Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Himitsu ❯ [Chapter .00 (Prologue)] ( Chapter 1 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

Warnings: kink, fetish, very lemony, het, yaoi, steamy, language. Enjoy ^^Disclaimer: I own nothing. Just using the characters for my own amusement. So don't sue! | ...words... | denotes thought.

Notes: This fic is inspired by some artwork I'd done recenly, "Sunset Kink" There
is actually a lot of story behind that pic that you may, or may not have picked up on.
So here it is.

[ .00 ] [ Prologue ]


The deep red of his velvet blindfold catches the dwindling sunlight as it seeps
through an open window. The air is warm, and thick and tinged with the smell of Bejiita's
sweat as I try to breathe it in with harsh, little pants. The gentle breeze flows past the
whispy, white curtains. They wrinkle and wave through the air but make no sound.
Or rather ...I can hear nothing over the throaty moans of the man next to me.

"Oonnn!!" another groan forces its way out and he writhes on the bed. Lying on his
stomach, rumpling the already wrinkled, pink striped sheets. Stained in various places.
Still wet and sticky in others. All, evidence of what has gone on in this bed.

"INnnnn..nhh!.." He lets out a needy, almost pitiful whine. His muscular back arches
and the arms tied behind him strain as a vibrating pink phallus is pushed further into him.
I feel the heat of the room creep from my cheeks down to the insistent throb between my
legs. He's more sensitive than usual today.

And thus, so am I.

Bejiita's powerful legs bend and straighten in a attempt to push himself back and forth
onto the vibrator and into the bed. Gasping, and grunting, and panting, and trying to ease the
pressure on what I'm sure is a painful erection. Just like mine. The only difference is
something will be done about his. With the aid of Bulma and her mastery and knowledge
of his body's needs, he will find his screaming release in one way or the other.

But I won't.

Kneeling between his spread legs, Bulma leans in closer. The sparse light gleaming off of
the sheer nylon of her lacy thigh highs. She smirks and whispers something obscene as she turns
the vibration off in favor of pushing the pink member into his tight orifice as far as it will go.

"GNnn!...uh!..UH!" he screams, mouth agape, face turned to the side. His burning,
flushed cheek against the cool sheets. That slick sound of wet suction makes itself known
to my ears. "AAhhhuh!!!" Bulma's apparatus disappears and reappears into his reddened,
spank marked backside in double time. "Nnnnnnhhh.."

He shudders wantonly, and so do I.

I swallow, I assume audibly. Long, red finger nails flick over dials and buttons of
vibrator controls. It was weeks before I learned the name of what it was she so enjoyed
to use on him. What I so enjoyed watching her use. What Bejiita enjoyed having used on him.
Her fingers' movements, and the tempo she'd set were deliberate, purposeful, and practiced,
as if she'd done this a thousand times. Like it were a mundane, everyday occurrence.

Except today wasn't like every other day, because somehow every day was different and
new when I came here. When I watched them. When they let me.

Yes. "They" let me.

You assumed because I do not announce my presence to them when I watch that I was an
unknown vouyer.

You were wrong.

You assumed that because Bejiita is usually blindfolded that he would not know his so called
rival was there, burning his perspiring, tanned skin with his eyes every other day.

Again. You were wrong.

You assumed I was a sexual innocent, who wouldn't be caught dead in such a tawdry scene.
And until a few weeks ago you would have been right. But not now.

I want to be here.
They know I'm here.
They invited me here.
And I am no innocent...


continued
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