Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Vengeance of a Prince ❯ Chapter 14 ( Chapter 14 )

Vengeance Of A Prince

(© Jady Arewar and Shi-Saiyan)

Rating: NC17

Warnings: Too many to list! Character death, incest, sex, Yaoi, Yuri, mockery of Saiyajin mating rituals, violence, lots of blood, hentai, insanity, etc.

Summary: Vejita's world falls apart when Trunks is accidentally killed.

Pairings: Gokou/Vejita, Vejita/Trunks, Gohan/Piccolo, Gohan/Bulma, Pan/Vejita, Pan/Bura, Vejita/Goten, Gohan/Pan, Gokou/Pan… and I'm sure I'm forgetting a bunch.

Chapter 14: (Dual Chapter continued…)

Gentle hands, hands of a lover, more gentle that Vejita had ever been - the thought flashed only briefly in her mind as wide eyes watched Gohan pull back, licking away flesh, spiting aside bitten off skin. Hazy eyes turned to her as those soft hands ran down her sides, kneading her flesh, arousing her and driving her mad. There was no rage inside her anymore. What good did it do? Surely, Vejita would come to her rescue, save her from… this… thing that wore Gohan's face.

Gohan knew, however, that Vejita was far too busy to worry about the body his heirs had come from. He could sense the heated tension so close by. He could almost taste the blood that poured from his father's wounds. He tilted his head slightly, almost reading her thoughts. "What is it Bulma? Hoping your savior will come for you? No one cares about you. You're just Chikyuu's whore. Your purpose in life is to satisfy us."

Gentle hands were no longer gentle. He gripped her waist, nails threatening to break soft yet old skin. His brow narrowed, teeth gritting. "Tell me, Mrs. Briefs… who haven't you fucked around here? Yamcha, Vejita… my father, maybe? What about the others? Huh! Bitch, I can't hear you!" Bulma's neck cracked as she was slapped. Tears ran down her cheeks as she stared at the wall. Before she could turn back to look, those hands gripped her hips, turning her over. Bulma yelped through her gag as her arms were twisted around themselves painfully, but as hands dug into her plump ass and lifted her onto her knees, Bulma bit down on the sock shoved in her mouth and waited for the pain.

"Shh…" Gohan hissed, leaning over her back, lips brushing against her ear. "This can feel good, Bulma, if you let it." Fingers protruded in her anus, stretching the tiny virgin whole. Did people really think of her as a whore? "Tell me, Bulma," Gohan continued, voice gruff. His lips ran down her skin, lapping at her shoulders, nose nuzzling her hair. "Tell me about all the men you fucked." The fingers struck something inside her. Bulma winced and stifled a moan. Gohan's free hand circled around her waist, softly teasing her clit. "So wet," the demi-Saiyajin groaned. "Little whore. Bulma! Tell me. Did you ride my Piccolo? Did Tien get a piece of this ass?" A hand struck her rear. She whimpered, burying her face in the pillow in shame.

"NO!" Gohan suddenly screamed. A hand wrapped around Bulma's waist, pulling her back against him. The fingers left her caverns, replaced suddenly by hardness that ripped her apart and made her scream. The walls would have shook had she not been gagged.

"Mmm… scream for me, yeah," Gohan whispered, wrapping his arms around her as he shoved himself deep into her tightness. One hand caressed her right breast as another brushed back her hair, leaving her luscious neck exposed. He could feel the peaceful pain in his father's mind, and he could sense the echoing thoughts. Another claim bite, this one between the Saiyajin no Ouji and the low-class Kakarrotto. Would the world ever regain any sanity?

His lips brushed against the skin. Gohan pulled himself back, ignoring the woman's sobs and the blood that ran down their thighs, staining the sheets beneath him. The scent caused his heart to race. His pace increased, earning more painful shrieks from the female in his arms. Blood… he needed to taste it. He needed to drink it. He wanted to hear her screams. He yanked off the gag and grabbed her mouth with his hand, preventing her shrills from reaching the outside world. He yanked back her neck and dug his fangs into her skin, relishing the liquid that flowed from her.

"Gohan! Are you mad?" came a sharp voice from behind him. Gohan released Bulma and turned, blood dripping down his chin. Piccolo stood in the doorway, a small brown pouch hanging from his belt, eyes narrowed and enraged. Gohan licked his lips and smirked, but before he could speak the Namek's eyes widened. Gohan turned, but it was too late.

Bulma had scrambled to her knees, somehow freeing herself from her bonds, and her teeth were in his neck. Gohan snarled and grabbed the back of her head, ripping her away and climbing to his feet shakily. Piccolo stepped back, growl burning in his throat, eyes narrow. "Gohan…."

"It's… it's just a slave bite," Gohan said, wiping the blood from his neck with a smirk on his lips. "A slave bite is one sided, woman. It can't be returned."

Bulma's eyes widened as she watched Gohan turn to Piccolo. The two kissed gently, hands roaming and groping. Piccolo's long slender fingers entrapped Gohan's length, causing the demi-Saiyajin to shudder against the touch. Bulma sobbed softly and scrambled up from the bed, rushing towards the door, but before she had even taken a few steps Gohan was standing in front of her, and his hand was around her throat. "You're mine, pet," he growled.

Panicked eyes looked to an angered Piccolo. The Namek stared back from against the wall, eyes wishing the woman's death. Bulma could hear the thought in her head, one repeating word… die.

Piccolo wanted her dead.

~*~

Gokou was groaning, the bloodstain on the mattress growing underneath him as every minute passed, but even as the blood still continued to flow, he felt his body healing and the pain of his wounds was quickly drowned out by the intensity of Vejita's every erotic move. The man was a walking orgasm, his hands and mouth spreading liquid sex everywhere they touched. His teeth were sharp and unforgiving and his tongue was thorough and lavished attention on every inch of Gokou's flesh. He was a devil, he was an angel, he was a demon and he was a god. He was Vejita: Saiyajin no Ouji, and now, Gokou belonged to him.

~*~

In the bedroom of Bura: the Saiyajin princess, Son Pan stirred. Her dark eyes still closed, her mind locked in a dreamscape for the time being, the Saiyajin blood inside her began to heat and rise to the surface once again. She whimpered in her sleep, though not in pain or fear, as her dreams took a turn for the erotic. Every nerve was on fire, every touch of her dream-lover's hands, pure agony, pure ecstasy. Saiyajin instincts were strong, especially right after and during puberty. Pan had been claimed by a Saiyajin male, a Saiyajin prince, and her body said that now it was time to create offspring, an heir to the royal house. Sleeping, entangled in the limbs of her lover and friend, Pan went into heat.

~*~

"Why don't you speak, Kakarrotto?" Vejita mused with a smile, watching the blood run. The ki bonds had been removed, and Son Gokou lay stretched out on the bed in silence, whimpering occasionally, arousal pressed into the sheets. It took every ounce of willpower on Vejita's side not to grab the awaiting hips and pound himself into him mercilessly.

It was so hot.

The afternoon sun was high. Vejita was sweating despite the faint air-conditioning blowing down from the ceiling. Gokou, on the other hand, seemed to be freezing. He shivered after few seconds. His arms were buried beneath the pillow his head rested on… the very same pillow he muffled his sounds in.

Vejita couldn't take it anymore. He reached down, hands wrapping almost gently around the hips, drawing the Saiyajin to prop up his end, knees bent behind him. Gokou became silent suddenly with the anticipation. Vejita ran his thumb along the opening, watching as, yet again, the Saiyajin shivered at the touch. "Why don't you beg, Kakarrotto?" he whispered.

Gokou moved backwards suddenly, swallowing Vejita's fingers. Vejita scowled, his free hand gripping the hips. Gokou had no right to move without his permission! "Scream for me, Kakarrotto," he growled, ripping his hand out. He guided his hips, positioning himself. Kakarrotto climbed up on his elbows, a faint purr in appreciation of what was promised to come. Vejita raised a brow at the sound, hands tightening around the skin, but a smirk crossed his features. Oh… he'd make sure Gokou screamed for him.

~*~

Gohan shoved the senzu bean down Bulma's throat and she swallowed, reflexively. Had she been conscious, she would have let herself choke on it, not wanting to be healed, to suffer more of the torture that Gohan had in store for her. Gohan watched with shining black eyes as the damage he'd inflicted on the fragile ningen body healed, the flesh knitting back together underneath the blood and cum that coated the pale skin. Piccolo had stood, silent, and watched as he raped, beat and mutilated Bulma, tasting her blood, tasting her flesh, smelling her desire and her fear. The slave bite had taken hold of her not long after he'd made it and despite the pain, the pure, undiluted terror and the brutality of her master, she'd wanted him, wanted everything he was giving her and, had he stopped, she would have begged him for more. Gohan hadn't stopped though. He'd taken her in every possible way and some that weren't possible, at least not if one wanted their partner to live. There'd be plenty of time to make her beg later.

Piccolo approached the bed behind Gohan, silently, but his mate was waiting when the strong green hands came around his torso and slid down the ridged muscles of his stomach, to fondle his already hardening length. Gohan purred and leaned his head back on his lover's shoulder. He could feel Piccolo's arousal pressing against his spine through the Namek's silken robes and he rubbed against the hardness, teasingly. Piccolo stifled a groan and growled instead, his teeth nipping at Gohan's ear. "She'll wake soon," Piccolo said. "Yes and it'll be time for round two," Gohan agreed. "It's my turn," his mate said, scraping fangs down the ivory flesh of his neck. Gohan shuddered. "You want to fuck her?"

"I want to kill her." The sound of Piccolo's deep, silken voice saying those words flowed over Gohan like warm honey and he moaned, arching against the strength and hardness at his back as Piccolo continued to stroke him.

"Fine. You can have her. Just fuck me, right now," he demanded, the delicious ache in his loins becoming too much to bear with the skilled fingers of the Namek driving him deeper and deeper into arousal. "With pleasure," Piccolo growled.

His hands left Gohan's cock and one of them gripped the back of his neck, firmly pushing his head down, almost onto Bulma's breasts. They were both straddling her now and she was starting to regain consciousness, but Gohan didn't notice. Piccolo ripped away what remained of his clothing and thrust into him. The Saiyajin cried out as the thick hardness entered him, filled him. The mixture of blood and cum on Bulma's stomach was slick on Gohan's cock as Piccolo drove into him over and over, the incredible strength of his mate pressing him against the woman.

Bulma's eyes snapped open and she screamed. It was the wrong thing to do when one was mere inches from a Saiyajin in the middle of sex. Gohan's teeth tore out her jugular and blood flowed freely. The sharp, metallic scent pushed both Piccolo and Gohan over the edge at the same moment and harsh, guttural cries escaped both of them as Piccolo released himself into Gohan's heat and Gohan spilled onto Bulma yet again. They collapsed for a moment and Gohan distantly noted that Bulma's hands were on her throat, trying to hold her blood in. Calmly, he reached into the small bag that sat on the nightstand, fished out a senzu bean and shoved it into her mouth. Once again, her instincts betrayed her and she swallowed the bean. Almost immediately, the wound on her neck began to heal, the flow of blood to slow and stop. Piccolo slowly levered his weight off of his mate, rolling to the side and standing. Stretching on top of the nearly healed woman, Gohan stretched his limbs like a cat and sent a sexy, sideways glance toward Piccolo. "I believe you said you wanted the honor?"

~*~

He collapsed, almost lifeless, atop the younger Saiyajin, gasping and panting for breath. Every nerve ending was on fire. His vision was fuzzy. Sleep was so close he could almost taste it, and he wanted it so badly. Vejita didn't bother to think that the body he was planning to slumber atop of was that of his worst enemy, the father of a murderer. The sticky mess between them and on the sheets around them - consisting not only of unmentionable bodily fluids, but also blood and sweat - went ignored. Gokou was so warm beneath him, so firm. Strong arms wrapped around his body and Vejita could not deny silently that he felt comfortable… and safe. So many years had passed since the last time he'd felt like that - an infant, wrapped in his proud father's embrace, a frightened young boy, fingers twirling through Raditzu's long raven hair.

"Vejita?"

Gokou's sudden, unexpected yet not unwelcome submissiveness and silence seemed to have vanished. Vejita was not pleased by this, but his exhaustion kept him from scowling and speaking. He merely ignored the voice, head against the Saiyajin's muscular torso, having every intention of going to sleep and not waking up for a few months… or until dinner, whichever came first.

"Vejita?" Gokou was quite persistent, not a good thing to be around a cranky Saiyajin prince. Vejita unwillingly lifted his head slightly, brows narrowing as Gokou's image filled his vision. "Be silent, Kakarrotto," he growled out impatiently.

Soft hands stroked his back. Vejita's eyes slid closed with a faint kitten-like purr. He returned to his resting place, hands circling around Gokou's body as if he was a long pillow. Unfortunately, Gokou was quite a moron and didn't know when to quit while he was ahead. "I just… I wanted to say…" he paused at the feral growl from Vejita. Annoyed, Vejita ripped himself up from the warm embrace he had just seconds ago longed to never leave. The Saiyajin glared down at his rival. "Say your piece and leave me be, Kakarrotto!" he exclaimed.

Gokou swallowed nervously and sat up, reaching to wrap his arms around the lithe princely body. Vejita slapped the hands away with a scowl. "Vejita, I'm sorry, it's just I wanted to say that I… I don't regret what… what we just did." There was a blush burning on Gokou's face as the words left his mouth. Vejita snorted and rolled his eyes, a sadistic smirk rising on his lips. "It was a fuck, Kakarrotto." He didn't pause as Gokou's wide fearful eyes landed on him in disbelief. "I must say, I never knew you loved pain so much. Even Furiza had his limits, but not you."

Rage crossed the younger Saiyajin's face at being compared to Furiza. Ah… was that how to get him riled up? Comparing him to the very people he so loathed. Vejita turned, sitting on the edge of the bed, pretending to be completely oblivious to the Saiyajin's emotions. "Furiza did love the taste of blood, I must say, especially mine and his own. Oh… that fucker loved pain. Inflicting and receiving, and… he could last for… for hours." Vejita's voice cracked against his will. He forced himself to lose the images that threatened to surface in his mind. Vejita rose to his feet hastily, regretting the words he'd just spoken. He could feel Gokou's sympathy. The Saiyajin wanted to… comfort him now.

As expected, Gokou rose from the bed, wrapping his arms around Vejita's waist before the Saiyajin could retrieve his clothing. The warm chest pressed against his back, Gokou's growing arousal against Vejita's rear, taunting him, begging him. Vejita's eyes slid closed as he unconsciously leaned back. He wanted to… gods, how he wanted to.

"Get off of me, damn it!" he snarled, ripping himself away and spinning to scowl at the warrior. "You little fucking bastard! You don't get it, do you? You're a fuck! You're worthless and you always will be! A moronic, low class Saiyajin warrior who wouldn't have been fit to be my pleasure slave on Vejita-sei! Screw your new powerful race! Screw your pride! It's all a mockery of MY people! Whether they be dead or alive, you insult them! You're a fuck, Kakarrotto." He took a deep breath, allowing his heartbeat to slow before he burst a vein. His brow twitched as he stared into hurt ebony eyes, but he held firm, forcing himself to grin. "You are my conquered… and now you're nothing."

Vejita spun around and left the bedroom, grabbing his training shorts from the floor as he walked out.

~*~

That look left shivers in Piccolo's spine. He smirked as he stared into suggestive black eyes. He couldn't stand it. He couldn't stand sharing Gohan with this woman for one more second. He wanted the young demi-Saiyajin.

Piccolo looked down at Bulma, seeing her eyes watching him with horror. Sunlight played across her grimy body. All the scars Gohan had created were healed and she was back to her perfect self - whatever that was by ningen standards. She still looked butt-ugly as far as Piccolo was concerned. His gaze drifted back to Gohan, who had resided to leaning against the wall, ankles crossed, arms folded across his chest, arousal proud and saluting. The mere sight of his mate - shared or otherwise - made Piccolo ache for attention.

Without pause he leaned down, grabbing Bulma's throat and ripping it out with one swift tug of his nails in her throat. Gohan scowled from the wall and pouted. "Well… that was boring," he frowned. Piccolo tossed aside the meaty goodness and walked over to Gohan, eyes narrowed. Blood dripped from his fingertips, staining the carpet. He didn't care that Gohan hadn't gotten his precious show.

Piccolo winced suddenly, stumbling back. Gohan's brows narrowed as he watched the graceful Namek stumble. He reached out, grabbing his old mentor's arm and holding him still. "It's the bond," he muttered absently, guiding the Namek to the bed and sitting beside him with a faint chuckle. Piccolo gritted his teeth, pressing a hand against his temple as his head throbbed. "Don't worry, Piccolo, it'll all be okay, but right now," Gohan rose to his feet. "I think Vejita would…"

"No!" Piccolo exclaimed, grabbing Gohan and yanking him back to the bed. Fortunately, Vejita had been too occupied to sense Gohan and Piccolo yet, and thankfully since afterwards they had been able to keep their ki hidden. The two of them needed to get out of Capsule Corps before the Saiyajin no Ouji became aware of their trespassing. "I won't let you face Vejita," he snarled. Gohan raised an irked brow at the Namek. "Can you stop me, Piccolo?"

Piccolo shook off the ache in his mind and grabbed Gohan's shoulder, shoving the demi-Saiyajin down on the bed, beside of Bulma's corpse. His bloody hand enwrapped the semi-hardness and stroked the length gently, coating it in blood. "I think I can," Piccolo grinned, leaning down, kissing the head.

Gohan purred, back arching with a grin. His head rolled to the side with a pleasured whimper and he smiled at Bulma's lifeless, staring eyes. Gohan leaned forward and licked away droplets of blood splattered on her cooling cheek.

Mmm… the smell of death, blood, and sex….

~*~

TBC