A fantasy Roman-like empire where Bulma is an influential, divorced young woman and Vegeta is an enslaved Saiyan Prince serving as a gladiator at the Circus.

We'll see where this goes... Please tell me what you think! I had a blast writing this for sure.

"Just say yes, Bulma. I promise it'll be just one date." His eyes, his face, his tall, well-built body would've been irresistible for any female. Hell, even the first time she saw him, her panties dropped. But Bulma Briefs knew better now, after one tough divorce, to stay away from men like him. He grinned seductively, as he took off his galea -a bronze forged helmet- and instinctively touched the luscious red crest that decorated it. "You'd make me the happiest man in the Cold Empire".

"You really flatter me, General Zarbon, and it pains me terribly to turn you down." She smiled softly as her glance ran over the heavy books on her desk, picking them up to put them inside her brown leather bag. It was one of the newest, most luxurious items that had just arrived to the city – that kind of leather was rare, directly brought from the new distant lands conquered by the empire. Only few people had the privilege of owning such exclusive materials: Bulma was one of them. As a rich, powerful, influential philosopher and prominent professor at the Universitatis, she was known for being one of the most desired -and envied- women in the city. She had already accomplished at her short 25 years of age what other men struggled their whole life to gain: respect from her peers, admiration not only for her striking, exotic beauty, but for her articulate rhetoric and her fiery temper.

"Wonderful class, professor!" one of her students waved as groups of young men left the room chatting and laughing.

She nodded at them before turning her attention to Zarbon once again:

"I have another class to give now. You'll have to excuse me." She passed by his side but he gently touched her arm to stop her. If she could've rolled her eyes at him, she certainly would have, but Bulma knew how careful she had to be around Emperor Frieza's generals – and specially, around Frieza himself. One look, one word, one slight change of tone that they took as offensive and you'd be punished depending on the Emperor's mood. They're all sick fucks, Bulma thought as she tried to come up with something to turn him down politely. He spoke before she could react:

"The Emperor is having a gala tonight. I was hoping you would join me." Zarbon's voice was as sweet as honey, but the mere mention of the Emperor implied that he wasn't toying with her. "Everyone would be delighted to see you and listen to your wonderful stories. And Lord Frieza is in an excellent mood today. He just came back from a campaign in Vegetasei covered in glory!"

She raised an eyebrow. Those galas were huge, excessive, and the right place to see and be seen; to weave nets of power and influence. Being a divorced woman, with no important husband to rely on, she had to struggle for herself. Turning down an invitation to one of Frieza's private parties was out of the question. It was undeniably tempting, really... she needed some good fun, and as a lover of poetry and aesthetics, those mundane pleasures appealed to her like no others. Food, drink, music, poetry... maybe a good session of long and hard fucking wouldn't hurt her either. There were always fierce soldiers, exotic slaves or powerful generals like Zarbon himself that would be more than happy to fulfill whatever kinky fantasy she came up with those nights. After her divorce with Yamcha, an elite athlete, she had discarded monogamy as an option.

"Oh, general, I guess I could arrange my schedule then... I'd love to congratulate the Emperor personally," Bulma cajoled as she curled one of her long blue locks with a finger.

The hand he had on her arm softly moved up to her shoulder as he leaned in to whisper seductively:

"He'll be delighted to see you."

"Sleazy motherfucker" Bulma mumbled with disdain after Zarbon left before taking a last look at her notes of the philosophy class she was about to dictate. She decided she'd take the class for a walk under the warm spring sun to avoid running into the general at the university again.

The beat of drums could be heard from outside the palace, anticipating the lustful, atmosphere that flooded the luxurious, marble-covered rooms. As Bulma made her way towards the entrance, Zarbon gallantly taking her by the arm, she couldn't control the goose bumps that tingled on her skin. Something –maybe the starry night skies, or the general excitement that was built upon what promised to be Frieza's most unforgettable party- told her this night would be one to remember. She glanced at her reflection as they walked past the mirrors in the hallways and a half smile curved her glossy pink lips. Her over privileged life had drove her to develop an excessive, loud-mouthed cockiness... an attitude that only a woman used to being desired could pull off. Tonight, she knew the party would be all about triumph and glory, so she had decided to dress herself as a golden jewel, the epitome of opulence. Her slender, luscious body was barely covered by a shiny gold bikini top that pushed her full breasts together, barely containing them in place. A thick golden choker around her neck contrasted brightly with her waist-long blue locks, and a dainty golden chain surrounded her slender waist, which tingled gracefully with every step she took. Wearing nothing but a golden thong, her hips looked strikingly hypnotic.

Zarbon had inevitably gasped when he picked her up that night, but disappointment soon settled dreadfully in his stomach. He couldn't ignore the fact that when he showed up with her, looking like that, someone more powerful than himself would try to court her... maybe even the Emperor himself. And then, there would be nothing he could do to stop it. As he pushed the door open, his eyes slid slowly down her body one last time, before losing her to the fierce competition of implacable, wine drinking warriors intoxicated by the sweet wine from the empire's valleys and the rhythmical, sensual beat of the drums.

As the room revealed before them, they were stricken by the smell of sandalwood and wine. Bulma inhaled deeply as she let the heat of the atmosphere and the golden light of the torches bathe her, remembering the long discussions she had with other scholars: the ascetics, intensely focused on abstinence from sensual pleasures and virtue as a method of gaining freedom. But she couldn't deny pleasing her mind or her body. She believed that pleasure was the greatest good in human life, and she sure as hell would do whatever she could to achieve it: art, food, sex... she was a fierce advocate of hedonism, and she would stand by it in the classroom, in her writings, in debates and in her own private life.

All kinds of fresh fruit ornamented the wide, elegant tables at the center of the room. People moved around to the music or rested comfortably on the lush velvet pillows arranged on the ground and on the wide divans while they watched a group of stunning centaurs walking around with champagne and wine bottles in their hands, diligently filling any empty glasses. Bulma made her way alongside Zarbon between the exquisitely decorated furniture, the bare toned chests of victorious soldiers and the exquisite silken dresses of princesses and high society women who stared at Bulma's figure through the corner of their eyes. But tonight there was no space for judgement: everyone present knew that whatever happened at Frieza's private parties, stayed in Frieza's private parties. Zarbon searched for the Emperor anxiously while he shot angry glares at his comrades, who lustfully stared at Bulma's ass when she walked by.

"Oh, there you are, Zarbon. You look so handsome!" Frieza called gleefully from a blood red, satiny futon where he was sprawled with the unapologetic poise of royalty while a tiny, blue floating cat fed him sweet smelling grapes. A grotesque, obese pink creature stood silently in armor beside him. Dodoria, Bulma thought with a snarl, one of Frieza's cruelest bodyguards. She was struck by how happy the Emperor looked, indeed. It must've been a hell of a successful campaign.

Zarbon knelt down as he kissed his hand, pride and relief for finally finding his master invading him. Bulma couldn't help but to wince at the true loyalty she saw flashing in the general's face towards the Emperor. It was no secret that Frieza was a tyrannical son of a bitch, and she couldn't imagine anyone feeling true love for such a creature. Of course, she would smile and behave in his presence, but only out of survival instinct. A part of her hated herself for it, but she loved life too damn much to give up on it just now.

"My lord!" The general said in an unexpected sickeningly sweet tone, "It's so great to have you back!"

"Well of course I'm back," Frieza replied smugly, giggling. "Like those savages from Vegetasei stood any chance against my army."

"Of course they didn't, Emperor. How could a bunch of brutish apes, enemies of civilizations and freedom, could ever even hope of defeating your holiness!"

"Hear, hear, Zarbon." The Emperor stood up, revealing his tiny body, making the blue floating cat jump in fear. He touched his chin lightly with one of his thin fingers, one of his dark purple nails scratching his pale skin softly, as if pondering. "Why is it, my beloved Zarbon, that ungratefulness is so widespread along the Earth? Why has hatred became such a venomous disease?" He questioned affectedly. "The gods have favored us with grace and glory because we deserve it. But the poor, the sick, the less privileged and the barbarians insist on fighting what the gods have destined for them by feeding on their hatred towards us. Why can't they just accept what they deserve? Why do they have to torment us, why would they try to disrupt the sacredness of our paradise?"

Zarbon took his Master's hand in a comforting manner, while Bulma froze beside him.

"I don't know, my lord. But the gods are on our side. We will prevail because we're virtuous."

A pleased smile curved Frieza's dark, thin lips.

"Precisely, General." His eyes suddenly met Bulma's, which immediately caused her to experience a sharp, cold shiver down her spine. His unsettling look didn't leave hers as he spoke. "And if I didn't know better, I'd say you're a daughter of the gods yourself! Please introduce us, Zarbon."

The soldier cleared his throat.

"You... you already have been introduced, Emperor. This is Bulma Briefs, an intellectual and philosophy professor at the Universitatis. She designed the new telescopes for the warships."

"Oh my, yes! Of course I remember. You look striking, dear. If you weren't so smart, I'd probably already have you as my concubine!"

Bulma forced a smile but couldn't find her voice. She knew that if she spoke that tiny son of a bitch would never know what hit him – but she'd probably loose her tongue (if not her life) right after it.

"Those telescopes were astounding!" he continued excitedly, lying back down on the futon as the kitty hurried to follow him. "If it weren't for them, we would've lost our way out in the sea. They were a great advantage against the Saiyans! Oh, I almost feel bad for the poor monkeys."

He looked at Bulma with small, glittery eyes of joy.

So he expects an answer now? She asked herself clumsily as she managed to blurt out an awkward "Thank you, Emperor."

"How did you manage to come up with such advanced technology?" Frieza questioned.

Bulma was a fucking professor, a speaker, a champ at rhetoric, but for some reason, the presence of the Emperor disturbed her so deeply that her tongue grew numb and responded with the grace of an overdosed clown.

"I just, uh... I um... I just found some crap lying around my workshop and uh... I thought I could use this... and that. Um. You know. The usual."

Zarbon shot her a look of pure horror.

Frieza clapped at her reaction.

"Oh, what an adorable little thing!"

The general's eyes widened in disbelief.

"She's not just gorgeous and a genius, she's a comedienne too!" the Emperor said excitedly. "Zarbon, I am so terribly sorry, but I'm going to have to steal the girl for tonight."

Oh no, oh nononono...

Bulma couldn't think of any situation more uncomfortable than spending the whole night with that terrifying dwarf. She would rather listen to her parents having sex.

"Emperor!" She interrupted with excessive enthusiasm, "I couldn't possibly be the receiver of such honor! I would bore you for sure."

His eyes slid over he cleavage wickedly.

"I think you could keep me quite entertained."

Zarbon opened his mouth to speak but Frieza interrupted him sharply.

"Leave us, General. And don't forget to try the stuffed giraffe neck. It's delicious."

As Zarbon's beautiful face turned into a cold mask, he bowed his head in silent agreement. Submission to Frieza's desires was the first rule of the court to stay alive. The tall man retreated into the mass of dancers and disappeared in the dim, decadent glow of the room.

Frieza patted the space on the futon beside him and Bulma sat down stiffly.

"You look so tense, dear."

"Well, I haven't had any wine yet," Bulma commented with a smile as she decided to get her confidence back… se would surely needed if she was going to spend time with this monster. I might as well get drunk quick, she thought.

"We'll fix that right away." The Emperor answered, as he pulled the cat's tail and addressed him harshly. "Bring the best wine for Miss Briefs. Move!" In just a few seconds, a centaur was pouring sweet red wine for her in a wide crystal glass.

The pleasant sound of music mixed with laughter and conversation filled the room, as people danced and drank with joy, while others laid down on the wide futons or over the soft fur carpets that completely covered the floor. Gorgeous warriors bragged about their latest victories on the battlefield while beautiful women snickered flirtatiously, everyone slowly becoming intoxicating with champagne and wine. An exotic looking woman stripped on a platform while a group of males clapped enthusiastically and centaurs walked nimbly between the guests as a group of socialites pulled their tails mischievously.

Thanks to the alcohol flowing in her blood that heated her chest reassuringly, Bulma started to find everything the Emperor said unusually interesting and amusing. He was a powerful creature, and she was somewhat fascinated, analyzing the behavior of the man who held the destiny and lives of so many at the palm of his hand. He was in his element: people sucking up to him, surrounded by wealth and beauty.

After an hour of talk an laughter, Frieza let his tail slid up Bulma's leg viciously.

"But let's hear the good stuff, Bulma… Are you single?"

She cleared her throat and wondered why she didn't punch the emperor on the face the minute that thick tail touched her thigh… the wine, probably.

"Divorced, actually," she replied casually.

"Why was that, dear? What fool would divorce such a delightful creature as yourself?"

"I was married to this athlete… But we were too young to know what we were doing. Our lives just went in different directions."

"Was he handsome?"

"Very much."

"But you got bored of him, didn't you?"

Bulma's eyes widened slightly at Frieza's sharp insight. He was obviously insanely smart. A frightening thought flashed through her mind: what if he noticed the veiled and utter disdain she felt towards him?

"I did. Cheers to that" she replied, raising her glass.

"Of course you did" he answered as his eyes narrowed and his tail played with the shiny fabric of her golden thong. "People like us, Bulma, are meant to be with extraordinary beings. What could a simple athlete offer you?"

She shrugged as her heart raced with unspeakable nervousness – that tail, my God.

"I suppose you're right, Emperor. I realized I had to end it when I discovered I'd much rather spend time with my blueprints than with him!"

"Your ability for innovation is certainly remarkable, Bulma," Frieza said as he gulped down another glass of champagne, "I think we could put it to good use. We need to build new weapons and new technology for our next pacification mission. There's a small group of Saiyans that escaped our last attack. They're hiding and building a resistance."

"I'm at your service for whatever the Cold Empire needs."

The grin across Frieza's face made Bulma sick to the stomach… he was so full of himself. At least the wine was superb.

"That's what I've wanted to hear all night," he cooed as the tip of his tail poked the golden fabric between her legs. His tone suddenly changed to one full of lust and malice. "Have you ever seen a Saiyan?"

"Never" she whispered, as a mix of disgust and arousal tensed her lower belly. She had surely heard about that fierce race of savage warriors, enemies of the Cold Empire. But they were as distant and dangerous as the gods themselves.

"Then you're in for a real treat." His tail poked slightly harder while he lowered his voice, like he were about to confess a piece of mischief. "I brought prisoners to serve as gladiators on the circus… Saiyans make the strongest gladiators! But I have a surprise for you, Bulma. After all your hard work and that ugly divorce, you need a little indulgence, don't you?"

Bulma blushed as she intuited where he was going. And she knew she wouldn't oppose the idea. She giggled nervously.

"What do you have in mind?"

"I have the Saiyan Prince chained in the next room. And before he dies in the arena, I'd like you to have him."