DISCLAIMER: We do not own DBZ or any of the characters form it.
A/N - This is an AU Bulma/Vegeta fic which I first started writing in 2001 and which I finished in 2014.
It is extremely dark – if you're easily offended or prudish you aren't going to like it. It contains non-con, implied rape, BDSM, sadism, yaoi, yuri, incest (Frieza, yo!) and poly-couples. There is a lot of sex which I have edited at here at fanfiction dot net to keep it within the M Rating. I am putting a full version up at AO3.
BTW - I in no way condone rape; I want to make that very, very clear.
All reviews are appreciated!
This chapter contains edited non-con - you've been warned!
Chapter 1: The Beginning is the End is the Beginning
Bulma Briefs trudged wearily along the cracked cement sidewalk, nimbly sidestepping a crumpled piece of newspaper that blew desolately along the street. Above her gloomy grey clouds listed lazily in a sky that was the colour of a bruise, the fading light of the sun leeching any cheerful blue from it. She glanced up at it through tired cornflower blue eyes, her long blue hair restrained in a tight bun except for a few rogue hairs which dangled annoyingly around her face. Her clothes, which had once been good quality, were threadbare and did nothing to disguise how thin she was beneath them.
Even though she walking along what had once been one of the busiest streets in one of the busiest cities on Earth, the blue haired teenager hadn't see another living soul. Normally there would have been at least a few people out on the streets; urchin children begging or other workers hurrying home to beat the night time curfew that was stringently enforced. But this afternoon the street was deserted as though something or someone had driven everyone away, and it gave Bulma the chills as she walked along, her skin prickling as though she were being observed by invisible eyes.
The human race was a race of slaves and had been for several years now; only a few humans who were privileged enough to earn or buy freedom could afford the luxury of appearing in public like Bulma did without penalty. She was lucky; her father had run a prosperous business before the Saiyan Empire had invaded and conquered her world, and his capsule technology was useful enough to the saiyans that their family had been allowed to remain as free citizen. Not that being a free citizen meant much to some saiyans; they all saw humans as vermin to be eradicated or used for their pleasure.
She absently reached to her chest, and felt for the citizen card that was clipped tightly to the front of her shirt; the ID card proclaimed her name to be `Bulma Briefs' and her race to be `HUMAN'. However, an ID card wasn't all that would be needed if a saiyan did stop and search her, and the precious ID paper that proclaimed her a free citizen of the Saiyan Empire was clutched tightly in her hand. It was an old piece of paper and time had worn away the edges and dulled the colours, but the thought of what would be done to her if she was caught on the streets without her ID paper was terrifying.
Everyone had heard the stories about humans who was caught on the streets without their ID papers being immediately arrested and shipped out to one of the mining colonies that the saiyan's so ruthlessly ran. It was probably true because there were no more trials and no more `innocent until proven guilty'; there was only punishment - and lots of it. The saiyan's ruled through fear and intimidation and their ruthless methods worked across all the words they had conquered and all the races they had subjugated.
It was strange to think that Earth had, only two short years ago, been a flourishing planet and none of the inhabitants had known about saiyans or galactic empires. Little had they known that the Earth had been one of the few free planets left in the galaxy, and that most of it was divided between two vast empires; the Saiyan Empire and the Icejin Empire. The first they'd known about the presence of other species and other inhabited planets was when the saiyans had invaded and defeated Earth with humiliating ease. It had been a rude awakening for the people of Earth; one moment they were leading normal lives and the next they had found themselves enslaved by the saiyans and under the rule of King Vegeta, the powerful and terrifying ruler of the Saiyan Empire.
The few humans who had been rich or important enough to buy their freedom back had done so, but being a free citizen didn't make living on Earth that much easier. Every free citizen was required by law to hold down a job to maintain their free status, and since jobs were in such short supply, it meant that most free citizens ended up working in sweatshops alongside slaves - if not worse. Bulma had lost count of how many of her 'free' friends had become whores or worse in the name of freedom; selling themselves into slavery in the delusion that they would somehow make their lives bearable again.
Never, she'd promised herself months ago when her own mother had become the mistress of a saiyan lord, I'll never be desperate enough to go down that road.
The delicate blue haired girl blew a strand of hair out of her face and glanced up at the gloomy afternoon sky, shivering as a blast of icy wind gusted up and chilled her to the bone. Although she was dressed in a long sleeved green shirt and blue jeans with sneakers, it was poor protection from the cold and without a coat the wind seemed to cut to her core with icy fingers. As she wrapped her arms around herself for warmth and struggled along the street against the pull of the wind, she couldn't help but muse that the sky didn't seem as blue as it once had, nor did the sun seem to shine as bright or the stars seem as beautiful. Maybe she was imagining it. Maybe everything was really the same as it had always been and it was just because she was trapped in this concrete jungle working day in and day out to scrape enough money to get by on that she thought everything was dull and lifeless.
Or perhaps it was really because the earth was dying from the Saiyans abuse of its natural resources as they strip mined the planet, she thought to herself bitterly.
Her workplace wasn't far from here, she'd only walked two or three blocks from the factory where she slaved her day away and her nose wrinkled against her will at the thought of her job. She had so many talents and they were stagnating as she worked on a production line that made AI chips for the saiyan army. Mostly they were AI chips for the space fleet, but sometimes they made chips for Saiyan weaponry. It wasn't hard work, or even very interesting, but it at least gave Bulma opportunities to study the saiyan technology and work out ways in which the humans could fight back.
If there was anything the petite young human still believed in, it was that freedom was precious and that everybody should be free. Freedom shouldn't come with a price tag, nor should it come with hard work or sexual favours; people deserved freedom. On the same day that the Earth had fallen, Bulma had decided that even if she had to live her life in servitude and work in a stinking factory, she would live to see the Earth restored to its former glory and each human to be free.
Bulma heard a shuffling footstep behind her and she glanced over her shoulder expecting to see a fellow worker, but nothing was there. A queer prickling sensation spread over her back and shoulders and she quickened her pace down the cracked and worn street; despite all appearances she knew someone was behind her. She couldn't hear anything other than her own footsteps but she knew that somebody was watching her…following her…hunting her. The hairs on the back on her nick prickled and a cold shiver ran up and down her spine as she heard a husky male laugh.
Bulma felt a trembling in her limbs as adrenaline and fear flooded through her body and she paused and glanced behind her, this time she could see several figures keeping in the shadows that were drawing closer. It was impossible to make out more than a humanoid shape, but the fact that they were keeping in shadows and following her was enough to make Bulma scared. Slave traders! She thought to herself, her mind summoning up a million stories that friends and colleagues had told her about the horrors perpetuated against young girls who were stolen away by renegade human slave traders.
Her heart hammered harder in her chest and she turned back around, taking a shuddering breath as her eyes flickered from side to side, trying to find a safe place to run to or a place to take sanctuary. But the streets were still empty of people and Bulma started walk faster as fear began to fog her brain, numbing her senses and chasing reason and common sense form her mind. She, along with the rest of the human population, knew very well that there were slave traders on Earth who snatched both men and women off the streets, bundled them into huge transport ships and sold them to mining companies or exotic whore houses.
She reached the corner of the street and glanced back to see two men following her, and she gave up trying to be brave and broke into a run, every one of her instincts was screaming at her to run faster…faster…FASTER! She thundered down the street as fast as she could, but she would hear the pounding of their footsteps behind her and knew they were catching up.
The footsteps behind her grew steadily louder as whoever was chasing her also increased their pace, their shoes thumping loudly on the pavement. Bulma, her breath sobbing in her throat, dodged into an alley in a desperate bid to find a hiding place, any hiding place at all, and immediately cursed herself for her stupidity as a dead end loomed ahead, effectively trapping her in the alley.
No. Oh god no.
Desperately, as sense and reason had long since deserted her completely, Bulma clawed and banged on the tightly sealed doors that lined the grimy alley and screamed loudly for help, but no help came. Her breath sobbing in her throat, she backed herself against the wall as an eerie silence descended and her stalkers appeared in the mouth of the alleyway, their silhouettes outlined in the dim sunlight. They were big, whoever they were, far too big for her to have any chance of fighting them off if they grabbed her.
As Bulma watched, one of the silhouetted figures stepped forward she fought hard not to whimper as she heard a rushing sound in her ears and felt herself swoon as fear almost pushed her over the edge and into unconsciousness - but she fought the fear and the feeling of helplessness that tried to worm into her heart. There had to be some way out of this! She was clever! She was a free citizen! Even if the worst happened and they did grab her, they had to listen to reason!
Bulma slid sideways along the wall away from the mouth of the alley, her hand trailing along the rough bricks until her back hit the cold, gritty wall of the alleyway. Trapped and with no possible escape route she gathered all her breath and screamed louder than she had in life. The shrill sound of it echoed around in the alleyway and it sounded as though there were ten of her screaming for help; but nobody nearby who could hear her was willing to lend a hand. What was wrong with people? Why wouldn't they help her?
The second silhouette let out a low chuckle and began to follow the first figure into the alley way after her, and Bulma felt fear as sharp as a knife twist in her as they drew closer. I'm not going to be able to get away! She realised as the situation fully hit her and she realised that she was completely trapped, with two very tough looking men approaching her. There wasn't any way in hell that she could get around two slave traders…
But I have to try!
Bulma swallowed hard and waited until they were close enough that she could see the despicable smirks on their faces, close enough that they were almost within touching distance and then, her muscles shaking with adrenalin, she tried to dodge past them. She was small and fast; there was a chance she could slip past without them getting hold or her…
But it was all in vain; as she tried to slip past them one of them grabbed her around the waist and lifted her bodily from the ground, completely ignoring her as she screamed hoarsely and frantically struggling to be free. It was as though he was bored by his job as he tried to hold her still while she kicked and fought to break free. Her struggles only increased as she saw the other man approaching and as she fought one of her thrashing legs finally made contact and she kicked the other man square in the face; his nose spurting blood as he let out a strangled yell.
"Fucking bitch! Hold her still while I stick her!" His voice was gruff and thickly accented, although Bulma couldn't tell where he might be from.
He had muddy brown eyes and long shaggy dark hair which was greasy and unbrushed and as he wiped the blood from his nose he pulled out a long hypodermic needle from the pocket of his coat. Bulma whimpered and struggled harder still, twisted frantically until one of her flailing fists caught the man who was holding her in the temple, and with strength Bulma didn't know she possessed she wrenched free as her captor raised a hand to his head and swayed dizzily.
She took advantage of his momentary disorientation and his companion's shock and turned around and sprinted for the mouth of the alleyway, screaming for help as she ran. The fear was like a living thing inside of her as she bolted up the alley, stumbling along as terror made her clumsy and left her limbs feeling numb. She could hear them both behind her, roaring of anger as they pounded along after her, and she threw her entire weight into running as fast as she could. Her heart beating so hard it felt as though it was going to burst through her chest!
Bulma had almost reached the mouth of the alley when one of the men tackled her and with a sickening laugh and she was thrown to the ground; her chin smashing into the bitumen road with enough force to knock her senseless. She dimly tasted blood in her mouth and saw stars blossom and dance in front of her eyes as the man who had tackled her climbed to his feet and reached down to drag her to her feet.
"Shit! Get one of those doors open so we can get this whore inside." He angrily yelled to his companion and Bulma watched dazedly as the other man nodded and quickly kicked down one of the numerous doors that lined the alleyway.
She tried to scream behind the hand that was pinned to her mouth as he forced her towards the open door, but the only sound she could make was a whimper. He laughed nastily as he dragged her down the alley way and she tried again to fight him off, but it was useless. She was too disorientated from the fall, and she could already taste blood in her mouth from where her teeth had cut into her lip.
"Stupid fucking bitch!" Her captor hissed into her ear as he wrenched her off her feet and carried her through the doorway, apparently sick of her struggles.
His temper got the better of him and as soon as they crossed the threshold he tossed her to the ground and kicked her hard in the stomach and then again in the ribs, slamming the door behind him while she lay on the ground winded. The pain was worse than any she'd experienced and she could do nothing other than curl into a ball as she cried out in agony, the sharp pain from her midsection stealing all thought from her.
Bulma's groan of pain seemed to only enrage him further and he kicked her again before laughing thickly and ran his eyes over her lustily. His gaze hesitating on her ass and then trailing up to her breasts as she lay there panting and helpless.
"Hey, Brangus." He yelled to his companion as he nudged Bulma with his boot, rolling her over as though she was a ragdoll. "What do you say we have a little fun with this slut before we ship her out?"
The other man, who Bulma had kicked in the face earlier, walked into the light and licked his thick blubbery lips. "Sure why not?" He watched as Bulma opened two terrified and pain filled blue eyes and sniggered. "The fucking cow gave us enough trouble, I think a little compensation is in order." He grabbed his crotch and laughed as Bulma whimpered in terror.
Brangus gave her one final kick before reaching down and manhandling her to her feet. Bulma shrieked in terror as he began dragging her across the room and forced her onto a splintered desk, easily lifting her up and throwing her onto it with enough force to wind her again. She tried to crawl away but he shoved her onto her back and fondled her breasts through her shirt, chuckling as she screamed hoarsely and tried to break free.
As he leaned closer to her, intending to kiss her, she managed to rake her nails across his face and he swore and backhanded her across the face, the force of the blow snapping Bulma's head to one side and knocking her back against the desk. While she lay there, clutching at her face and gathering her wits, he reached into one of his pockets and pulled out a switchblade. Before the tiny blue haired teen could come to her senses or work out what he intended to do, he flicked out the knife, grabbed one of her hands and stabbed the blade through the palm of her hand, pinning her to the desk with a spray of blood.
Bulma threw her head back and howled in agony as the pain exploded up her arm and spread through her body, immobilising her completely. She was only faintly aware of Brangus tearing at her clothes now, ripping her shirt open in a spray of buttons and yanking her jeans down unceremoniously in his hurry to fuck her. He ogled her body as he tore her bra off and squeezed her breasts painfully, then moved his hands lower and roughly fondled between her legs, shoving two fingers inside of her without any warning.
"Please! Don't!" Bulma screamed and tried to wriggle away from the intrusion as sense returned to her through the pain.
She tried to say more to Brangus but the other man quickly wriggled the knife that was stuck though her palm and she choked on her own breath as the pain exploded once more and she felt the wetness of blood against her hand and arm. She opened her eyes and sobbed as she saw that he was undressing himself now and his excitement at taking Bulma by force was evident by a huge arousal.
This couldn't be happening…please no…
"Oh, this is going to be good." Brangus rasped, his pants were down now and he fondled himself as he watched Bulma.
Bulma could do nothing but scream and beg them to stop as they raped her, and try as she might to get free it was helpless. Eventually the pain had become too much and all she could do was groan softly as the blackness that had been hovering around her vision swirled up and claimed her. She was blissfully unaware as the as the filthy slave traders continued abusing her body for the next few hours; using her for all kinds of perverse pleasures.
Bulma woke up with a moan, her body aching fiercely as she tried to move; her head felt like it was stuffed with cotton wool and her body ached as though she'd been beaten up badly. With a supreme effort she ignored the thumping pain in her head and opened her eyes, trying to sit up; the room spun dizzily and the pain intensified as a sharp spear of agony went through her and a wave of nausea made her mouth run dry. She put a hand to her head to steady herself and felt something wet slide down her face, the dripping coming from her hand and pulled her hand away and stared at it, almost gagging as she looked at the bloody puncture that was carved through her flesh.
"What? No…" She felt a clawing fear catch hold of her as she stared at the wound, unable to remember how she had been injured or what had happened to her.
"Please! Stay silent! Stay down!" A frightened male voice cut through Bulma's whimpering noises, and she obediently lay down again and tightly closed her eyes as confusion and fear swept through her.
Where was she?
What was going on?
Bulma swallowed her terror and frowned as she tried to remember where she was and what she had been doing, but try as she might her memory was a blank. The very last thing she could remember was walking to work and then there was nothing. Just a big black gaping hole in her memory that hurt whenever she probed into the blank and tried to remember what had happened.
Her curiosity and fear prompted her to speak and she timidly spoke up, "Where am I?"
She kept her voice down to a whisper and tried to still her trembling limbs as she waited for a reply, telling herself she was imagining the atmosphere of fear and anxiety in the air. The air stank of fuel and metal, and a curious ozone smell that Bulma had only ever smelled before when she had once visited the saiyan space port to help make emergency repairs to a dreadnaught that had a faulty weapons system.
I can't be on a saiyan ship…
"We're on a slave ship." The man's voice shook even more than Bulma's had, and this time there was no ignoring the unbridled terror in his tone. "We're heading for the space station Chayrli Fierv. They said we're going to be sold off to a mining colony or to whore houses." The male voice was hoarse with fear and fatigue and Bulma could only imagine how frightened the speaker must be.
"Oh God." Bulma whispered, glad her eyes were closed so she couldn't see her surroundings as the horror of her situation hit her fully.
She couldn't remember how this had happened, but given her wounds and how much her body was aching, it was perhaps a blessing that the memories were gone for now. She curled up in a ball of confusion and misery, and willed herself to ignore the cries of pain and fear around her form the other captives. But it was useless and slowly the atmosphere of defeat misery war her down and she slowly drifted into oblivion as she cried herself to sleep.
A/N – And so begins Bulma's captivity and her life of slavery. The next chapter will be up soon.