Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ In the Control Seat ❯ Planet of the Quetzelcoatls ( Chapter 5 )
[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
By: StarbearerTM 
Trunks and Pan's trysting doesn't go unnoticed as the natives of the latest planet they visit take notice and are not happy about 2 saiyans visiting!
Anime/Manga: Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Sci-fi / Romance / Hentai | Type: Divergence | Uploaded On: 03.06.2009 | Updated On: 03.06.2009 | Pages: 2 | Words: 6.7K | Visits: 583 | Status: Completed
Trunks and Pan's trysting doesn't go unnoticed as the natives of the latest planet they visit take notice and are not happy about 2 saiyans visiting!
Anime/Manga: Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Sci-fi / Romance / Hentai | Type: Divergence | Uploaded On: 03.06.2009 | Updated On: 03.06.2009 | Pages: 2 | Words: 6.7K | Visits: 583 | Status: Completed
Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Ball Z or GT. Akira Toriyama created the characters/anime/manga, and they are owned by Toei Animation Co Ltd, Shonen Jump. I make no money from the writing of this fan fiction. The idea of the Quetzalcoatl's was suggested by Bulmathebabe.
Written for Bulmathebabe who loves Trunks/pan pairings. Note pan is 17 in this, so their relationship is not illegal. If reading this pairing freaks you out don't go any further!
Control Seat to Passenger Seat
Planet Quetzalcoatl
Something hard and smooth pressed to his cheek. Trunks Brief's nostrils twitched with the aroma of frying meat. Indeed he could hear it sizzling along with the popping hiss of a campfire. Lavender eyelashes fluttered, reveling the blue eyes beneath. They struggled to focus out of the haze of bright mingled with shadow. Dense cobwebs seemed wrapped around his brain. Every limb seemed made of lead. Though he was surprised to see the light of day still burning around him. Once pasty pale skin the hue of Gohan's was now its former shade. Throughout the trip he was getting a protective tan.
“I was wondering when you'd wake up, Trunksey!” Pan's cheerful voice split his eardrums.
“Mmm, five more minutes,” he wanted to say. Two feet stood near his head, deliciously bare as the legs his eyes traveled up. Then he recognized one of the towels wrapped around her waist. Blinking down at himself he realized he was covered by one of the towels from waist to knee.
“Get dressed, your Highness,” Pan whispered. Her head and shoulders now dipped into view, upside down. A soft sweet kiss pressed fleetingly to his lips and then it was gone. Rumpled cloth hit him in the face when he sat up and stretched. His fingers curled around the familiar cloth of his shorts.
“Why didn't you wake me?” he protested.
“You looked so peaceful I hated to move your cute butt, that's why. Besides, you're mister anal compulsive you need to have some time to rest that mouth of yours!” Pan teased.
Chuckling at her comment Trunks shed the improvised blanket. He turned his back for a second while stepping into the shorts. Out of the side of his vision he noticed that Pan's skirt wasn't a skirt but was a pair of his boxer briefs. A slight smirk crept across his face that he hid from her. Stories crossed his thoughts that he overheard his mom whispering to chichi on the phone. Or snippets of stories that Goten had bragged about. Memories of Marron and other girls he'd known. Yet their faces were dim and distant with the recent memories of Pan.
“Hello, are you awake or sleepwalking, Trunksy?” Pan called. He winced.
“Ugh, give it a rest!”
“Well as long as you call me Panny, then get used to it, Capsule Prince,” she shot back.
Trunks glanced down at the shorts and then hunted for his shirt. Something else collided softly with his head and he recognized the smell and texture of the garment. Gratefully he tugged it on, covering the sensitive skin that was starting to burn. Ever since blinking awake his stomach churned in anticipation. Now he shoved feet into his shoes and strode up to the circle of stones Pan had collected. Her pack sat open about five feet away, and he saw the folding cooking rack bearing a pot over the burning fire. Next to it slices of meat sizzled in a frying pan she bent over to rustle and scrape with a spatula.
Reaching for a melon, Trunks pointed his finger. A blue glow sparkled to life, forming a tiny blade. Expertly he sliced off pieces of the bright blue succulence. He grasped another, and then sliced it in the same manner with his ki. It gave him much needed practice in controlling his energy finely.
“I was wondering when you'd wake up, Trunksey!” Pan's cheerful voice split his eardrums.
“Mmm, five more minutes,” he wanted to say. Two feet stood near his head, deliciously bare as the legs his eyes traveled up. Then he recognized one of the towels wrapped around her waist. Blinking down at himself he realized he was covered by one of the towels from waist to knee.
“Get dressed, your Highness,” Pan whispered. Her head and shoulders now dipped into view, upside down. A soft sweet kiss pressed fleetingly to his lips and then it was gone. Rumpled cloth hit him in the face when he sat up and stretched. His fingers curled around the familiar cloth of his shorts.
“Why didn't you wake me?” he protested.
“You looked so peaceful I hated to move your cute butt, that's why. Besides, you're mister anal compulsive you need to have some time to rest that mouth of yours!” Pan teased.
Chuckling at her comment Trunks shed the improvised blanket. He turned his back for a second while stepping into the shorts. Out of the side of his vision he noticed that Pan's skirt wasn't a skirt but was a pair of his boxer briefs. A slight smirk crept across his face that he hid from her. Stories crossed his thoughts that he overheard his mom whispering to chichi on the phone. Or snippets of stories that Goten had bragged about. Memories of Marron and other girls he'd known. Yet their faces were dim and distant with the recent memories of Pan.
“Hello, are you awake or sleepwalking, Trunksy?” Pan called. He winced.
“Ugh, give it a rest!”
“Well as long as you call me Panny, then get used to it, Capsule Prince,” she shot back.
Trunks glanced down at the shorts and then hunted for his shirt. Something else collided softly with his head and he recognized the smell and texture of the garment. Gratefully he tugged it on, covering the sensitive skin that was starting to burn. Ever since blinking awake his stomach churned in anticipation. Now he shoved feet into his shoes and strode up to the circle of stones Pan had collected. Her pack sat open about five feet away, and he saw the folding cooking rack bearing a pot over the burning fire. Next to it slices of meat sizzled in a frying pan she bent over to rustle and scrape with a spatula.
Reaching for a melon, Trunks pointed his finger. A blue glow sparkled to life, forming a tiny blade. Expertly he sliced off pieces of the bright blue succulence. He grasped another, and then sliced it in the same manner with his ki. It gave him much needed practice in controlling his energy finely.
***
Silently two pairs of bright eyes blinked from among the leaves of one of the trees. Scales glistened among bright feathers that blended seamlessly with the wildflower blossoms. Other parts of the sinuous bodies hooked claws onto the limbs. Neither Trunks nor Pan noticed that the slight rustling in the overhead trees was due to 2 living beings. Two sentient beings.
“See how they define their roles so blatantly, Yetaxa?” hissed the male.
“Yes it is pathetic, Popocatepetl,” she answered, equally disgusted. Lips and tongues moved but there was no audible speech. Nods were exchanged, and then keys were pressed on wrist devices.
“Shall I report back to base, Yetaxa?”
“Do so. Mastrex Ixlachuatel and the council should be informed. Tell them their suspicions were true. We'll need all the precautions,” Yetaxa nodded.
“At your command Primer,” he answered, raising the frill of feathers around his head in salute. Then the first snaked down the tree, his torso undulating with only the softest rustle.
Leaving the second, Primer Yetaxa of Heliotrope Defense Squad, to continue her vigil. Her amber eyes blinked sideways, the slit pupil muscles opening their figure 8 wider in disgust. The sharp claws of her hands dug into the bark of the flora tree more tightly. She struggled to stop the swishing of her feathery tail. Though the rill of feathers framing her serpentine face did flare out like the other flowers. They had seen the bright blue burst of power around the lavender haired ape. Not to mention the evil set of his eyes. Could it be that the Monkey Prince had spawned?
Through the underbrush the male Quetzalcoatl crawled half on his rear legs, partly on his front to a hidden entrance. He popped beneath, his body flexile and yielding as a felines. Only the shake of his feathery tail heralded his egress. The city needed to be alerted, and the proper measures had to be taken.
***
“Woman, when's the food ready?” Trunks cupped his hands. A playful grin twitched the corners of his handsome lips up. The tense knot that had tied at the start of the entire trip was all but unwound now. Trunks dark hair had bleached to its former lavender glory while his pasty pale skin now gleamed golden tan as it had as a child. Every bit of him blistered with muscle, while his blue eyes twinkled with the feralness of his father Prince Vegeta. In every way he had regained his bearing and sense of mischief.
“Excuse me that woman crap might work with your dad and mom but not me!” Pan shot back. A small smile crept over her face as well, liking the verbal banter. He truly was the Capsule Prince, and a spoiled brat, but gone was the harried executive who wanted nothing more than to run from his job. Now he was much as she remembered him in her uncle's stories of old. Perhaps the trip had granted him a drink of much needed youth. While age had not taken its toll, a pampered life had. Now he was free of that mass of paperwork and restless fretting soft life. Able to explore and conquer worlds of knowelge while saving Earth from eminent demise.
“Well you hate being called a girl, and you're a woman to me. My woman,” Trunks said as he stalked.
When Pan straightened up from cooking she felt Trunks arm snare his waist. Walking backwards Trunks plopped himself down on a broad rock and planted Pan in his lap. She opened her mouth in protest, but stopped when she felt herself sitting astride strong thighs. “Trunks! What are you…?”
“Shh woman, c'mere,” he whispered in her ear. Pan's protests died in her throat when Trunks nibbled her neck and licked her earlobe.
“What about food, your highness,” she quipped, trying to get a rise out of him.
“Both at once,” Trunks murmured, nodding towards the food she had set aside on a broad rock.
“Uh huh, you've got two arms,” she bantered.
“Well woman, we can share this repast together,” he purred, feeling especially playful. Perhaps it was the good sex, or the start of something more. Pan wasn't going to turn it down because he was certainly far less irritating like this.
***
“It is a Royal spawn. He orders his mate around just as an Apeling prince would,” snorted Yetaxa in disgust. The very animalistic gleam in those blue eyes, with their shape and the angular features were burned forever in their brains. It was a lighter version of their hated destroyer, the one who had purged their homeworld and necessitated the flight to this second place of refuge.
Tales circulated the known solar systems of the Saiyan Prince Vegeta. How many worlds he had cleared and sold into the hand of the Tsurujin. Those that had survived had found new homes but only after many years of exploration and hiding.
Further tales reached them of the younger brother. Who was tamed and subdued by the native population. he was a rare exception, with no fight. The inhabitants of that world were funloving and peaceful, capable of charming anyone. They had well domesticated the younger Beast prince, but that was an anomaly.
Now the cancer had reached their second homeworld. They had seen the youngest apeling with its hated brown tail and voracious appetite emerge first. Then the older two, presumably older and having hid their tails no doubt were taking whatever they wanted. All inhabitants hid in the city shafts and plotted. It was greater than then anticipated. A golden opportunity to make the Saiyans answer for their outrage. Who better than the spawn of the Prince himself? If that was he, then they would known. Even if he wasn't, they would make fitting subjects for the High one's zoological garden. After all that is where savage killers as them belonged.
Another few keys on her wristband continued the recording of the activities. After the apelings ate they would be the most vulnerable. Yet was this female simply a slave, as so common in the disgusting harem customs of primates, or truly a mate?
***
A rasher of salty grilled meat was thrust past Trunks lips. Balanced across his lap, Pan cut off strips of the creature she had hunted earlier and fed them to him. The smooth surface of the boulder was one of the few comfortable places to sit, and Trunks wanted Pan to enjoy herself. He was certain she was a bit sore with all their recent couplings.
In turn Trunks grabbed slices of fruit he'd sliced before. Juice dripped between his fingers as he lifted them to pan's lips. She snaked out her tongue to lap them up and licked his fingertips in the process. It grew more and more difficult to ignore the feelings burning in their loins. Ever more frequently their need to mate seemed to grow. It was frightening to both.
Pan and Trunks slowly devoured their repast. While waiting for Goku to return the time had stretched out considerably longer and longer. More fruit juice dripped onto Pan's shirt and she momentarily pulled a face. Already she had washed the red T shirt, and was not anxious to repeat the process. Trunks bent over to lick the trail of juice on her cheek and she could not hold back the hunger. She swiveled around so that her bottom pressed hard into his crotch. Then she draped her thighs and straddled him so she faced him.
Blue electricity sparkled from his eyes to hers. He finished chewing the mouthful of meat, then leaned over to taste her lips. Pan twined arms around his neck, attacking his mouth with hers. Twisting lavender hair between her fingers she tugged on it. Fingers glided down her ribs while tugging up her shirt bottom on the upward pass. She seized his shirt and yanked it up out of his shorts almost ripping it.
“Trunks… I can't help it,” she gasped, grinding her hips on him. “I need…”
“I know, I'm here, Pan. Don't be afraid to yield to it” Trunks groaned, reaching at his belt to unfasten it.
“IT's just like… just like Papa described… when he was with…”
“Uh huh,” Trunks nodded, managing to get his shorts unfastened. Hastily she scooted back so he could rid himself of them. Clothes were rapidly peeled off in their haste to touch bare flesh, as urgent as the need to sate their need for food.
“Are we going… crazy?” she whispered. Trunks grabbed her by the back of her knees and dragged her forwards. He spun around so she was pressed on her back against the hard smooth stone. It was warm from the sun and soothing to the contact. Automatically Pan wrapped her legs around his hips while he lay her down and loomed over her.
Already she grasped his saiyanhood, rubbing and stimulating just how he liked. Trunks breath hissed through clenched teeth while he stroked and massaged her to the same point. To their mutual surprise they were already humming with the need to satiate, to rut. Vegeta's gruff words echoed in Trunks ears from years ago, preparing him for the bouts of insatiable times when Saiyans used sex to relieve stress.
Rutting was rutting, and sex was sex. One didn't need a mate to relieve rutting when they had not pair bonded. But this was a prime time for a Saiyan to try sex without the deeper bonds. Using one another to relieve needs was not unknown. Yet once the exchange and the bonding were done, then it was the duty of the male and female to rut or mate when their bodies desired it.
Videl had taught Pan much about pleasuring herself. In a similar fashion Bulma had taught Bra about various toys and games to satisfy a libido. Both had hoped such use of toys would be better than having sex with others. Goten and Trunks themselves dated many girls together over the years. Sex with humans scratched that itch well enough. Nevertheless the mid aged need to mate permanently and bond would assert itself and then it would be ripe for the completion. Over the years outsiders saw only the rutting phase of exploration before mating and assumed Saiyan were promiscuous. The Saiyan kept the true nature of their bonding a secret lest it be used as a weakness.
Because she was half human Bra had felt the urge more strongly. Pan was even more human and the crossing of the gen pools tripled her rutting urge. It wasn't a surprise when she sought out real male companions to experiment with. Videl had kept this a secret from Gohan when she discovered Pan was sneaking out at a young age to the various parties that she would be forbidden if her father ever knew.
Memory snatches echoed in Trunks brain lately. Pieces of Pan's recollections were tumbling into his, and likewise. Though they tried to keep their memories separate it was inevitable there would be spillover. Nature drove them during this confined time towards the inevitable end result. Trunks had waited far too long to claim a mate, and it was coming on him with a vengeance. He had fancied Pan as a possibility but never seriously pursued it till he saw her blossom. Then the fear of her father's reprisal had pushed his relationship to skirt the platonic.
Almost a year alone had opened those doors and broken down those walls. Trunks thought back to that time when Pan had discovered his furtive attempts to sate himself. He relied on his hand and on the many sex tapes he had brought to relief his need. Bulma's sex toys were only so good for so long, or they would break down from constant use. Keeping them from Pan was a big challenge. Till she walked in and it was all over.
She had pretended not to see anything and quickly ducked out. Then Trunks smelled her so close and guessed what she had done. Or the many times she lay in bed and he heart her soft grunts as she shifted with her hand between her legs. Pan knew how to pleasure herself just as much as he did. He always gave her ample time in the bathroom and it was a relief that she could keep it secret.
One night it grew too much for either to bear. Trunks sat in the pilot's seat, with one of his mother's many toys relieving himself. He had grown carless in his choice of venue, but figured that Pan was occupied elsewhere. He had invented clever ways of concealing his receptacles as cans of soup or other items that nobody would suspect were sex toys.
So when she freaked out seeing his saiyanhood placed in what she thought was a cup of ramen, her confusion was warranted. Frustrated and shocked that he was so exposed Trunks felt his own anger and sanity blurring.
Pan's own hunger and ki blast had surged her blood and awakened that other hunger and she smelled his scent in the air. Almost possessed he had seized her, forcing her lips to his and tackling her. Pan had protested at first, yet when he felt the hungry return of the kiss he felt no resistance. When he had unbuttoned her pants she hastily reached down to help him before grabbing at his shirt. This further evidence weighed in favor of continuing. Fingers thrust into her womanhood surprised him for he felt no barrier.
Frantic whispers for help were met with Pan's hands squeezing his. Her whispered apology of the ki blast to his face and the net kisses blurred together. Then his furtive stabs and thrusts up and her cries mingled into a red haze. She had turned with her back to him, almost guessing the primal nature of such a position. In his anxious need to stop himself he pulled out and spilled his essence all over her. Preventing impregnation and the inevitable last spill of his seed brought realization crashing cold in his face.
“Pan…” he gasped. “I… I'm sorry…”
“No, I wanted it. So badly, but… was that all?” Pan panted, licking her lips. “You're still… here… you're a mess… let me help…”
Before he could voice another word she had leaned down to take him in her mouth. The ease with which she proceeded further dashed Trunks notion of violating and raping. No, she was not protesting by pleasuring him in this manner instead of another hard fast screw.
“I didn't hurt you,” he whispered. “Sorry I was so rough.”
“I'm used to it,” she had replied, stunning Trunks even more. When Goku was gone he grasped her and pulled her onto his lap.
“This time it will be for you. Do you trust me?” were his next words. Her smile and nod was all the permission he needed. Instinct and the smell of her acceptance told him that she knew it was rutting. Somehow though he wanted her to know there could be more.
Throughout the first time they made love, his questions were answered. They retreated to the sanctity and security of Trunks bedroom for that part of their exploration. On a comfortable double bed they kissed and explored one another's bodies at a more leisurly pace. Whispers of her first time escaped and filled in the gaps of logic that gaped. While straddling him and sighing at the delicious way Trunks filled her she confessed.
“You're so much gentler than he was,” the quarter saiyan moaned.
“Good,” Trunks groaned, lifting her by her hips with measured strokes. “I wanted to make up for… how hard I was…”
“You're hard now… smartass,” she quipped.
“Gentler then who? You… I thought you'd be…”
“A virgin?” Pan answered.
Trunks released her hips, stopping his thrusts. “Well…”
“I'm not your first Trunks, so why should you be so surprised. Or is it that double standard thing?” Pan frowned.
“Yes, and no,” Trunks answered. “But I want you to feel good with me. Tell me what you want, how you want it.”
“I'm surprised you didn't turn me away,” Pan whispered.
“I couldn't Pan. I'm no idiot. I knew you wanted this too. You're old enough now. And we're alone here… but for…”
“Grandpa,” she mouthed. Feeling vulnerable she tensed. Trunks immediately wrapped his strong arms around her and tugged her onto his chest. Pan sighed with surprise and delight with the new display of affection.
“No matter what happens, this is you and me now,” Trunks answered. “No bullshit about age, parents, or people telling us now. What happens here stays between us. I promise.”
“Even when we get home and you forget about me?” Pan asked.
“Or you forget about me?” Trunks added, with a hint of petulance. His arms tightened protectively, startling Pan.
“You've got your girls. Just like my uncle. But hey, I can deal,” Pan answered bravely. However her dark eyes were far less guarded, showing hurt.
“Who says I want to forget you?” Trunks growled warningly. “Whose business is it but ours?”
Pan said nothing to this, rather choosing a kiss to express her delight. Whatever answer she had expected and steeled herself for its rejection, this was far more promising. Trunks drank in that kiss, savoring each breath and caress that accepted his unspoken offer. His fingers caressed her soft cheeks tenderly. Spread out on the silken sheets Trunks shared his warmth and newfound affection.
“I'm not him, Pan. And you're not a replacement for whatever her you're filling in the blank with in your mind. I don't play that game. This is serious, for real. A choice between a man and a woman, got it?” Trunks firmly informed her.
“A man and a woman,” Pan nodded fondly, raining kisses over his face. “But when you meet that right person… I won't stand in the way.”
“Nor will I, Pan,” answered Trunks. “Whoever he is I'll be damn jealous of him. When you meet him, you'll know.”
Then the subject was dropped and they returned to the business at hand. He had never pushed it to the last phase which Vegeta called the `sealing'. Where blood would forever link their chemistries and knit their thoughts as one mind. Suspicion told him he had once looked on Bra's neck for such a mark, but found none.
***
That incredible high of his woman's teeth piercing his neck and lapping and feasting on his blood was something that he long desired. A first sharp penetration as fierce and Saiyan as any other instinct. Momentary sharpness of the u shaped indentation of teeth awakening the burning surge of primal hormones.
“AHHH!” Trunks shouted, shivering with extreme delight mingled with the pain of Pan's teeth in his neck. All the memories slid and spiraled down a torrential drain clearing for the sensations of here and now.
“I'm sorry!” Pan yelped pulling back. She frantically wiped the blood trickling from her lips. Dark eyes were wide with horror and fear.
“No… don't be…' Trunks panted his heart racing. “Just don't spit it out. Swallow it… quickly!”
“I… oh shit… I didn't mean to I…” the quarter Saiyan babbled.
“What's done is done Pan,” he gasped, waves of bliss rocking him. “Just relax. There's one solution.”
Nibbling at her tanned skin he soon set his teeth to it. Pan yelped loudly to feel the sharpness rending her skin to the vessels beneath. Iron sweetness wove its metallic tang into her unique flavor, boiling down his throat. Pan returned her face to the wound she'd opened, lapping at his blood as he did hers. Simultaneously Trunks thrust up into her small body violently, while Pan rocked her hips down and squeezed from within. Royal blue ki sizzled and crackled, mingling with the burst of pure white erupting from around Pan's body.
Warm spurts injected deeply into her along with the onrush of feelings. Intense images washed over each with the tingle of ki. All their muscles contracted while their bodies quaked and clung to one another in its wake.
“Mmm… Trunks…” she coughed between slips of blood. A scab already formed over the tender skin, and she felt Trunks licking delicately at hers. Angular purple brows furrowed, only to relax with Trunks relief. Pan still trembled overcome with the enormity of the coupling. Fear soon followed with doubt of what would next transpire. He could see and feel the doubts so clearly it stunned him as well. An impression of her father's reprisal or her mother's demanding to know why.
“It's okay Pan. It's going to be fine,” Trunks shushed her.
“Will it? Obviously you know what I'm thinking now…” she wondered.
“Only if you let me,” Trunks answered, nipping at her nose. Pan curled up in the shelter of his arms to shiver there. She allowed herself to let go of her tough exterior and allow Trunks to comfort her since there were no barriers between them. Both weary, they dozed together on the rock allowing the sun to warm them for a time.
Wind lightly rustled the trees as the day wore on. Lightly trunks snored, holding Pan in his arms. He did not stir when serpentine shapes gathered and hid behind the trees ringing the shore. Still in voices far too high for a human ear to pick out, the Quetzalcoatl exchanged words.
“Now is the time. While they are asleep,” Yetaxa nodded.
“The cages are in place. And we can place the collars on them while they sleep,” Popocatepetl agreed. Three others held aloft their wrists, gleaming with small crossbows.
“Tranqs wont' work. They will burn it off. Quickly Pyrexia and Xocali… put them on!” Yetaxa waved frantically. Blue feathers fluttered around Pyrexia's neck beside the golden brown of Xocali. Two blurs zipped past and darted to the shade of the rock.
Trunks snorted and shifted, blinking before he settled down. Tensely the two slithered up and clipped a bangle around the neck of the female. She murmured softly. Then a split second later they collared the male. Instantly Trunks blue eyes snapped open and they bolted away to behind the trees. Claws poised on the trigger, their bodies pressing erect to flatten with the tree trunks.
“What the hell,” Trunks gasped, rolling off the rock and holding pan as he did so. Their feet touched the ground and he turned so his back faced the trees.
“I heard something too!” Pan panted. She grabbed her shirt quickly, and tugged it on while Trunks snatched his shorts and stepped into them. Within seconds they hastily dressed.
“Who's there? I know I heard you! Don't hide from me!” Trunks shouted to the empty woods. Only a faint rustling and cacophony of sounds met him.
“What's that on your neck… and mine?” Pan exclaimed, grabbing the collar. She tripped as she shimmied into Trunks boxer shorts.
“What the fuck…” Trunks stammered, grabbing at the cold circle of metal. It pricked his skin and tingled like a mosquito bite.
“Trunks… in the trees!” pan pointed to sudden movement. She raised her hands, aiming them.
“Come out! I see you there!” Trunks bellowed. He backed up to stand back to back with Pan, his fingers crackling with blue ki.
“NOW!” Yetaxa whistled. Darts clicked into position, then twanged from six strings.
Pan and Trunks dodged out of the way, only to stumble. Something seemed very wrong. The blast he aimed at the source of the tiny rods fizzled out into nothingness. Horror filled his face. Pan felt the tip of something bite into her arm. She snatched it out and rolled to her feet.
“Trunks!” Pan yelled. “Behind you!”
She rushed over to help him up and he staggered against her. Wildly he glanced around, seeing the bright blurs of blue and gold circling them. More small rods pelted them and he clung to Pan to protect her. “I can't use my ki!” he shouted.
“Me neither! Trunks!” Pan despaired. She tugged at the small darts that seemed to be feeble weapons. Yet she noticed that they were hollow inside sloshing with fluid.
“Can't stand up… dammit…” Trunks moaned. “Pan, get out of here!”
“I'm not leaving you, stupid!” Pan cursed. Her fists flew out towards the blurring enemy that darted with a variation of the afterimage. Each punch connected with only empty space. Trunks staggered like a drunken man, wildly swinging and kicking. Unfortunately his legs wobbled and he crashed to the ground. Pan raced over to protect him, but couldn't fight the wooziness blurring her vision.
Her last vision was filled by the scaly faces of strangers. Such visages were framed with manes of rainbow ruffs of feathers. Varying from disgust to fascination they trilled in high pitched squeaks that made little sense. Almost like birds chirping. Hands poked and prodded them, while a gleaming network of bars dropped over them both. All Pan could do was drape herself over Trunks while blackness overrode the cacophony of light and sound.
“Get the cage. Good. Now we can build it around them,” Yetaxa ordered. “Xocali, Pyrexia, roll them onto the platform here. Popo… how long with the tranq's last?”
Glancing up towards the twin suns, Popocatepetl answered, “For ten slices. The metabolism of them fighting us will increase the ingestion rate. And we have samples we can genotype when we get back to the city.”
“Primer Yetaxa, it is good we witted for the Saiyan to clothe themselves,” Xocali agreed.
“Yes. We don't want these hideous hairy beasts to show their indecent parts to us. Though I'm sure Chichaniza will find it sport to find them garments mort suiting their animal status then these garments,” Yetaxa snorted. “Saiyan don't deserve such fine garments.”
“Shall we bring them?” asked Pyrella, fanning her blue feathers. She picked up the strange blue pants and heard the jingling of a chain attached.
“Leave them. We must attract the juvenile who is still not accounted for,” said Yetaxa. “Bag up the rest and we'll send it for display in our cultural museum.”
Popo tapped his comm. Link. “Yucca's unit has secured their spacecraft. It's in transit to the Sun complex so our High ones can determine its secrets.”
“Let's go then!” Yetaxa gestured. Four feathered serpent lizards pressed control studs on the bottom of the cage floor. Energy hummed and buzzed as it levitated up and they positioned it on the nearest gravtruck. There was no need for the usual tunnels when they could take it on the main throughput nearby.
“See how they define their roles so blatantly, Yetaxa?” hissed the male.
“Yes it is pathetic, Popocatepetl,” she answered, equally disgusted. Lips and tongues moved but there was no audible speech. Nods were exchanged, and then keys were pressed on wrist devices.
“Shall I report back to base, Yetaxa?”
“Do so. Mastrex Ixlachuatel and the council should be informed. Tell them their suspicions were true. We'll need all the precautions,” Yetaxa nodded.
“At your command Primer,” he answered, raising the frill of feathers around his head in salute. Then the first snaked down the tree, his torso undulating with only the softest rustle.
Leaving the second, Primer Yetaxa of Heliotrope Defense Squad, to continue her vigil. Her amber eyes blinked sideways, the slit pupil muscles opening their figure 8 wider in disgust. The sharp claws of her hands dug into the bark of the flora tree more tightly. She struggled to stop the swishing of her feathery tail. Though the rill of feathers framing her serpentine face did flare out like the other flowers. They had seen the bright blue burst of power around the lavender haired ape. Not to mention the evil set of his eyes. Could it be that the Monkey Prince had spawned?
Through the underbrush the male Quetzalcoatl crawled half on his rear legs, partly on his front to a hidden entrance. He popped beneath, his body flexile and yielding as a felines. Only the shake of his feathery tail heralded his egress. The city needed to be alerted, and the proper measures had to be taken.
***
“Woman, when's the food ready?” Trunks cupped his hands. A playful grin twitched the corners of his handsome lips up. The tense knot that had tied at the start of the entire trip was all but unwound now. Trunks dark hair had bleached to its former lavender glory while his pasty pale skin now gleamed golden tan as it had as a child. Every bit of him blistered with muscle, while his blue eyes twinkled with the feralness of his father Prince Vegeta. In every way he had regained his bearing and sense of mischief.
“Excuse me that woman crap might work with your dad and mom but not me!” Pan shot back. A small smile crept over her face as well, liking the verbal banter. He truly was the Capsule Prince, and a spoiled brat, but gone was the harried executive who wanted nothing more than to run from his job. Now he was much as she remembered him in her uncle's stories of old. Perhaps the trip had granted him a drink of much needed youth. While age had not taken its toll, a pampered life had. Now he was free of that mass of paperwork and restless fretting soft life. Able to explore and conquer worlds of knowelge while saving Earth from eminent demise.
“Well you hate being called a girl, and you're a woman to me. My woman,” Trunks said as he stalked.
When Pan straightened up from cooking she felt Trunks arm snare his waist. Walking backwards Trunks plopped himself down on a broad rock and planted Pan in his lap. She opened her mouth in protest, but stopped when she felt herself sitting astride strong thighs. “Trunks! What are you…?”
“Shh woman, c'mere,” he whispered in her ear. Pan's protests died in her throat when Trunks nibbled her neck and licked her earlobe.
“What about food, your highness,” she quipped, trying to get a rise out of him.
“Both at once,” Trunks murmured, nodding towards the food she had set aside on a broad rock.
“Uh huh, you've got two arms,” she bantered.
“Well woman, we can share this repast together,” he purred, feeling especially playful. Perhaps it was the good sex, or the start of something more. Pan wasn't going to turn it down because he was certainly far less irritating like this.
***
“It is a Royal spawn. He orders his mate around just as an Apeling prince would,” snorted Yetaxa in disgust. The very animalistic gleam in those blue eyes, with their shape and the angular features were burned forever in their brains. It was a lighter version of their hated destroyer, the one who had purged their homeworld and necessitated the flight to this second place of refuge.
Tales circulated the known solar systems of the Saiyan Prince Vegeta. How many worlds he had cleared and sold into the hand of the Tsurujin. Those that had survived had found new homes but only after many years of exploration and hiding.
Further tales reached them of the younger brother. Who was tamed and subdued by the native population. he was a rare exception, with no fight. The inhabitants of that world were funloving and peaceful, capable of charming anyone. They had well domesticated the younger Beast prince, but that was an anomaly.
Now the cancer had reached their second homeworld. They had seen the youngest apeling with its hated brown tail and voracious appetite emerge first. Then the older two, presumably older and having hid their tails no doubt were taking whatever they wanted. All inhabitants hid in the city shafts and plotted. It was greater than then anticipated. A golden opportunity to make the Saiyans answer for their outrage. Who better than the spawn of the Prince himself? If that was he, then they would known. Even if he wasn't, they would make fitting subjects for the High one's zoological garden. After all that is where savage killers as them belonged.
Another few keys on her wristband continued the recording of the activities. After the apelings ate they would be the most vulnerable. Yet was this female simply a slave, as so common in the disgusting harem customs of primates, or truly a mate?
***
A rasher of salty grilled meat was thrust past Trunks lips. Balanced across his lap, Pan cut off strips of the creature she had hunted earlier and fed them to him. The smooth surface of the boulder was one of the few comfortable places to sit, and Trunks wanted Pan to enjoy herself. He was certain she was a bit sore with all their recent couplings.
In turn Trunks grabbed slices of fruit he'd sliced before. Juice dripped between his fingers as he lifted them to pan's lips. She snaked out her tongue to lap them up and licked his fingertips in the process. It grew more and more difficult to ignore the feelings burning in their loins. Ever more frequently their need to mate seemed to grow. It was frightening to both.
Pan and Trunks slowly devoured their repast. While waiting for Goku to return the time had stretched out considerably longer and longer. More fruit juice dripped onto Pan's shirt and she momentarily pulled a face. Already she had washed the red T shirt, and was not anxious to repeat the process. Trunks bent over to lick the trail of juice on her cheek and she could not hold back the hunger. She swiveled around so that her bottom pressed hard into his crotch. Then she draped her thighs and straddled him so she faced him.
Blue electricity sparkled from his eyes to hers. He finished chewing the mouthful of meat, then leaned over to taste her lips. Pan twined arms around his neck, attacking his mouth with hers. Twisting lavender hair between her fingers she tugged on it. Fingers glided down her ribs while tugging up her shirt bottom on the upward pass. She seized his shirt and yanked it up out of his shorts almost ripping it.
“Trunks… I can't help it,” she gasped, grinding her hips on him. “I need…”
“I know, I'm here, Pan. Don't be afraid to yield to it” Trunks groaned, reaching at his belt to unfasten it.
“IT's just like… just like Papa described… when he was with…”
“Uh huh,” Trunks nodded, managing to get his shorts unfastened. Hastily she scooted back so he could rid himself of them. Clothes were rapidly peeled off in their haste to touch bare flesh, as urgent as the need to sate their need for food.
“Are we going… crazy?” she whispered. Trunks grabbed her by the back of her knees and dragged her forwards. He spun around so she was pressed on her back against the hard smooth stone. It was warm from the sun and soothing to the contact. Automatically Pan wrapped her legs around his hips while he lay her down and loomed over her.
Already she grasped his saiyanhood, rubbing and stimulating just how he liked. Trunks breath hissed through clenched teeth while he stroked and massaged her to the same point. To their mutual surprise they were already humming with the need to satiate, to rut. Vegeta's gruff words echoed in Trunks ears from years ago, preparing him for the bouts of insatiable times when Saiyans used sex to relieve stress.
Rutting was rutting, and sex was sex. One didn't need a mate to relieve rutting when they had not pair bonded. But this was a prime time for a Saiyan to try sex without the deeper bonds. Using one another to relieve needs was not unknown. Yet once the exchange and the bonding were done, then it was the duty of the male and female to rut or mate when their bodies desired it.
Videl had taught Pan much about pleasuring herself. In a similar fashion Bulma had taught Bra about various toys and games to satisfy a libido. Both had hoped such use of toys would be better than having sex with others. Goten and Trunks themselves dated many girls together over the years. Sex with humans scratched that itch well enough. Nevertheless the mid aged need to mate permanently and bond would assert itself and then it would be ripe for the completion. Over the years outsiders saw only the rutting phase of exploration before mating and assumed Saiyan were promiscuous. The Saiyan kept the true nature of their bonding a secret lest it be used as a weakness.
Because she was half human Bra had felt the urge more strongly. Pan was even more human and the crossing of the gen pools tripled her rutting urge. It wasn't a surprise when she sought out real male companions to experiment with. Videl had kept this a secret from Gohan when she discovered Pan was sneaking out at a young age to the various parties that she would be forbidden if her father ever knew.
Memory snatches echoed in Trunks brain lately. Pieces of Pan's recollections were tumbling into his, and likewise. Though they tried to keep their memories separate it was inevitable there would be spillover. Nature drove them during this confined time towards the inevitable end result. Trunks had waited far too long to claim a mate, and it was coming on him with a vengeance. He had fancied Pan as a possibility but never seriously pursued it till he saw her blossom. Then the fear of her father's reprisal had pushed his relationship to skirt the platonic.
Almost a year alone had opened those doors and broken down those walls. Trunks thought back to that time when Pan had discovered his furtive attempts to sate himself. He relied on his hand and on the many sex tapes he had brought to relief his need. Bulma's sex toys were only so good for so long, or they would break down from constant use. Keeping them from Pan was a big challenge. Till she walked in and it was all over.
She had pretended not to see anything and quickly ducked out. Then Trunks smelled her so close and guessed what she had done. Or the many times she lay in bed and he heart her soft grunts as she shifted with her hand between her legs. Pan knew how to pleasure herself just as much as he did. He always gave her ample time in the bathroom and it was a relief that she could keep it secret.
One night it grew too much for either to bear. Trunks sat in the pilot's seat, with one of his mother's many toys relieving himself. He had grown carless in his choice of venue, but figured that Pan was occupied elsewhere. He had invented clever ways of concealing his receptacles as cans of soup or other items that nobody would suspect were sex toys.
So when she freaked out seeing his saiyanhood placed in what she thought was a cup of ramen, her confusion was warranted. Frustrated and shocked that he was so exposed Trunks felt his own anger and sanity blurring.
Pan's own hunger and ki blast had surged her blood and awakened that other hunger and she smelled his scent in the air. Almost possessed he had seized her, forcing her lips to his and tackling her. Pan had protested at first, yet when he felt the hungry return of the kiss he felt no resistance. When he had unbuttoned her pants she hastily reached down to help him before grabbing at his shirt. This further evidence weighed in favor of continuing. Fingers thrust into her womanhood surprised him for he felt no barrier.
Frantic whispers for help were met with Pan's hands squeezing his. Her whispered apology of the ki blast to his face and the net kisses blurred together. Then his furtive stabs and thrusts up and her cries mingled into a red haze. She had turned with her back to him, almost guessing the primal nature of such a position. In his anxious need to stop himself he pulled out and spilled his essence all over her. Preventing impregnation and the inevitable last spill of his seed brought realization crashing cold in his face.
“Pan…” he gasped. “I… I'm sorry…”
“No, I wanted it. So badly, but… was that all?” Pan panted, licking her lips. “You're still… here… you're a mess… let me help…”
Before he could voice another word she had leaned down to take him in her mouth. The ease with which she proceeded further dashed Trunks notion of violating and raping. No, she was not protesting by pleasuring him in this manner instead of another hard fast screw.
“I didn't hurt you,” he whispered. “Sorry I was so rough.”
“I'm used to it,” she had replied, stunning Trunks even more. When Goku was gone he grasped her and pulled her onto his lap.
“This time it will be for you. Do you trust me?” were his next words. Her smile and nod was all the permission he needed. Instinct and the smell of her acceptance told him that she knew it was rutting. Somehow though he wanted her to know there could be more.
Throughout the first time they made love, his questions were answered. They retreated to the sanctity and security of Trunks bedroom for that part of their exploration. On a comfortable double bed they kissed and explored one another's bodies at a more leisurly pace. Whispers of her first time escaped and filled in the gaps of logic that gaped. While straddling him and sighing at the delicious way Trunks filled her she confessed.
“You're so much gentler than he was,” the quarter saiyan moaned.
“Good,” Trunks groaned, lifting her by her hips with measured strokes. “I wanted to make up for… how hard I was…”
“You're hard now… smartass,” she quipped.
“Gentler then who? You… I thought you'd be…”
“A virgin?” Pan answered.
Trunks released her hips, stopping his thrusts. “Well…”
“I'm not your first Trunks, so why should you be so surprised. Or is it that double standard thing?” Pan frowned.
“Yes, and no,” Trunks answered. “But I want you to feel good with me. Tell me what you want, how you want it.”
“I'm surprised you didn't turn me away,” Pan whispered.
“I couldn't Pan. I'm no idiot. I knew you wanted this too. You're old enough now. And we're alone here… but for…”
“Grandpa,” she mouthed. Feeling vulnerable she tensed. Trunks immediately wrapped his strong arms around her and tugged her onto his chest. Pan sighed with surprise and delight with the new display of affection.
“No matter what happens, this is you and me now,” Trunks answered. “No bullshit about age, parents, or people telling us now. What happens here stays between us. I promise.”
“Even when we get home and you forget about me?” Pan asked.
“Or you forget about me?” Trunks added, with a hint of petulance. His arms tightened protectively, startling Pan.
“You've got your girls. Just like my uncle. But hey, I can deal,” Pan answered bravely. However her dark eyes were far less guarded, showing hurt.
“Who says I want to forget you?” Trunks growled warningly. “Whose business is it but ours?”
Pan said nothing to this, rather choosing a kiss to express her delight. Whatever answer she had expected and steeled herself for its rejection, this was far more promising. Trunks drank in that kiss, savoring each breath and caress that accepted his unspoken offer. His fingers caressed her soft cheeks tenderly. Spread out on the silken sheets Trunks shared his warmth and newfound affection.
“I'm not him, Pan. And you're not a replacement for whatever her you're filling in the blank with in your mind. I don't play that game. This is serious, for real. A choice between a man and a woman, got it?” Trunks firmly informed her.
“A man and a woman,” Pan nodded fondly, raining kisses over his face. “But when you meet that right person… I won't stand in the way.”
“Nor will I, Pan,” answered Trunks. “Whoever he is I'll be damn jealous of him. When you meet him, you'll know.”
Then the subject was dropped and they returned to the business at hand. He had never pushed it to the last phase which Vegeta called the `sealing'. Where blood would forever link their chemistries and knit their thoughts as one mind. Suspicion told him he had once looked on Bra's neck for such a mark, but found none.
***
That incredible high of his woman's teeth piercing his neck and lapping and feasting on his blood was something that he long desired. A first sharp penetration as fierce and Saiyan as any other instinct. Momentary sharpness of the u shaped indentation of teeth awakening the burning surge of primal hormones.
“AHHH!” Trunks shouted, shivering with extreme delight mingled with the pain of Pan's teeth in his neck. All the memories slid and spiraled down a torrential drain clearing for the sensations of here and now.
“I'm sorry!” Pan yelped pulling back. She frantically wiped the blood trickling from her lips. Dark eyes were wide with horror and fear.
“No… don't be…' Trunks panted his heart racing. “Just don't spit it out. Swallow it… quickly!”
“I… oh shit… I didn't mean to I…” the quarter Saiyan babbled.
“What's done is done Pan,” he gasped, waves of bliss rocking him. “Just relax. There's one solution.”
Nibbling at her tanned skin he soon set his teeth to it. Pan yelped loudly to feel the sharpness rending her skin to the vessels beneath. Iron sweetness wove its metallic tang into her unique flavor, boiling down his throat. Pan returned her face to the wound she'd opened, lapping at his blood as he did hers. Simultaneously Trunks thrust up into her small body violently, while Pan rocked her hips down and squeezed from within. Royal blue ki sizzled and crackled, mingling with the burst of pure white erupting from around Pan's body.
Warm spurts injected deeply into her along with the onrush of feelings. Intense images washed over each with the tingle of ki. All their muscles contracted while their bodies quaked and clung to one another in its wake.
“Mmm… Trunks…” she coughed between slips of blood. A scab already formed over the tender skin, and she felt Trunks licking delicately at hers. Angular purple brows furrowed, only to relax with Trunks relief. Pan still trembled overcome with the enormity of the coupling. Fear soon followed with doubt of what would next transpire. He could see and feel the doubts so clearly it stunned him as well. An impression of her father's reprisal or her mother's demanding to know why.
“It's okay Pan. It's going to be fine,” Trunks shushed her.
“Will it? Obviously you know what I'm thinking now…” she wondered.
“Only if you let me,” Trunks answered, nipping at her nose. Pan curled up in the shelter of his arms to shiver there. She allowed herself to let go of her tough exterior and allow Trunks to comfort her since there were no barriers between them. Both weary, they dozed together on the rock allowing the sun to warm them for a time.
Wind lightly rustled the trees as the day wore on. Lightly trunks snored, holding Pan in his arms. He did not stir when serpentine shapes gathered and hid behind the trees ringing the shore. Still in voices far too high for a human ear to pick out, the Quetzalcoatl exchanged words.
“Now is the time. While they are asleep,” Yetaxa nodded.
“The cages are in place. And we can place the collars on them while they sleep,” Popocatepetl agreed. Three others held aloft their wrists, gleaming with small crossbows.
“Tranqs wont' work. They will burn it off. Quickly Pyrexia and Xocali… put them on!” Yetaxa waved frantically. Blue feathers fluttered around Pyrexia's neck beside the golden brown of Xocali. Two blurs zipped past and darted to the shade of the rock.
Trunks snorted and shifted, blinking before he settled down. Tensely the two slithered up and clipped a bangle around the neck of the female. She murmured softly. Then a split second later they collared the male. Instantly Trunks blue eyes snapped open and they bolted away to behind the trees. Claws poised on the trigger, their bodies pressing erect to flatten with the tree trunks.
“What the hell,” Trunks gasped, rolling off the rock and holding pan as he did so. Their feet touched the ground and he turned so his back faced the trees.
“I heard something too!” Pan panted. She grabbed her shirt quickly, and tugged it on while Trunks snatched his shorts and stepped into them. Within seconds they hastily dressed.
“Who's there? I know I heard you! Don't hide from me!” Trunks shouted to the empty woods. Only a faint rustling and cacophony of sounds met him.
“What's that on your neck… and mine?” Pan exclaimed, grabbing the collar. She tripped as she shimmied into Trunks boxer shorts.
“What the fuck…” Trunks stammered, grabbing at the cold circle of metal. It pricked his skin and tingled like a mosquito bite.
“Trunks… in the trees!” pan pointed to sudden movement. She raised her hands, aiming them.
“Come out! I see you there!” Trunks bellowed. He backed up to stand back to back with Pan, his fingers crackling with blue ki.
“NOW!” Yetaxa whistled. Darts clicked into position, then twanged from six strings.
Pan and Trunks dodged out of the way, only to stumble. Something seemed very wrong. The blast he aimed at the source of the tiny rods fizzled out into nothingness. Horror filled his face. Pan felt the tip of something bite into her arm. She snatched it out and rolled to her feet.
“Trunks!” Pan yelled. “Behind you!”
She rushed over to help him up and he staggered against her. Wildly he glanced around, seeing the bright blurs of blue and gold circling them. More small rods pelted them and he clung to Pan to protect her. “I can't use my ki!” he shouted.
“Me neither! Trunks!” Pan despaired. She tugged at the small darts that seemed to be feeble weapons. Yet she noticed that they were hollow inside sloshing with fluid.
“Can't stand up… dammit…” Trunks moaned. “Pan, get out of here!”
“I'm not leaving you, stupid!” Pan cursed. Her fists flew out towards the blurring enemy that darted with a variation of the afterimage. Each punch connected with only empty space. Trunks staggered like a drunken man, wildly swinging and kicking. Unfortunately his legs wobbled and he crashed to the ground. Pan raced over to protect him, but couldn't fight the wooziness blurring her vision.
Her last vision was filled by the scaly faces of strangers. Such visages were framed with manes of rainbow ruffs of feathers. Varying from disgust to fascination they trilled in high pitched squeaks that made little sense. Almost like birds chirping. Hands poked and prodded them, while a gleaming network of bars dropped over them both. All Pan could do was drape herself over Trunks while blackness overrode the cacophony of light and sound.
“Get the cage. Good. Now we can build it around them,” Yetaxa ordered. “Xocali, Pyrexia, roll them onto the platform here. Popo… how long with the tranq's last?”
Glancing up towards the twin suns, Popocatepetl answered, “For ten slices. The metabolism of them fighting us will increase the ingestion rate. And we have samples we can genotype when we get back to the city.”
“Primer Yetaxa, it is good we witted for the Saiyan to clothe themselves,” Xocali agreed.
“Yes. We don't want these hideous hairy beasts to show their indecent parts to us. Though I'm sure Chichaniza will find it sport to find them garments mort suiting their animal status then these garments,” Yetaxa snorted. “Saiyan don't deserve such fine garments.”
“Shall we bring them?” asked Pyrella, fanning her blue feathers. She picked up the strange blue pants and heard the jingling of a chain attached.
“Leave them. We must attract the juvenile who is still not accounted for,” said Yetaxa. “Bag up the rest and we'll send it for display in our cultural museum.”
Popo tapped his comm. Link. “Yucca's unit has secured their spacecraft. It's in transit to the Sun complex so our High ones can determine its secrets.”
“Let's go then!” Yetaxa gestured. Four feathered serpent lizards pressed control studs on the bottom of the cage floor. Energy hummed and buzzed as it levitated up and they positioned it on the nearest gravtruck. There was no need for the usual tunnels when they could take it on the main throughput nearby.