Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Himitsu ❯ [Chapter .02] ( Chapter 3 )

[ 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!
Notes: This fic is inspired by some artwork I'd done recently, "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.

| ...words... | denotes thought.


[ Chapter .02 ]


All I had to do was ask.

Imagine... actually getting permission to be a pervert.

| Yea. That's what I am. And have technically always been. I just needed a chance
circumstance to bring it out. I did learn to read from articles in porno magazines after all. |

I had the okay, which was a miracle in itself. What I needed now, was an alibi.

The weeks pass and it gets harder and harder to slip away whenever Bejiita and
Bulma feel like doing indecent things to each other. I have a feeling today is going to be
especially difficult.

I've finally memorized Chichi's, and Goten's daily patterns, hoping it would help me
get away from the house unnoticed more often, in case I didn't have a legitimate reason to
leave. Such as chopping fire wood, catching fish for dinner, or sparring, or saving the world etc.
The world needs no saving. Even I have to admit that we have insane amounts of food, and
I'v nearly chopped down half the trees near the house already, and it's summer time. So
figuring out good times to leave will come in handy.

Chichi is most busy and distracted just before and after meal times. It's also the time
she is most angry, and thus it's already the best time to avoid her. Cooking for the equivalent
of 15 people for at least two meals a day for two men that probably don't appreciate her as
much as they should, would make anyone a bit cranky.

Spending more time with Chichi has taught me that I really was "not always the best
husband, but I had my good points." Apparently saving the world did not quite count as a good
point because it took my away from home for too long. Not to mention she doesn't know I'm
probably the worst but luckiest peeping-tom in the world as well. But enough about that.

Now, Goten's schedule is a bit different, in that he doesn't really have one.

"Dad!! Mama! I'm going to out! Maybe I'll catch a movie.." he said this morning, already
half way out the door before his sentence was finished.

"When will you be back?" Chichi yelled from her pile of dishes. Goten had already taken
flight. His shaggy mane whips in the wind

"What!?...." his voice seeming distant as he sped away. Of course Goten was not so far away
that he couldn't answer. Goten got away with this sort of thing every other day. Especially
on the weekends.

Chichi had finally loosened Goten's leash and allowed him to stay out more now that he
was older. Not that she could really have stopped him anyway. He could be gone from sunrise to
sunset but still manage to pop in for meals. Smart kid. I tried the same thing one day, but needless
to say my leash is not so long. My dearest wife has "had it up to here with my disappearing acts."
Screaming and ranting and raving about again how I was not around enough. So basically if she
doesn't see me for at least 1/3 of the day everyday, I can forget about meals and performing my
"sinful duties."

After having spent so much time with the sexually liberated couple, I realize just how
old fashioned my Chichi was. And I'd actually felt the same way once.

[ ..... ]

Lunch was devoured in record time today. I went out of my way to make a mess so that Chichi would be
completely, and utterly swamped with work. And that will afford me at least an hour of complete peace.
You might be thinking, why doesn't she ask me to help clean up? How on earth can she allow me to be
so slovenly and not help with the tidying? Well as good as I am at eating and fighting, luckily I'm rather
useless when it comes to housework. As much as I train, I'd be more likely to break a dish before I
could ever wash it.

So instead I lay out back in the tweed hammock, just enjoying the feeling of a full belly, the
grass under my fingers, and warm sun on my face. The very picture of a spoiled husband.

It is 12:32 exactly when I feel his signal.

The hairs on my arms and the back of my neck stand on end, and a silly little grin tugs at my lips.

Such perfect timing Bejiita.

Dishes clatter, and cutlery dings against glass and porcelain noisily. Chichi mutters to herself
as she scrubs and sloshes the plates. I slip away unnoticed.

[ ..... ]

"Woman! Hurry up! The cherries are itching me!!!" Bejiita hollers in Bulma's general direction as he shifts
on the bed. His arms and legs are spread and tied to each corner of them bed with velvet rope.

| Only regular rope? like that's going to hold him. |

He's blindfolded. Again. He seems to like not seeing, and only feeling. He also seems
to like being bound, but why?

Bulma, wearing nothing but a devilish smile she undoubtedly picked up from Bejiita , all but
skips into the room with whipped cream, chocolate sauce, and caramel in tow. "Hello Son-Kun!" She chirps,
having absolutely no problem with my voyeurism. And Bejiita, who welcomed it, smiles at her entrance.
The bed dips as Bulma crawls across it, shaking the can as she settles above her captive. Whipped cream
froths out in uneven little spurts. She surrounds the cherry covering his right nipple with a generous
amount of sticky, white goodness. She does the same for his left.

Sex and food is also something completely new to me. I loved the idea immediately.

Dropping the sweet condiments onto the bed, she deftly licks the cream off of him. Bejiita shifts,
rumpling the sheets, as he breathes a little deeper. She laps up the last bit of cream before capturing
the stem of the cherry with her fingertips and popping it into her mouth. She moves to lavish the other nipple
with the same attention.

"Unn.." The smallest of moans slips out from Bejiita's partially open mouth. The first of many. I sit
back languidly feeling warmer as I watch her reach for another cherry. I can only imagine what she'll do
next when she sits back to think.

"Hmm." Chocolate? Or.. caramel?" she asks, really only talking to her self.

"Cho..colate..." The word comes out in a breathy whisper. I love chocolate, especially since I don't
get it very often. Bulma just winked at me and reached for the chocolate syrup. She drizzles it
in a straight line down over the contours of his taut stomach and over his erection. He squirms as the cool syrup comes into contact with his much hotter skin. She drops the syrup on the bed and goes for the cream
again. She surrounds the base of his shaft making a sundae of him. Even down to the cherry at the tip of
his penis.

"Hss...!!" Bejiita; breathing hard now, arches his hips towards her mouth just as her tongue makes
first contact. She makes quick work of the syrup on his stomach and moves down to where I'm sure he
really would like her undivided attention.

"Uh...UHHh!" He lets out a much longer and louder moan now. I begin to salivate as she laps at
his chocolate and cream covered member hungrily. Like a woman that hadn't eaten in days. My stomach
flutters and I feel pin pricks under my skin as he whimpers and tries to push himself in and out of her
mouth only moments after she's started. Her plump, pink lips becoming slack, then tight around him. Just
as they always do, except this time it is her mouth he was thrusting in to. He's very impatient today.
"Mm..mm" She swallows him whole, making long, almost exaggerated slurps. Her throat works around him.
"Nnnhh.. NNH!" Bejiita's growls and whines are more needy with each passing minute. Sweat begins to
bead up on his forehead and his breathing turns ragged. As does mine. The more he enjoys it, the more
I enjoy watching. The louder he is, the more painful my erection becomes.

My erections are always a surprise to me. One moment it's flaccid, and in seemingly no
time at all there is it, pointing up at me. Accusingly. Asking why isn't there a warm mouth wrapped
around its base too. Asking why I'm here so often watching and getting hard but not satisfied when
it and I could be home doing 'indecent' things to Chichi instead. It really and truly does seem to have
a mind of its own.

I swallow the excess of saliva that had built up in my mouth. Why I don't know. My hardened
flesh throbs. My hands suddenly itch to feel warm, slick skin under them. It is quite strange. Confused,
I ignore the itching feeling, but soon it grows so strong that when I finally squelch it, my strength
felt absolutely sapped. I settle back completely on the pillow I was leaning on, suddenly too weak to sit
up. I shudder pleasantly. My breath coming in pants as it always does. "INNh..Hnn!!" Bejiita moans piteously
when Bulma nips and laps at his sticky tip wetly. He is most sensitive there I'd learned. Gritting his teeth
and growling slightly, he pulls at his 'restraints.' "NNNngk!...uh..UH!....shit...!" He writhes deliriously
under the onslaught of Bulma's talents. He's close. You can always tell by the profanity. The bed creaks
and the rope begins to fray under the strength of his pulling.

| Almost there... |

"Gnh..AHHHhh!!!" He shouts with his head thrown back. His muscles tensing all at the same time
as he shook violently. His seed flowing into her waiting mouth and down her chin. Swallowing most of it,
she leans down to retrieve the last cherry that had rolled onto the bed with her teeth. She brings it to
his panting mouth and waits for him to catch his breath. She pushes the cherry between his lips with her tongue
before leaning in for a kiss. I've seen them do so many things to each other. But oddly enough, kissing was
a rarity. They share one of their few tender moments, and I am lucky enough to witness it.

They part not long after, and Bejiita, still blindfolded, tilts his head up to lap at his own release
that runs, and drips down Bulma's chin with broad sweeps of his tongue. Even though they had already
finished, even after all the things I've seen today, only that makes my face burn. I swallow audibly again,
and my head spins as I watch him slurp up his own seed. A strange little tremble races up my spine and I lick
my lips.

Bulma, now cleaned off, just smiles warmly at him while she leans to untie him. He tests, and bends,
and stretches his now free arms and legs. Bulma throws on a robe and gathers the goodies to put them back
in the kitchen. She walks out of the room and Bejiita sits up and pushes the blindfold out of the way of one
eye and watches her leave. Smirking. As always.

"Enjoy the show?"

My red face and erection are answer enough. I thumb the fraying, velvet rope left on the rumpled
bed as he removes the blindfold completely. "Bejiita..." I start, speaking for the first time in a while. My
throat dry. He looks at me with the calmness, and confidence of a man who is so thoroughly, and completely
happy with his sex life.

"What?" he says evenly, getting up to stretch. Not even trying to cover his nudity.

Holding the rope I ask; "What... why do you let her do these things? Why the rope? I... I mean these can't
really hold you..." Clearing my throat I continue. "And that... vibrator she-"

"Because she likes feeling like she's in control..."

I just blink at him.

And besides... I like that vibrator..." He smirks then, saying nothing more.

"Hmmm."

Minutes pass when I realize I've been gone a bit longer than I should have.

"Shouldn't you be getting home to your wife?"

I suppose so...

[ ..... ]

My mind is a whirl of thoughts as I fly home.

In many of their trysts, Bulma seems to be dominant or the aggressor. Anyone who'd
only caught a glimpse or a snapshot might only see a man tied and blindfolded while a woman
forces a foreign object into one of his orifices. As if Bejiita were at her "mercy."
But I learned today that any control Bulma thinks she may have over him is only granted
because Bejiita allows it. All her spanking, or hot wax couldn't sting him. All the vibrators in the world,
on any setting, couldn't penetrate him. Unless he let them. In order for any of what Bulma
does to him to be affective, or arousing, he must substantially lower his ki.

So he merely gives Bulma the illusion of dominance.

In reality, Bejiita decides everything. How much to let the wax or whip sting
his smooth skin. How far to let their steamy, perverted games go. How and when he
will reach orgasm. Everything. Like exactly how much I'll enjoy watching. How much
of what I see will affect me. Even down to when the scene before me will be intense
enough to make me release right in my pants. Without participating. Without ever having
been touched. I think that is the reason he suggested I stay that day and witness what
they do. Yes. It was his idea, not Bulma's. He gets off on the control, and the idea that
no one realizes he even has it until it's too late.

I suppose I could see the whole situation as me having stumbled onto their little
secret. I could try to throw the so called balance of power and threaten to tell people
about what goes on here. Tell people exactly how Bejiita "likes it." Or what a freak the
princess of Capsule Corp is with her alien boyfriend. Maybe I'd even demand they let me
participate. But I couldn't do that.

Look but never touch. Married man.

Of all the spanking, and bondage, and nipple clamps, that's probably the
most painful, overwhelming bit of sexual torture that goes on during their trysts. "Making"
me watch, while they and my conscience forbid me from ever joining in. Never letting me
taste their pleasure

Not even once.

And what's more, they know I could easily tell someone. Expose them for what they
are. But I won't. Because in baring their secret, I'd also bare mine. If anything it makes me
worse than they. Like the people who complain how pathetic a man who sat at a bar all night
drinking and crying was, while they sat there all night watching him do it. Bejiita had his
blindfold and ropes, but what really binds me is my own obsession with watching
them. Or perhaps it's just them all this time that fascinated me, not the sexy things
they do to each other.

Either way, it's our little secret, and I am bound to keep it.

[ ..... ]

With the addition of my new past time, what I used to call normal life is anything but.
I'm amazed at how difficult... or at least unique the whole situation has made my life.
For one, I had not foreseen how difficult sparring with Bejiita would be in the following weeks.

Bejiita pants and growls as he repeatedly rams a fist into my stomach. I deliver
a well timed kick to his unprotected side. "GNnn!...Uh!!" He lets out that guttural yell I am all
too familiar with. I instantly felt several degrees warmer when I realize how similar his sounds
of pain were to those of pleasure. That strange, throaty way he gasps, and hollers. The way he
grits his teeth against both pain and pleasure. He careens towards the ground. After skidding
to a halt, he kneels down with one arm supporting him, the other over where I kicked him. Dust
clears as he pants harshly. His sweat dripping down over his nose and heaving chest as he struggles to
catch his breath. Normally I would give him time to recover before continuing.

But I feel oddly compelled not to.

I run and kicked him back into the air, and listen for the resulting screech of
shock and pain. I pummel him with my fists and legs, only to be interrupted every now
and then by a swift jab to my jaw. We continue like this for a while. I lose myself in the
violent abandon.

When I next become aware, I have him pinned to the ground. He snarls, but partially
smiles at me. Blood dripping through his teeth, and down the side of his chin.

"So you're finally taking me seriously..."

Crimson from my forehead drips down my face and splatters on his neck and
chest. It pools and runs around the contours of his muscles to the ground below. At that
precise moment an image of his seed and the way he came on himself, or on Bulma's back when he
released a particularly heavy load comes to mind. The way the milky substance would
turn translucent when warmed by body heat and run across her curvy back, or along his
throbbing shaft. I stare down at him and watch him bleed, watch his skin sweat. Watch his
throat work as he breathes. Watch his tired muscles bunch, and quiver, and strain to lift
his body while I pin it down with my own. Scenes of what he had done, and what
he allowed to be done to him replays itself behind my eyes at a most inappropriate time.

"-- re heavy! Get off." I finally hear him say. His tone annoyed. He's probably
noticed my erection. Long before I did. He notices that this spar is not typical. Nor is
my reddened face. Though somehow he doesn't realize his poor choice of words.

Yes I'd learned much these past few weeks.

"Get OFF me..." looking less amused and more angry now. He would not say it again,
and I would not wait around to see where this was going.

I blink, as if coming out of a trance and leap off of him as if he burned. Which he does.
He looks at me knowingly while adjusting what was left of his blue training outfit. I try so
hard not to notice the way the setting sun gleams off the beads of sweat on his alabaster
skin, or his skin's lack of proper covering. Hmm. I'm not used to seeing him in the daylight
anymore. He's not as tanned as the dark of Bulma's room would lead you to believe.
It's also only after I've seen him naked that I realize how tight and revealing his clothing
really is. He turns to face me.

Much too tight.

"Go cool off..." he says, in a low rumble of a voice. Speaking volumes with only 3 words
before he turns away and flies home.

I look at the tent in my pants and then at the nearby lake. "Yea..."


Continued.

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