Clarification

Pairing: Freeza x Vegeta, Implied Freeza x Zarbon
OTHER WARNINGS: Very graphic NC-17 rape lemon, joint dislocation/fractures, language, Freeza's POV for most of the fic, cuz I enjoy writing with the strange, slight British accent he has in the English dub ^_____^
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His legs seemed to grow heavy as he approached the door, which was open, of course. Zarbon stood to one side, his arms crossed as he leaned against the doorway. Vegeta’s face grew grim though Zarbon showed no sign that his displeasure affected him.

“He’s waiting in the main bedroom”, was his greeting.

Vegeta stopped, looking past Zarbon into the darkened chamber as if he could see down through the halls to confirm, then glared at him.

“I refuse to deliver myself to that maniac. If he wants me so fucking much, then let him come out here and…”

Zarbon finally looked up at him with a short, joyless smile and Vegeta trailed off at the fear painting his usually mocking features. The Saiyajin felt his throat constrict as Zarbon shook his head almost timidly.

“He’s upset”, Zarbon said softly, his eyes looking tired, “You shouldn’t have taken so long, Vegeta.”

It became a little difficult to breathe as Vegeta hesitated in the doorway, looking from Zarbon to the rooms behind him. Fear was just as present and strong as it had been when he had been a helpless child. The fact that he was grown did not alter it, if anything, made it worse. The servant looked at him pointedly after a moment.

“Go.”

The command felt like a death sentence. Anyway, a part of him would die each time. Vegeta held his hands as fists at his sides, then summoned enough courage to enter, walking into the darkness.
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Freeza’s POV:

I can sense him. Smell him. Indecision hovering delicately like his outstretched fingers above my door handle.

“Get in here.”

The command is soft though I know he hears me. And what else can he do but obey? I can hear a pause in his already unsteady breathing and then the doors are violently kicked open, slamming against the wall. Such an adorable display of bravery. He looks this way and that, like something hunted seeking out its predator.

Immediately, he shoots off the ground, arms raised before him defensively. As if that could protect him against me.

I don’t have time for this, unfortunately. Little bastard’s made me wait all day.

“Shut the door.”

That gives away my position, not that it matters. He whips around in mid-air, kicking the door shut with such force that the building shakes, then turns around towards the sound of my voice, believing himself ready to face me. He never really is, as is the case now.

No more than half a second later, he’s already flying up from the blow, clutching his bruised stomach with all that needed air knocked out of him. Before he hits the wall, he puts his arms out to the sides to stop himself from the impact but I snatch him, and guide us upwards. Together we hit the corner of the ceiling.

The mosaic decorating my ceiling is covered in painted, smiling little cherubs, pink wings outstretched behind each of them. It was stolen from somewhere, I forget, but I anchor my guest and myself by smashing my feet into it, fittingly destroying one unfortunate angel’s wings.

The shocked anguish on his pained face is delicious but fleeting as the ferocity of his anger takes over and he snarls at me like a trapped beast. Nevertheless, I easily have him restrained, turning him around so I can press against his fiery, struggling form. His boots scrape and kick against the wall but accomplish nothing.

Holding both of his wrists behind his back with one hand, he stiffens and his struggles increase as he finds his pants yanked down to his knees, the skin-tight shorts ripped off. His curses are simply dripping with fear. Such a dirty mouth.

“Late again, I see”, I reprimand my pet.

“You said to come when I was done!”, he spits out angrily though the tremor in his voice all too clear, “I don’t recall a specific hour!”

He jerks away from me as I taste his skin, savoring his scent and just ignoring his insolence, “Ah, that is true. I suppose I can take the fall for this one. Unfortunately, this is not going to be very fun for you.”

With our short pleasantries out of the way, I eagerly tear into him, forcing myself deep into the tight hotness. I can feel the barriers of flesh easily rip away, inner muscles spasm and constrict around me. The poor boy’s body almost convulses in the rush of pain. His eyes shut tightly and a high, growling scream escapes from his clenched teeth.

Gods, he’s beautiful when he does that.

I grab and steady his forehead, wrenching him back so I can taste his mouth, biting his lips and sucking on the blood. I snake an arm around his hips, crushing him against me and his screams are like candy to me as I drill into him. I don’t think I will EVER get my fill of him, no matter how many times I indulge.

Heh. I’ll certainly try though.

Somehow he manages to wrench his face away from me, panting and gasping. Due to his tardiness I am not allowing him an inch of leeway tonight. And I can already feel him weakening. He falls forward slightly, pressed against the wall by me as I release his arms, one of which I seem to have accidentally broken.

Oops.

“Well worth the wait”, I say to him.

His eyes are open now but not very focused, clouded in agony. He looks back at me deliriously, his now bleeding, shredded mouth slightly open, slack, spit glistening slightly on his bottom lip, some his, some mine. I merely grin at him, then pump my body faster, reveling in his heat. His eyes widen and his head snaps back against my chest, staring at me with a puzzled look on his face.

“What’s wrong, Vegeta? You look confused.”

My grip is now on his hips, nails already embedded deep in his flesh.

“Do I need to explain things to you?”

I kick off the wall and aim us at the ground, controlling the speed of our fall until the last minute and I smash us against the floor. A choked cry comes out of him, his body shuddering as I plunge in deeper from the impact and the pleasure starts to hit me harder and harder.

“Mmmm, it’s not too difficult to understand, even for you.”

Amazingly, his struggles renew but it’s obvious he’s doing this out of desperation. Or pain. I never really know or care which. Gloved hands scrape in vain against my floor. Weak growls of effort in between the gasps and groans of pain only add to my addiction. It always amuses me to watch him squirm like an insect trying to scurry away from me. It’s useless and yet he does it anyway. Makes him absolutely irresistible.

I know deep down he wants it. Why else would he continue this way? He knows I love it when he tries to resist me. It drives me near to madness. Yes, he knows exactly what he’s doing, that little whore.

I grab his arms, pulling them back and using them to get a better hold. Each time he tries to pull away it just means I slam into him harder. It also means a dislocated shoulder that I can feel rip out of its socket when he jerks away from me.

“AUGH!!”

Stupid boy. Serves him right. His cry makes me laugh and I lift him backwards against me, pulling him on top of my lap and thrusting deeper into him, bucking him up and down on top of me. All the blood makes fucking him a little easier, at least on my end. He weakens even more, his head now lolling drunkenly onto my shoulder. His eyes shut and his bleeding lips are frozen in a grimace, every now and then releasing a strained protest against my assault.

“You. Are. Mine. You always have been”, I whisper into his ear, licking at the sweat dripping down his neck and loving the way he moans and cringes away, “I have owned you since your idiot father abandoned you in my hands. And I will do with you what I want, whenever I please, no matter what you do. You can stall as much as you like, boy, but we both know how it ends…”

He squeezes his eyes open and again there’s that impotent anger again. So sad.

“You do know how it ends, do you? Or do I have to show you that as well?”

“Nnn…f-ffuck--AH!! Fu-fuck…y-you!!”

Of course, he chooses this as his last few coherent words for the night. Classy.

“Wrong, silly fool”, I hiss at him, and he whips his face away from me as I tighten my arms around him, “You’re the one who’s fucked.”

I hold him close, lifting him up so I pull out almost all the way and he lets loose with an exquisite, piercing scream. It’s enough so that I allow my body to take over as I enjoy the ride, slamming into his tight ass like this over and over. There’s a delicious, shuddering moan in a now frail voice as he fruitlessly twists against me. The vice of muscles around me tightens and I sink suddenly deeper, my dick pushing against something hard. I hear him gasp raggedly and his body stiffens.

The intensity of the scream is almost overwhelming. Hm, I must be hitting bone now. His good arm swings back over his head, desperately hitting and clawing at my back, no doubt drawing blood, but it only adds to it. And each time I thrust in he cries out and, Gods, it’s like ecstasy. I can feel it hitting the pit of my being now and taking me closer and closer. He brings it upon himself, really, so fucking fuckable in the way he so desperately tries not to be.

He suddenly goes limp in my arms and for a moment I think the little monkey’s passed out but when I look down in his face, his eyes are open, empty of everything but the agony. And, ah, what’s this?

I do believe I see a promising gleam of tears.

I give one final push inside him, emptying myself into him, grinding his abused, shuddering body against me. His eyes widen as if in shock and he remains strong for only a moment longer. Then anguish conquers his features and his eyes close lightly, failing to hold back the tears that sparkle like jewels before mingling with his sweat.

Just beautiful.
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Zarbon remained standing in the doorway for a long time, not quite wanting to go back in just yet. The sounds coming from the back of the building were nothing he hadn’t heard before…

Still, sometimes they tended to be a bit unsettling. Especially when Master was particularly upset. Idiotic monkey. Should’ve known better.

Agonized screams serenaded him to the smaller, separate bedroom and he retired for the night, his services obviously not needed. He stayed awake for a while, even after the tortured shrieks died down to moans, then a soft, persistent sobbing.
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A/N: Poor Vegeta (I tend to say that after a lot of my fics with him in them, eh? Uh...at least in this one he was an adult?) This is actually part of an extremely long, unfinished, AU fic that has little hope for being finished but for the purpose of this, it’s a one-shot. I have yet to read a consensual Freeza x Vegeta lemon...I have had an idea for one (it’s AU, of course--can’t have that actually happening in the DBZ universe lol) but then where’s the fun in that? *Insert evil laugh* If anyone has ever seen one, send it my way because I am super-curious as to how one could pull it off believably.