Disclaimer: ... ... ... do you really think I own DBZ? ... ... ... then you must be even more stupid than me... ... ... and I wish I could make some money with this story, but get real *whines * . I will have to deal with only my pocket money ... ... ... and this one disclaimer (or the lack thereof) has to be enough for all the chapters, got it!?!?

How am I supposed to get out of this shit I call my life? Running away like a coward or facing the Aisu-jin? Who is going to help me?

I know that nobody will come to rescue me, and that knowledge weighs more than a ton of bricks. My father has given me away to that bastard, and only two idiots are allowed to stay with me. One of them is a horny weakling, the other one a brainless bully, and I have to share my room with them every day.

I have been here for the better part of my life, and I am starting to forget what my home was like. Not that I'm going back there anyways, it doesn't exist any more. That son of a bitch has told me that it had been hit by an asteroid. As if I would believe such a cowardly lie ... My father was far stronger than a simple piece of shitty rock, and our detection grid would have warned us early enough.

But what am I thinking, there is no 'us' any more, just me and those two brainless idiots. Nobody else. We three are the last of our race. How ironic that we planet-destroying purgers have been erased ourselves by an even bigger fish.

The only thing that is keeping me going is the burning desire for revenge. One day, I will kill that bastard and avenge my people. But the waiting, the constant humiliations, the burning rage is eating me slowly from the inside out. I might appear as a heartless, cruel murderer as this is the only thing that bastard has taught me to do; although on the inside, I have retained some emotions, only the seeds of them.

My people was a very passionate one, and that enabled us to bring out our full potential. But the merciless education in that bastard's army has emotionally crippled me; I can no longer live my passions and thus not access my full power. I have been taught by being beaten within an inch of my life every day for the first three years of my service, then I was the one who did the beating. I couldn't afford any sentimental feelings because I would not have survived. The only thing I have retained is the burning battle lust and the seething anger and hatred for that son of a bitch.

Suddenly, the metal door to the small room I have to share with dumbass and weakling hisses open, and a grim Nappa enters and bows.

"Vegeta-ouji, Lord Furiza wishes to see you in the throne room immediately."

I only nod absently and proceed to clothe myself in the typical uniform of the Aisu-jin army, a blue or black spandex, and some white-golden armor. When you are speaking of the devil ...

I probably won't be able to use the clothes afterwards any more, so I don't know why I even bother with dressing. I am pretty sure that I am going to end up in a regen-tank, broken, bloodied, and my clothes torn to shreds. That is actually already a vast improvement. In the first three years I have spent here, I would wake up in a bloody pulp on the floor as nobody cared if I died or not. But now, I am one of that bastard's most powerful soldiers, so he can't afford loosing me. Although that doesn't mean he won't beat me within an inch of my life on every occasion - or use my body in ... other ways.

Forcefully choking off my thoughts, I leave the room and walk quickly through the cold, plain, grey hallways of the main base. Many soldiers are hurriedly passing on business errands or god knows what else, giving me fearful glances, but I ignore those weaklings completely.

Furiza seems to have taken a liking to torturing me in every possible way, probably because I am the only one dumb enough to not submit to him. He always tries to make me call him 'Lord Furiza', but that is something that bastard will never hear from my mouth. I am a prince, and princes don't call anybody their superior.

That is the other thing that is keeping me sane: my pride. I cling to it desperately because that is the only thing nobody can take away – not even the Aisu-jin. But it is getting harder and harder; ever since that son of a bitch has made me his personal sex toy, I have been continuously fighting to maintain my pride. I have never begged him to stop before, but every time he is stroking my tail, my resistance is weakens immensely, and on more than one occasion, I would have almost given up.

Does he know what he is doing to me?

Yes, I am sure of that. He is a master at such things. But I won't give him the satisfaction of seeing me break. Never.

I set up the stony mask that displays a fierce scowl and dangerously furrowed eyebrows, the facade I have trimmed to perfection. Over the years, it has become my constant facial expression, and it is a great asset in scaring people that are too curious away.

Stomping through the huge doors into the throne room, I completely ignore the people that are assembled and head straight towards that bastard's hovering chair. He usually has some high officials with him when he decides to 'punish' me, making my humiliation even greater. From what I have gathered, it is a great honor to be invited to a 'monkey session' as they call it. There are always bets on me if I break during the torture that day or not, and they are cheering for the bastard, especially when the second part of the ... program ... begins.

Only one time, I have made the mistake of blasting one of the rowdy spectators. The Aisu-jin had only looked at the smoking pile of ashes, and declared that that had been an important diplomat from the LeBoda-system. Then he had shown me his true abilities in the art of torturing people.

First, he had used me as a punching bag, breaking each and every one of my bones repeatedly, bathing in the blood that I coughed up because one rib had punctured my lung. Then he had proceeded to cut deep into my flesh with a super-heated ki-beam several times. The wounds it left were completely bloodless, but so deep that my bone fragments were visible. As a final touch, he had carved his name right across my shoulders, marking me as his property. I still bear that scar today, and it is one source of my infinite hatred for him.

I hadn't known that a single body could take so much punishment; but afterwards, I was still conscious and could smell the stench of my burned flesh, making me gag. As if that had not been enough, he had lowered himself over my broken body, and he had satisfied himself inside me. That had been the first time he had used me in that way, and that was when he had almost broken me.

I had just come of age, the time when a Saiya-jin reached sexual maturity, and thus my whole body was highly perceptible to all advances. During the time of First Heat, all Saiyan children on Vegeta-sei were together with their families who guided them through their first sexual experiences, strengthening the bonds of friendship. It was an honor to be allowed to help somebody into his adult-hood, and the First Coupling was supposed to bring great pleasure to the new adult.

When I had woken up later in the regen-tank, I had felt soiled, used, humiliated. At that point of time, I would have almost surrendered. But then, Radditz had stepped in and fetched me from the healing tank. He had carried me to our room despite my protests that I could walk just fine. When he had thrown me on my bed and started petting me, I had almost blasted him into oblivion because my memories of the encounter with Furiza had still been too fresh. The only thing that had held me back was the knowledge that Radditz was one hundred percent loyal to me – and the fact that I actually enjoyed what he was doing.

I had been fighting the pleasurable bolts of electricity that were running through my tail with each stroke, but Radditz told me to enjoy it and that it was something completely natural. Up until that point of time, I never knew what it meant when Radditz smelled spicy, like earth after a fresh rain. I had only known that he became restless and that he left each night during that time and came back with the scent of somebody else clinging to him like a second skin. I had always assumed that he had just been itching for a spar, and I had never understood why he would prefer some races of inferior strength to his own people.

I had always thought him weak because of that, but that night changed my opinion of him – somewhat. He had been very careful with me, as if I was his own son or brother, and he had taught me that sexual encounters could also bring satisfaction to both partners. He had taken a lot of time just petting me, tracing his fingers over my scarred skin, waiting until I relaxed under his light ministrations and his dense scent.

I had never known what a soft touch felt like, I had only experienced hurtful punches and kicks before, so I was soon overwhelmed by my new, gentle experiences. That night and the following two, Radditz had taught me all he knew about the Saiyan family bonds and mating; the first by actual demonstrations, the latter by telling me.

When he had been sent to join the Aisu-jin army together with me, he had already been of age a couple of years; after all, he is more than ten years older than me. Secretly, I am glad that he took me under his wings, if only for a few days, but that had helped me to resist Furiza. During that time, he had built up my lost confidence, making me harder than ever before. What doesn't kill you makes you stronger.

He had also refreshed my memories of Vegeta-sei because I had been merely seven years old when I had been given to that bastard. I was surprised how much I had forgotten, so we made it a habit to talk about our home every once in a while – if none of us was on a purging mission or in a regen-tank.

Where I am probably going to end up in a few minutes or hours, depending on that bastard's mood. I call his attention towards me quite rudely because he deserves nothing better.

"What do you want?"

He turns away from his communication partner and absently backhands me hard in the face. It was so fast that I didn't even see it coming. I just felt my head turn until my neck almost snapped, and now blood is collecting in my mouth. Angrily, I spit it out, directly in front of the feet of that son of a bitch. He glances down at the bloodied spot, and then stares at me with his heartless red pupils. His voice is utterly repulsive, so high and slimy when he addresses me.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk, as rude as ever. When are you going to learn some manners fit for a prince?"

Another punch as fast as lightening crashes directly into my ribs before I can do anything. I can hear my bones cracking from the pressure, and I cough up some more blood. Pain lances through my chest, but over the years, I have become so familiar with it that I can just ignore it.

I can hear the other guests cheer and whistle as if they were applauding a show. I hate those ruthless bastards that take pleasure from seeing those stronger than them bleed. Trying to distract myself, I imagine what it would be like to hear their screams when I break their bones. I can't help it, but a malicious smirk plays around my lips at that thought. Their unarticulated howls of pain would be music to my ears.

I am roughly called back to reality when my feet are kicked out from beneath my body, and a sharp elbow sends me crashing to the floor. Before I can even think about getting up, a foot stomps on my neck and hods me down, making me choke.

I know that resistance is futile, but nevertheless, I send an energy blast right into that bastard's face. I am quite surprised when his weight is actually lifted off me, and I quickly use the short time to scramble to my feet. Before I can do anything else though, I feel myself getting slammed into the tiles face first again.

"So you want to play?"

I hate him so much that all of my vision turns bloody red from rage and I thrash around to the best of my abilities. But I am not as fortunate to catch him off-guard as before, so he merely amplifies the pressure of his cold fingers on my arms that he has twisted behind my back. At that point, my shoulders are burning like hell, but I won't give up as I don't actually care about a dislocated shoulder.

My two broken ribs are grinding together painfully, but I ignore them. Perhaps I can make that bastard mad enough so that he won't rape me. Over the years, I have learned to live with the pain, but the forced sex is as humiliating as on the first day. I manage to bend my hands around so far that I can get a grip on his ice cold arms, but I don't have enough power to bust his stronghold, so I take the only option possible.

Unwrapping my tail from my waist, I let it sneak up behind that bastard and loop it around his throat. Then I pull with all my might, hoping to do some damage. I think I have caught that son of a bitch unaware again because his weight suddenly disappears from my back. I just want to send a Gallic Gun after him when an excruciating pain shoots from the tip of my tail up to the base of my skull.

Damn him, he's got my tail again. I should not have been as stupid as to give my most vulnerable appendage into his hands. But now, it is too late. I can feel it how he squeezes the fragile bones together, and I have to bite my tongue to suppress a scream. With a silent snap, he has crushed the smallest vertebra at the tip of my tail, and I inhale sharply as the pain is flowing through my veins.

He is experimentally rolling his thumb over the broken bone, and he seems to be very delighted at the shudder of agony passing through my body.

I have trained my overly sensitive tail for countless hours to be as immune to being squeezed as the rest of my body, but Furiza seems to know exactly how to inflict the most pain. When the tip of my tail grows somewhat numb to the torture, he feels for the next bone and crushes it between his finger.

I am lost in a bloody haze of pain and agony, but not so much that I wouldn't feel his cold claws shredding my pants and some of my skin in the process. Managing a deep growl in my throat, I twist myself around to blast him right in his ugly face, but before I can even halfways see him, one of his booted feet crashes into my right hip and fractures it in tiny pieces.

Using my momentary paralysis from the pain, he brutally shoves his length into my entry that had been only slightly lubricated by my blood. I can feel my flesh ripping open from the force of it, and I claw at the floor to contain my screams. He is still holding my broken tail in his fingers, and he is shaking it like a rope, making the broken vertebrae grind together infinitely painfully.

But all I can think about at the moment is the icy length in my body and the hot blood trickling down between my legs. He begins to pump in and out as he works himself into a frenzy; and with every brutal thrust, my hip is screaming in protest. I can hear his grunts of pleasure as he is satisfying himself with my body, and hot bile rises in my throat from disgust.

Now, he is sucking at my tail, running his icy hand up and down the fur in a very stimulating manner. I have to fight hard to keep my dignity and not cry out in pleasure, because despite my pain, this is arousing me fast. I try to keep my body under control, but that bastard knows exactly what buttons to push, and soon I am shuddering from pleasure. To keep the last shreds of my dignity intact, I bite down hard into my own forearm to muffle all sounds.

I can feel him hard and cold against my sore insides, scraping me, hurting me, humiliating me to the utter extent. From his labored grunts, I can hear that he is nearing the breaking point, and when he spills his seed into my bloodied body, he rakes his claws through the muscles on by back, leaving eight deep gashes running down.

But the torture on my tail doesn't stop, and soon I am over the edge myself, spilling my seed into the growing pool of blood beneath me with a last, violent shudder. Now, I am lying there limp, panting, pained. His weight is leaving my body, and I scramble to my feet, not caring about the blood and the seed dripping to the floor. Scraping the last rests of my dignity together, I stand as straight and proud as possible, carefully wrapping my injured tail around my waist. His high-pitched voice pierces into my awareness.

"Ah, you are such a nice tight fuck."

Laughter erupts all around me as I am trembling from anger, ready to kill all of them. A bluish-white aura ignites around me as my power is rising, and that bastard is cocking an eyebrow at me.

"Still so much energy left? You haven't had enough? No problem, we can fix that."

The laughter of the crowd is stuck in my ears, wandering through my brain while he is raping me again and again until I lie on the floor completely drained of my power, stripped of my dignity. The only thing I can pride myself on is that I haven't given that bastard the satisfaction of hearing me scream even once. His stinking breath whispers against my ears as he bends down to me.

"That was fun, we should do that more often. But at the moment, I have a more important task for you. Take the other two monkeys with you and clear planet Berefu. And if you are a good boy, you will get a nice reward. I expect you to depart within the hour, so hurry up and get out of here!"

With those words, he gives me a last kick into my broken ribs that sends me flying through the opened door and halfways down the hallway. Sneering faces pass my broken body as they watch me struggle to get up.

Does that bastard think he can break me like that? He only adds fuel to the burning rage in my heat.

Right. If I keep telling myself that, perhaps I am going to believe it one day. In reality, I am thoroughly disgusted at myself for my inability to control the reactions of my body. Limping to our room, I have to suppress a wince at every step because both of my ankles are broken, and my right hip is fractured.

I leave a bloody trail on the floor, but that is the least of my worries. For the moment, I am completely concentrated on reaching our room without passing out on the hallway. I swear, that bastard has deliberately placed our room at the other end of the base so that I have to suffer longer. I grit my teeth and stumble through the corridors.

Luckily, Radditz crosses my path and carries me back to our room without asking any stupid questions. I would have killed everybody else for helping me, but that brotherly bond we had formed that night allows me to accept such a show of compassion. In our room, I tell him of our mission while he is patching me up with long years of practice. When he is done, he leaves to get Nappa while I wash the rest of the blood and the semen off my skin and get dressed.

The make-shift casts around my ankles and my hip are strong enough to support my broken bones, but the stitches on my back are quite crude and the blood-flow is barely staunched. I still feel light-headed from the blood-loss and every breath hurts, but I just ignore it.

As soon as I am ready, weakling and dumbass enter and escort me to our pods. Most of my injuries are going to heal during the six-week-flight, and I am going to be as good as new once we arrive. I'll probably need all of my strength because Berefu is said to have some of the toughest defenses. At least I will be free from that bastard for a few months.

We arrive at the space-port, and everybody scrambles away from us in fear. Although we are the last three Saiya-jin, we have gained us quite a bit of reputation, and all except Zarbon, Dodoria, the Ginyu goons, and the bastard himself respect us. It is great to see that I can still strike fear in hearts despite my injuries.

We enter our personal pods that are already waiting for us, and soon we are launched. The added gravity from the acceleration presses my wounded back uncomfortably into the seat, and my broken tail sends bolts of agony up my spine. But soon enough, we are out of the atmosphere, and I program the coordinates for Berefu.

I know that the two of them don't have enough brains to set the course themselves, so I send them the data. For all I despise them, they are the last two members of my race, and I am their prince, so I have some responsibility for them, don't I?

I grumble, the sleeping gas always gives me funny thoughts during the first stage, but I don't have enough time for complaining. Within a few seconds, I am in a haze induced by the mixture that was specially designed for us Saiya-jin. With our high immune system, we need drugs strong enough to kill lesser races, and even those won't knock us out completely, just let us forget all coherent thoughts. During that time, we are reduced to mindless animals. Only able to react on instinct.

The haze is getting stronger. My thoughts slow down. Then, I am caught in that endless bright moment where my brain only receives information but doesn't know what to do with it.

A/N: So, what do you think? Good/bad? Please review!