackles as they left the room. The door swung shut behind them and Vegeta realized he was all alone. How long was he expected to lie there?

With his mind taken off the dangerous men, he was now able to register the full extent of his injuries. Every few seconds, shooting pain would run throughout his body, his muscles bruised, his skin torn and bleeding, and his bones bent or cracked. His ankle hurt the worse, but he was lucky that it wasn’t completely broken. The metal shackle that had restrained tilted slightly when he fell, but he was not free. His foot pointed down slightly while the rest of his leg was lying sideways. His face pounded from the attacking fist and his body was tense and sore. Even worse was the occasional pain that would begin pounding in his lower abdomen. He hadn’t gone to the bathroom in a while and the giant object up his anus was not helping. In an hour or two he was going to be in extreme pain.


The man upstairs watched the helpless being on floor. In his spacious cozy room, the man smirked as the saiyajin shifted, trying to get into a more comfortable position. But it was useless. The dumb beast hadn’t figured out that he was not going to be safe or comfortable anymore. He was nothing but an object now. The once-upon-a-time prince would be his until he grew bored with him. And even better, once the man he loved found out about this gift, he would have no choice but to leave that blue-haired bitch and be with him.

Smiling now, dark eyes blinked from behind large, black-framed glasses. Picking up his cell-phone, the figure in the darkened room peered at the injured alien down below through a very small, rectangular window. Dialing in a familiar number, the “boss” cleared his throat as he waited for the man he loved to pick up.

“Hello?” The rugged voice asked.

“Hey, Yamcha!”

“Hey dude! What’s up?”

“I was wondering if you wanted to chill tomorrow. I have something cool to show you.”

“Yeah! Do you want to meet in the gym like usual?”

The shadowy man hesitated. His heart was pounding as it always did while talking to the powerful being. Looking down through the window, the small figure’s eyes narrowed and his lips thinned into a firm line.

“Actually, do you want to meet me in front of the West City Park? How about at that fountain right in front of the woods?”

“Cool, dude. See you tomorrow…at…”

“10:00….AM.”

“Alright. See ya!”

“Bye, Yamcha.”

Flicking his cell-phone closed, the strange man licked his lips anxiously. His dark eyes swept across the motionless being on the disgusting floor below. His knuckles tensed up with hatred at the being that had done his loved one wrong.

“For you, Yamcha,” he whispered as he placed small fingers against the glass. “I do this…for you.”


*And that's it for this chapter. With finals being crazy for the next two weeks, I can't guarantee a quick update, unfortunately. But I'll try! Thanks again for reading and reviewing!-