The last prince of a once populous and powerful race from a ghost of a planet was not pleased. Tossing his armor away from his battle-worn body, he stalked angrily to his shower. ~TEN FUCKING MINUTES to make myself "presentable" for that damn changeling.~
A lightening-quick nine minutes later a suitably presentable young Saiyan prince was striding down the sterile corridors of Freiza’s base ship, courtesy of his impressive speed and a small flare of his ki. He made sure to time his appearance at his overlord’s chambers to coincide exactly at the schedule of his appointment.
"You may enter," intoned the androgynous voice of the tyrant, responding to the buzzing at his door.
Lord Freiza turned away from his spectacular view of the stars outside his ship to face his visitor. "Ah Vegeta. Prompt as always," he said while silently appraising the young Saiyan kneeling before him. Though he had no taste for alien flesh himself, he could readily imagine, in a rather abstract fashion, how the boy might appeal to a less discriminating palate than his own.
The midnight flame of hair, the finely-etched—somewhat delicate—features, the slender, supple yet superbly toned body (encased in form-fitting attire as was his wont); these attributes in and of themselves would serve to attract carnal attentions. But coupled with his regal demeanor and brash arrogance, the boy would surely hold an irresistible allure for many…too many.
Even now, on bended knee before his master, the very air about him crackled with defiance.
~He obviously needs another lesson on his standing.~
The ire that Prince Vegeta was feeling was barely held in check as he bore the stinging indignity of his inferior posture. It was so typical of the ice lord to not so subtly emphasize the status of their relationship to one another by not giving him leave to rise right away. Everyone and everything in its place. ~Bastard.~
He watched the changeling’s tail tap in concert with his unvoiced musings as he walked a circle around him. Facing him directly once again, Freiza asked, "I believe you have reached the age of maturation for your species….have you not?"
Flushing uneasily at this line of questioning, the young prince replied, "I have just turned fifteen Lord Freiza…My body is…adapting…changing."
Facing him directly once more, Freiza bade him to rise.
"Dodoria has asked for you."
If he hadn’t already been on his feet, Vegeta knew he would have jumped to them at that wholly unexpected and unsettling statement. The implication behind the statement was obvious.
"Jeice and Zarbon have also expressed an interest in your…shall we say…company," he continued. "And you know how I strive to be magnanimous with all of my people. So even though Dodoria did come to me first with his petition, I felt it would only be fair to allow you the final choice in the matter."
Forcefully controlling his stark sense of panic, evidenced by the whitening of his knuckles in the fists at his sides, Vegeta responded in a voice that barely hid his utter outrage. "Should I be honored to be given as a reward to one of those ass-kissing bastards? I am the Prince of Saiyans. Those nobodies shouldn’t even be allowed to consider touching me."
With a smile that belied his intentions, Frieza leaned forward and whispered in Vegeta’s ear, "You. Are. My. Vassal… the prince of a race of three. If you care to keep your two remaining subjects, you will make a choice….and, if you do not, I will be forced to make one for you.” Tapping a finger on his chin in contemplation he said, “ Hmm…Dodoria did make his desires known first…but maybe I should have them all share."
Looking into the malicious red eyes a few inches from his own, he realized that he didn’t really have a choice in the matter. Vegeta would have to make a decision. It was a heinous affront to his dignity but all the righteous anger he felt at the injustice of the situation was not going to make the circumstance change.
Dodoria was out of the question. The thought of looking at that over-bloated, pink excuse for a life-form naked was enough to ruin even his Saiyan appetite. And the idea of coming into bodily contact with him was enough to make him want to puke. (He was sure three-day-old carrion held as much sex appeal.) There was just no way in hell that he’d ever voluntarily consider any physical intimacy with that corpulent toad.
As for Jeice…He hated the red-skinned pansy. As a child he had suffered countless humiliations at the hands of the white-haired member of the Ginyu Fools. Then, when he reached young adulthood, the attentions had turned from mocking the young prince to unwelcome flirtations and fervent touches in passing. How he longed to rip off the impertinent fingers that dared to linger on him and force them down the cocksucker’s throat.
It seemed some cruel trick of nature that the members of that ridiculously posturing group could be stronger than his people…Saiyans…true warriors.
That left Zarbon. The blue-skinned pretty boy was no friend…but he was the least repugnant option of the three.
"Zarbon." The name was forced from his mouth but plainly coherent.
The sadistic side of the ice lord would have loved to renege on his generosity. ~It would have been so much more fun to pair the princeling with one of the other two.~ But in reality he had never had any intention of giving the prince over to either Dodoria or Jeice. He didn’t want to break the prince.
The Saiyans were virtually unparallelled in their service to him. And Frieza knew that it was by his careful stoking of the Saiyan prince’s inner rage that the planet trade was such a successful venture. The Ginyu member, Jeice, was rumored to have some rather unhealthy appetites. As for Dodoria, even he felt faintly ill at the idea of a coupling involving his fat lieutenant and the little prince.
Smiling pleasantly at the infuriated boy, the changeling said, "Very well then. I’ll tell Zarbon to expect you and your possessions in his quarters tonight. As for your guards, I’ll make arrangements to have a room adjacent to your new home made ready for their occupancy."
Freiza turned his back on Vegeta and walked back over to the ink-black expanse of wall dotted with the beckoning lights of the suns of the many solar systems. After a few minutes of unbroken silence, he said as if in sudden remembrance, "Oh yes. You may leave."
After the departure of the Saiyan youth, he turned his thoughts to the events of last week. When Dodoria and then Jeice had approached him with their entreaties in regards to the prince, he had been fully prepared to deny their requests--after "due consideration”-- and leave the matter at that.
But then Zarbon, who was present at both meetings, had suddenly announced his own desire to be considered for the very same thing.
All three of them were well-compensated for their services to him, but that had never stopped Dodoria and Jeice from requesting special favors over the years. Zarbon had never asked Frieza for anything. And as far as intimate relations were concerned, the emerald-haired beauty had always distanced himself from the many offers that came his way.
There lay his uneasiness. He had seen no good reason to deny this first request from his faithful ambassador. Indeed he had relished the thought of making Vegeta choose to be a pleasure toy. But this was so unexpected coming from Zarbon. It had taken him completely by surprise. ~I don’t like surprises. Especially surprises involving my closest associates.~
Part Two |