Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Mmm... Kinky! ❯ Need ( Chapter 17 )

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

Powerless hands fisted soft cotton sheets. Warm wet lips bruised from previous kisses pressed together. Tongues curiously invaded mouths. Names were whispered as if prayers. Moist skin melted together. Icy moonlight cooled heated skin. Hearts throbbed as two clung together desperately. Senses were fuzzy, will power minimum.

It wasn’t real, and never would be.

Music played from speakers on the wall. Candle flames burned in various places, adding to the heat. Fingers touched and caressed skin, subtly nudging body parts. A head was tossed back in ecstasy, short lavender hair falling over the bed’s edge.

Only death and destruction made love to Trunks.

There was no pain, no sorrow. Without aids, the muscular demi-Saiyajin entered him. Heated passionate claiming kisses were exchanged. A warm tongue ran down Trunks’ abdomen, taunting him. Black hair was fisted in exchange for the bed sheets. There was nothing wrong in this world. Vejita was still alive, and lying with the boy’s mother in their marital bed.

Vejita and Bulma had never gotten married.

He cried out and moaned, pleading for more. Gohan gave him more. Warm touches sent him to bliss as an amused expression was offered. Words were suddenly halted. Neither would speak anymore.

Gohan was dead.

Tears stained Trunks’ eyes as his dream world slowly began to fade away. He had woken from his dream. It was still dark outside. Gohan really was dead, wasn’t he? Never once has they been able to touch, to kiss, to laugh. There wasn’t room in reality for it. He sat up in his tiny little bed in Capsule Corporations and gazed around, searching for some symbol that Gohan wasn’t dead and it had been just one horrible nightmare.

A picture of he, Gohan, and Bulma lay on the floor across the room, the glass shattered.

Everything was so wrong. How could the world become so wrong? He turned and stretched out on the sheets, burying his head in the pillows, curling his legs to his chest. The dream caused an ache between his legs, but one that belonged only to Gohan. Tears fell from his eyes, wetting his cheeks, staining the sheets. He tugged the covers up around his shoulders and forced his eyes closed, determined to return to that dreamy paradise that only existed in his dreams.

~*~

Juunanago did have morals… just not many of them. He’d kill a child, but he’d never steal candy from them, unless they were already dead. It was just some things that he would and wouldn’t do. There was no laws or programming in his mind to make him decide what was the difference between right and wrong. That was only determined by his mood.

Breaking into Capsule Corporations was not considered a wrong. It was considered self-defense. After all, Trunks and his cohorts had been determined to kill him and his sister for years. After searching for what seemed like forever, peaking in every door and finding nearly nothing, he came to a cracked doorway upstairs and paused as he heard faint moans and heavy breathing. Realizing just who lay within, Juunanago entered, locking the door behind him.

Towards the bed he moved, pausing. Black soulless eyes gazed across the small supple body that seemed so distraught in the clutches of a nightmare. The name Gohan left dry lips. The dead senshi, Juunanago realized with a scowl. The boy was dreaming of that dead piece of meat.

Trunks turned onto his back. Lavender-hair was moist against his brow. Fingers clung to the bed sheet that barely covered his legs. A loose pair of green boxers attempted to hide an obvious erection.

Why not?

Juunanago smirked at the mischievous thought and yanked his shirt over his head. The cloth fluttered to the floor, followed soon by the clink of a belt, boots, a scarf, and finally pants. It had been months since the cyborg had last been laid, and sexual frustration had been building during all that time in the endless battles… and Trunks seemed in need of some soft… or rather hard touches.

Kneeling on the bed, he crawled over to straddle Trunks’ hips without yet touching him. The mattress barely shifted beneath his weight. A crafty smirk played across his pale lips, wondering just how to go about it all. If Trunks woke, there was little telling who would be stronger. He had watched the boy’s rise in power after the discovery of Gohan’s corpse from afar, enjoying the suffering and yet slightly nervous by the transformation. Trunks could awake and the fun would abruptly end as a battle. Tying Trunks up would do little but postpone the battle for a few moments. No… he had to somehow convince Trunks not to resist… at least for a short while, until he knew he had complete control.

He touched Trunks’ forehead, testing the demi-Saiyajin. Trunks – to Juunanago’s amusement – moaned Gohan’s name again and leaned against the touch, obviously want more. Brushing away damp locks of hair, Juunanago leaned down and softly kissed warm lips. In response, Trunks’ lips parted, permitting Juunanago entrance if he desired it. The cyborg grinned, accepting and exploring eagerly. The idea of ravaging Trunks in his slumber was much more than erotic.

Hands running down the curves of the demi-Saiyajin’s chest, his fingers discovered the edge of the boy’s boxers. Grasping the elastic edge, he slid them down and smirked at the jutting arousal that greeted him. He slid off the boy, drawing the shorts off and tossing them aside. Settling beside the preteen, Juunanago softly stroked Trunks’ need.

Tears fell from Trunks’ eyes as he sobbed the dead man’s name once again. The cyborg scowled. Would Trunks be crying that name the entire night? His hand tightened around Trunks’ shaft and he stroked harder, as if punishing the slumbering preteen. Trunks whimpered, hips thrusting upwards into the fist, hands clawing at the sides. Amusement slowly returned to the cyborg. Perhaps he could use it to his advantage. What was wrong with a little role-playing, anyway?

Sleek like a curious cat, he crawled back over Trunks, drawing the boy’s thighs apart and settling himself between. He leaned up, kissing the boy’s lips softly, before following the jaw line to his ear. “Trunks, I’m going to fuck you,” he whispered softly, licking the lobe. Trunks muttered something softly, turning his head aside to give Juunanago more access. The cyborg chuckled softly, lips and teeth grazing the exposed area. His hand snuck down and gently resumed the soft strokes of Trunks’ arousal.

A few moments of the tedious play passed before Juunanago grew bored. Each time he touched Trunks, the lavender-haired boy muttered Gohan’s name. He was writhing against Juunanago, wanting more and needing more, so close to reaching completion. Juunanago drew back and grabbed the boy’s hips, a sadistic grin playing across his face, knowing the pain that would follow just one swift shove of his hips.

He positioned himself, nails digging into skin, and shoved forward.

Trunks cried out, awakening from his pleasant slumber as it was engulfed in a nightmarish hell he had never imagined. Pain overwhelmed his body and he screamed, only to have a cruel hand clasped over his mouth. He struggled, but another hand collected his wrists and shoved them above his head, held there tightly with bruising force. Teary blue eyes searched for the demon responsible for his agony, finding the cyborg above him, thrusting, lids slit. He sobbed in pain, tossing his head to the side, trying desperately to collect his ki, but the pain made his senses fuzzy and his control was at zero. He tried to shove away, rip his wrists free, but he was powerless.

“Your… your lover can’t save you now,” Juunanago grunted, head falling back as he felt ecstasy closing in. Trunks was so young, a virgin in the ways of men, and tight. His skin was like lava compared to the cold mechanical temperature his body possessed. The cyborg unleashed a long moan as he came into the contracting inner muscles of Trunks’ walls. He fell limp atop the demi-Saiyajin for a brief moment, trapping grip lessening briefly.

Briefly was all Trunks needed to get away.

In an explosion of ki, Juunanago was sent flying across the room. He struck a wall with a sickening thud and slid to the ground, lying limp for a moment as he shook off the sudden pain in his spine. Trunks jumped to his feet, tears falling from his eyes. Frantically he searched for some form of clothing and grabbed the first thing he saw, yanking them on.

A chuckle he earned from Juunanago. “Those are my jeans, babe,” the cyborg muttered, climbing to his feet shakily. Trunks looked down to the pants and threw them aside with a disgusted cry. He rushed to his closet and grabbed a pair of sweatpants, yanking them on. Juunanago, in the meantime, had regained his composure, guarded for a fight, but also quite aware that the demi-Saiyajin was still hard. He smirked as the boy stepped forwards, entire body quaking with confusion and pain.

“Do you really think as a Super Saiyajin you can defeat me?” Juunanago laughed. “If your forget, boy, your sensei is dead. He was more powerful than you could ever imagine being. Come on and give up.” A devious smirk played across the soft lips of the cyborg as he brushed his hands through his black locks of hair. “Perhaps I can convince sis to let you come play with us for awhile. You’re a good lay. I’m sure you could satisfy her for awhile.”

Trunks lunged, his golden hair pulsing with energy. Juunanago was ready and countered easily, slamming the boy into the wall with little effort. The wall cracked as a result of the abuse, but Trunks was quick to recover. He spun around, swinging at Juunanago, but the cyborg was already across the room, sitting on the edge of the bed, legs spread, awakened arousal obvious. Trunks paused when he saw this, blue eyes widening in fear. Juunanago merely grinned. The boy was verging on insanity. Who could blame him? The only person he had left in the world was his mother, an old and frail woman who could die at any moment due to any cause – illness, stress, or especially the cyborgs.

Juunanago grinned, leaning forward on his elbows. “Do you want your mother to live, Trunks?”

That fear grew.

“Come here then,” Juunanago demanded, sitting back. Trunks didn’t move. “You couldn’t stop me from killing your master. You think you can stop me from killing your mother?”

A faint sob was unleashed. Trunks took a cautious step towards the evil abomination and Juunanago reached out, grabbing his sweatpants and yanking the preteen to his knees at the end of the bed. Hands gripping the back of Trunks’ head, he watched with excitement as teary blue eyes locked onto his arousal. He chuckled softly, fingers twisting in soft silky strands of hair. “It doesn’t have to hurt, what I did to you. I can make it feel good.” He tugged Trunks’ head closer to his trembling member. “Suck me, Trunks.” His voice was breathless as he saw the acceptance in Trunks’ eyes. “Suck me and I’ll make sure it feels good.”

Warm lips encased his arousal, tightening unsurely. Teeth scraped the skin, but Juunanago could handle a little pain. He groaned out as he felt the back of Trunks’ throat connect with the head of his arousal. He moaned and bucked in the mouth, causing the demi-Saiyajin to gag and yank back abruptly. The cyborg grinned and fell down across the mattress, hand yanking the boy up and over him, his cock wet with Trunks’ saliva, the entrance already moist with blood. Juunanago reached down and gripped the boy’s knees, yanking him forth. “No,” Trunks exclaimed, moving to scramble away. Juunanago grabbed him and pulled him back, enjoying the little game of cat and mouse. The boy was still aroused, and his curious eyes betrayed him.

“Come here and ride me, damn you,” he snarled, grabbing Trunks’ hips and positioning him over his entrance. Trunks’ eyes widening at the crude terminology, but Juunanago rolled his eyes and leaned up, shoving Trunks down with brute force. None could say he hadn’t tried. Trunks yelped again at the pain, though it was less than before.

Juunanago gazed up in amusement, his hands pulling behind him to pillow his head. In amusement, he gazed up to the young boy. Faint muscles were obvious, enhanced by the shadows the moonlight caused, currently damp with nervous sweat. Trunks was anything but unattractive, and according to the whelp Juuhachigo had killed he was more than likely royalty of some sort or another.

As the pain eased and the muscles unclenched slightly, Trunks gazed down to the cyborg. His cheeks were flushed from sobs and moist with tears. Juunanago frowned and shoved his hips upwards slightly, hinting at the next movement. Trunks was far from idiotic, and the slight movement caused him to lift his hips just slightly before sliding down again. His eyes shut and he whimpered as his opening was stretched.

Juunanago shook his head with a muttered curse and insult. “Harder,” he snapped, reaching out and grabbing the boy’s hip with one hand while his second hand grabbed the erection. A swift fondle of the demi-Saiyajin’s balls caused Trunks eyes to widen widely and he did as commanded, rising up higher and falling down harder. Juunanago felt his erection strike the prostate, and the gasp of breath from Trunks informed him the target had indeed been hit. “Again,” he demanded, eyes sliding shut as he began stroking Trunks’ erection, fingers fondling the tip for moments longer than necessary. Trunks moaned out against his will.

Knowing the boy would be mentally broken for this for years to come hardly bothered the cyborg as black eyes gazed longingly at the preteen. With the right tutors, Trunks could become quite a skilled lover. Juunanago moaned out, an arm tossing over his eyes as spots flooded his vision. Trunks was hardly silent in the pleasure he was feeling as he moaned and growled, praying to Gohan and Kami for death and release. With the attention to his arousal and the constant thumps to his sweet spot, as well as inexperience and little stamina, Trunks reached climax abruptly, crying out and falling limply atop Juunanago with a quiet sob. Heat grew tighter as the inner chamber convulsed around the cyborg’s need, and Juunanago unleashed his seed into the taut body once again.

Aftershocks wore off after a few moments. Juunanago heard the boy’s panting and he grinned, turning head to the side, loving the feel of hot air on his skin. Trunks remained motionless, still engulfed in the waves of pleasure to be concerned with who or what had caused them.

It didn’t last forever. Only seconds later did reality return and Trunks ripped himself away, scrambling to a corner of the room and collapsing there, knees drawn to his chest, brows narrowed to control tears that were returning. Juunanago snarled in disgust and rose to his feet, dressing himself slowly, enjoying the mockery he caused by taunting Trunks.

After he was dressed, tying the red scarf around his neck, only then did he turn to Trunks again, looking the boy over. He stared for a long moment and realized that there was just something about the kid that he liked. “You know those apartment buildings where Gohan was murdered?” he asked with a raised brow.

Trunks remained silent, but Juunanago knew he knew.

“If you want to see me again… say… next week, maybe, then meet me there.” He chuckled at the revolted look he received, but shrugged. It was up to Trunks whether he wanted to come or not. Juunanago did hope - just a small bit - that Trunks would show up next week.

What was today? Tuesday?


THEND