Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Dark Desire ❯ Spoiled Rotten ( Chapter 1 )

Disclaimer: I don't own DBZ, however I do own a Vegeta doll and he is all mine, mine, mine.

Chapter One

Spoiled Rotten

That blue-haired onna is spoiled rotten; there was no doubt about it. Everyone gravitates towards her, to be in her sphere. She is beautiful, smart and rich, everyone wants to be her and since they can't, then they want to be near her. To bask in her light.

It makes me sick. How could one person have so much? She has never known a day of darkness, or pain. The closest she ever came was when I came to her world and ripped it apart. The only terror she has felt was when she was on Namek. All of that was thanks to me. I smirk at the thought. Now as I dwell in her home, I can smell her fear when she is near me. Oh, she hides it well, but it is there. It is a fragrance that is sweet to me, with a hint of saltiness from her perspiration. The onna always broke out into a sweat when I am nearby.

I can hear her when she thinks I'm not near. Her laughter grates on my nerves. What is there to be happy about? Then I remember that there is no reason for her not to be happy. She has everything. She is loved and protected. I wonder what that feels like. I quickly shake off the thought as insignificant.

I have begun to watch her more and more closely in the last year. At first I had avoided everyone in the household. Being near them makes my skin crawl. She draws my attention though, with her sparkling eyes and quick wit. Not that she ever displays that with me. No, we do not speak.

The more I watch her, the more my anger builds. It's not fair that she is so happy. Immersed in her perfect life, with parents that give her all that money can buy and a mate that dotes on her, even if he is whipped.

I watch them interact sometimes. She says jump and he says how high. It's sickening really, how he bows to that female. Sometimes, when he is at his most pathetic I will see something in the back of the onna's blue eyes. Just a whisper of an emotion. Is it hate? No, the onna didn't know of hate until I came, surely she wouldn't harbor that for her mate. Is it dread? No, she does not fear her mate, as far as I can see she only fears me. It must be disgust. Yes, it is disgust for her mate's weakness. She keeps this to herself, as she sparkles like a rare jewel for everyone to see. Inviting all to look, but not to touch.

No one ever sees me while I watch her. I stand in the shadows while the light surrounds her. Everyone's center of attention, even for me. I watch no other, only her.

I have never had to go long lengths of time without a woman to satisfy my needs. My master's ship had plenty of whores for the men to slake their lusts on. Being a Prince, I was not allowed to have a "relationship" with any of the female warriors or any other woman that I would come across. The bastard only allowed me access to the ship's whores because they could not bear children. After all it wouldn't do for the Sayian Prince to breed an heir now would it?

That was one order that I took great delight in disobeying. I would purposely seek out women and seduce them into my bed. Pleasuring them so intensely that their screams rang though the corridors of the ship, heralding that I really was a man, no matter what He did to me. That was what it really was about. I could care less if the females got off with me. I just needed to prove to myself that I was a man and not His bitch. The beatings that I would receive afterwards were the most satisfying. The lizard's rage would spill over to the woman I spent the night with and they would end up dead for their indiscretion, but I did not care. Soon no females on the ship would sleep with me, no matter the rumors of my expertise, it was not worth it. So I would find women to satisfy me on the worlds that I would visit.

I stand on the roof of the GR, surveying the sprawling city before me. I have slipped through its back alley's and dingy pool halls. I have seen "humanity" and I am comforted by it. Living at Capsule Corp had made me wonder if these humans were made of sunshine and cotton candy as the onna seemed to believe, but they are not. I have seen the degradation and pain they cause each other. It is the same the universe over, beings like to hurt each other, it is a primal pleasure.

I glance back at Capsule Corp. The onna is supposed to be well- traveled, yet she still believes in the innate goodness of everyone, even myself. Which is why she may have asked me to stay here in the first place. I was shocked that day when she had approached me. I could smell her fear and a hint of arousal which had made me smirk all too knowingly. The onna wanted me, so she briefly conquered her fear and invited me into her home. However since that day she has avoided me like the plague. Looks like her fear got the better of her after all. Poor, perfect onna.

The more I observed her and her blatant pleasure at living the more I want to crush her silly dreams of love. I want to see her writhe with the realization that evil does exist. In fact, it existed in her very home. It isn't fair that someone should have so much.

I float up into the sky and fly back to Capsule Corp. It is summer and I have discovered that the onna leaves her balcony doors open while she sleeps so that there is a cool breeze in her rooms. She is coddled and protected and so she never considers that someone could intrude into her castle. I smirk, the onna has nothing to fear but me. I am her nightmare.

I drift across to room, without even a whisper of sound and stop to stand above her while she sleeps. She is so peaceful while she lays there, sprawled out on her back, her arms thrown wide. She is unhindered even in her sleep, knowing no pain, only the peace of contentment.

I reach down grasping the corner of the sheet and pull it off her, revealing her body to me. She has painted her toenails--again. I roll my eyes at her odd primping habits. My eyes trail up her pale smooth legs, so often revealed to me when she prances around in her short skirts and cutoff shorts. She is wearing pink panties with something scrawled across the top with sparkling letters. I squint my eyes to see it better. Princess, it reads. I almost snort. She has on a spaghetti strapped top that is bunched at her waist leaving her flat midriff bare showing her belly button. Her breasts swell lusciously, almost falling out over the low cut neckline. Finally my gaze stops again on her face. Her aqua hair flows over her pillows in reckless abandon framing her perfect features. Gods, she really is beautiful.

When she first began to tease the edges of my mind, I had thought it must be because she was the only available woman in my area. The onna is beautiful, there is no denying that, and she is the only one here in my age bracket.

I have ventured out across the world on my numerous trips away from Capsule Corps and I have sampled many Earth women. From delicate Asian beauties to French madams and while they all had their own unique feel, I always came back to the blue onna. I can't get her out of my mind.

I reach out my hand, trailing my fingers down her porcelain cheek to rest on the fluttering pulse of her neck. I lay my other palm flat on her stomach and nearly jump at the shock of electricity that jolts through me. I glance up at the onna but she doesn't move. Touching her always ignites a pleasure within me that I have never felt before. I don't fully understand the sensation, but I enjoy it immensely. I move my hand further down, skimming across her panties to rest at the juncture of her thighs. My middle finger slides down her cleft to rest against her most tantalizing spot. I am rewarded with her light scent of arousal perfuming the air. The onna shifts in her sleep but does not awaken.

I sit like that for a few minutes, applying only slight pressure to her bud. Eventually her legs shift apart, giving me greater access. I move my finger subtly, teasing her clit until it swells and her panties become damp. The onna turns her head and moans lightly. Her hips jerk and her pulse races with unconscious desire.

I remove my other hand from her neck, sliding it down to rest on her breast. I flick her already hardened nipple with my thumb and her back arches a little in response. Her head lolls back on her graceful neck, her petal soft lips parting as her breathes come in pants. The onna is very sensitive to touch.

I apply more pressure to her slicked flower, causing the friction to grow as I massage her breast gently. Her hips begin to rock with the rhythm that I create and I can feel her climax building. I pull down her top, setting her nipple free as I lean down and lick its crest. I bite down on the nub and the woman jerks as her climax washes over her. She throws her head back, releasing a load moan of delight and her pale thighs became slick with her juices.

Her eyes flutter as she begins to wake from the rollicking emotions that flowed through her. Vaguely she notes the pressure of hands on her breast and crotch, but when she finally opens her eyes, there is no one in the room.