Mind Rape

BY : Pickles
Category: Dragon Ball Z > Yaoi - Male/Male
Dragon prints: 21926
Disclaimer: I do not claim to own or intend to profit from any of the themes or characters taken from the Dragonball Z franchise and used in this story.

I'd like to share some awesome Mind Rape fan art by reader and friend, Ulrike: 


You can check out more of Ulrike's art at http://www.y-gallery.net/user/ulrike/  

Thanks Ulrike!


Mind Rape


Vegeta landed in a grove of thorns. When he opened his eyes moments later, he could see a large spot of light from where he'd been thrown through the great dome of twisted reeves. To his discomfort, he'd landed on a giant, flat boulder. The light from above acted as Spotlight on his large, rock mantel making the prince look like a sacrifice being offered to the gods.

Vegeta's head lulled around blearily and his body ached from the battle he was very badly losing. Since Buu's last victim, it was clear that whatever shred of a chance Vegeta might have stood before was now completely obliterated.

Before the prince could even begin to stand and prepare himself to take his next beating, Buu appeared again. In a flash, he was standing at his splayed feet. Vegeta, who had done nothing but get thrown around for the passed half hour, was not alarmed by his opponent's punctual return. However, what did alarm him was the sudden violent rippling of the tyrant's pink skin. Vegeta watched with weary interest as tentacle-like appendages began to burst from the creature's form like a dozen frenzied snakes. In a split second, the thick, rubbery bands wrapped themselves around his limbs and bound him in his prone position on the boulder. For moments, Vegeta did not struggle. Instead the trapped Saiyan began to chuckle to himself-- coughing up specks of blood in the process. Although his body was worn and broken, Vegeta was not beyond appreciating the consummate beating he was being dealt by this creature who hadn't even broken a sweat in the process. Vegeta realized that in a small and morbid way, he had finally beaten Kakarot-- even if it was only because he had avoided getting killed first. During what was surely the last few moments of his life (in which, Vegeta would spend getting thrown around and stomped on), the prince was finally the most powerful Saiyain alive. Unfortunately, given the circumstances, he could hardly soak in his long overdue triumph over the infamous Kakarot, but he could certainly appreciate the irony of it. If no one else was around to laugh about it, the prince of Saiyans still had the presence of mind to.

Vegeta heaved another painful chuckle. Buu, who had been nearly forgotten, looked down on what was probably a perplexing sight.

Vegeta was suddenly struck with the hollowness of the situation. For the first time that he could recall, he was badly losing a battle and no one was around to either mock him, pity him, or offer him aid. His self-deprecating laugh died slowly as he pictured the would-be reactions of the people he had come to know best; the people who were no longer with him: Gohan, with all his father's self-righteousness, would pity Vegeta and scold the prince's pride for not accepting assistance; Kakarot would go so far as to step in, and even further as to save his life as he'd done so on many occasions in the past; and Piccolo would... well, Vegeta had never quite had a handle on Piccolo. But none of them were there now and so no one-- neither enemy nor reluctant friend-- would see him fall. While this might have come as a comfort to Vegeta in another life, instead a feeling of utter aloneness overtook him. Wherever the others were now-- dead or trapt in the innards of Buu-- he wasn't sure, but he could guess that he was about to join them. And he was surprised that this realization did bring him a small bit of comfort.

As a thick strip of Buu slithered it's way around his neck, Vegeta decided that if he would die-- and this was looking increasingly likely-- it would not be without a Saiyan-worthy fight. He almost laughed again, both hating his pride and grateful to it at the same time. The pinned Saiyan kicked his legs and thrashed his arms and he could swear he surprised Buu with the sudden outburst-- the tentacles were all but thrown off. Buu must have realized then that the prince still had some defiance left to be squeezed out of him, his many tentacles worked even quicker and wound themselves more tightly around Vegeta's limbs and midsection. All the while Buu's arms rested leisurely at his side, as if to further bring home the fact that this was hardly an effort for him. Vegeta grunted and yelped as he was engulfed by the many extremities of Buu. For all his mighty efforts, the tentacles seemed to restrain him with all the more ease.

When it looked like the feisty Saiyan's rage was well smothered, Buu closed the gap between them again. However this time, Vegeta couldn't help but notice an odd air to the creature's closeness. As Buu hovered near his captive, his face became illuminated in the heavy spotlight. Vegeta's struggles began to fade away as he looked into the deep, crimson eyes of his opponent. Buu's eyes had undergone a change since swallowing his last victim, a change that made the hollowness return to Vegeta's chest. The stupidity and juvenile arrogance that had once defined the pink features of Buu had been molded and refined into a new maturity and calm and something else the prince thought looked like naive curiosity. The almost uncanny semblance to an old ally rendered Vegeta breathless.

He tried to turn away but his eyes seemed locked on the hauntingly familiar face. Buu leaned closer still to stand at Vegeta's slightly parted legs, which were kept subdued by the strong tentacles. The monster was studying him.

“I know what you're thinking.” Buu finally spoke, in a voice both smoother and more dignified than Vegeta had expected. He paused provocatively, staring into Vegeta as if he really were reading his mind.

The pink creature's entire manner made the trapped Saiyan feel very disquieted and he wondered what game Buu was playing.

“Having absorbed Goku, I now have his thoughts and memories," Buu explained, lips widening in a fanged grin, "In a sense, our minds are one. You want to know what Kakarot is thinking?”

Vegeta grimaced at the question that was more of a statement and averted his eyes to focus instead on the tentacles surmounting him.

“I can tell you that he's not very impressed with your performance here today...not that he expected much from someone who was already beaten once before... by me!” he recollected with some excitement, "and in a much weaker form too!"

Vegeta would not look again at the unnerving features of Buu's new form. The things the monster was saying were all a part of his game, Vegeta asserted to himself. Just because he now had a grown up face and could speak in complete sentences, it didn't mean that he wasn't the same, simple Buu with a one track mind set to destruction. He was just trying to get under the prince's skin-- play with with his food before he ate it. Vegeta enthused his efforts at escape, thrashing even harder than before, hoping to, if anything, distract the alien from any further verbal assault. However, it was a futile attempt: as Vegeta twisted and convulsed, the quicksand-tentacles seemed to just overpowered him more easily, while Buu himself still appeared totally undaunted by his efforts.

“Do you know,” Buu continued in his low purr, “that he loves to watch you struggle.” he tilted his head, taking in the prince's conflict before adding, almost appreciatively, “It's what you do best.” Vegeta seethed. “You try so hard...but you will never beat me.”

The last part was said in not the voice of Buu but in a voice that caught Vegeta so fully off guard that he abandoned his struggles entirely. When he looked up, he saw that the features which were first only subtly similar to those of his old ally and nemesis were now uncannily so: where first there was a waxy pink shell, was now soft skin; and where first there was a large obtrusive antenna, now sat unruly dark hair.

“Beaten again, Vegeta?” said the thing with both the face and voice of Kakarot, “you're too easy, my old friend.”

Vegeta's breath hitched. One of the Thing's frighteningly Saiyan hands came up to grab Vegeta's jaw. It stared him square in the eye for a long while and the prince realized then that the face, which in all other ways was perfectly matched, held venomous pink irises that were in no way Kakarot's. This realization struck the prince with an odd sense of ease.

“Tell me I'm better than you,” It said with a dark smile that did not belong on that face, “tell me I'm superior in every way.”

Vegeta tried to jerk his head away but the grip on his jaw was painfully firm. Mercifully, the Kakarot-creature released his jaw. 

“Do you remember when we first met,” it asked, eyes brightening in a somehow very unKakarot way, “you were so... mmm-- proud then, weren't you?”

Vegeta would not be pulled down memory lane with this monster who was not Kakarot and he certainly wouldn't have a conversation with it. His lips tightened and he shot the other an unblinking glare.

Buu took no notice.

“You were...so small-- well you're small now, but I remember seeing you then and thinking how oddly small you were.” The face of Kakarot studied Vegeta thoughtfully for a moment before continuing with renewed enthusiasm, “and Nappa was so large! I wondered how it was that you came to be leader. Then I met you and it was clear!” there was an almost good-natured laugh in the creature's voice and traces of a genuine smile in his eyes that caught them both off guard.

Vegeta watched in confusion as the Kakarot creature stammered for a moment, apparently realizing that something had gone amiss. Gone was the offensive smile that had temporarily taken over his face. What replaced it was a searching look, almost ashamed. Whatever had caused the brief moment of serenity was a mystery to even Buu. While the eyes still betrayed the dominant presence of Buu, that fleeting smile had been quintessential Kakarot. Vegeta knew that Buu had intended to taunt the prince with his insight into his old nemesis' mind, however it had backfired somehow. He wondered if Kakarot, while captured, still had some hold over the monster.

A very unnatural look of wrath suddenly darkened the stolen features of Kakarot. Buu had composed himself and was now keen to take his anger at the momentary loss of control out on Vegeta. He tightened his tentacles around his captive. Vegeta tensed as his throat and limbs were painfully squeezed.

He tried thrashing again but it was just as futile if not more so than before. His physical agony was quickly joined by humiliation when he heard the fanatical laughter of Kakarot-- not Buu, but Kakarot. It was a sound that would haunt Vegeta's night's for years after. Vegeta struggled and struggled and the horrible, hacking laughter seemed to go on, echoing in his mind which was rapidly going dark from lack of oxygen. Reluctantly but inevitably, Vegeta felt the fight leaving him.

The prince abandoned his struggle and when Buu was confident that his weakened captive wasn't bluffing, he eased the tentacle from around his strained neck. Vegeta's head fell defiantly away from Buu. Though he had exhausted his stamina and could not fight Buu, he would not indulge the manipulative beast by appearing to be listening.

As Vegeta's breathing calmed and began to quiet, Buu's own breath quickened in apparent excitement. He seemed to think that the upper hand had been surrendered to him. He lowered his face to Vegeta's on the large and slanted rock and rested his arms on either side of the Saiyan's head. The fact that their hips were grazing was a distant thought in Vegeta's weary mind.

“You never could even approach his power, could you? But you just keep at it...” Buu had taken on his true form again and Vegeta felt relief despite himself. “Do you like being dominated, Vegeta,” Buu asked softly, tentatively examining the sweat-drenched face and pulsing neck of the Saiyan below him, "that's the only thing I can figure, because you just keep coming back for more."

Vegeta gritted his teeth but did not face the monster. This seemed to entice Buu and he trudged on.

“Was it Frieza?” he offered, even more softly, “ Is that where it started? Was it your father?”

Vegeta felt a jolt through his body at the audaciousness of the question and his breath hitched in his chest.

“Will you answer me, Vegeta?” Buu's many tentacles throbbed coaxingly around Vegeta's limbs. While Buu's voice mastered a steady softness, his many tentacles abused him. The strips around the prince's thighs were wound so coarsely that they began to tear away at the fabric of his pants.

“I find I have this fascination for you growing inside of me. I can't explain it,” Buu continued more softly, and his face was so close now that his breath heated Vegeta's cheek, “for whatever reason, I want to better understand you. I have so many questions to ask.”

Vegeta knew that the absorption of Kakarot would have a softening effect on Buu, but not to this extent. While the new traits might have been the reason the beaten Saiyan was still alive, he found he much preferred being thrown through rock formations to this bizarre and unnerving display of tenderness.

As Buu whispered intently to him, Vegeta's strength was slowing gathering. He began to quietly struggle again.

“Will you answer me?" Buu pleaded, "talk to me, Vegeta. I want to know you. I know you want to know about me too! Having absorbed Goku, I now share his mind. I know how he feels about you. And somehow those feelings have ...mixed and welled up into a kind of fixation in me," he trailed off, a hand hovering over the tattered cloth on Vegeta's chest, wanting but hesitating to land there. "I have all this new information, but it doesn't add up..." Buu retired his hand to the rock beside Vegeta's turned head, "It fascinates me, your relationship with him."

Vegeta felt a strand of his hair being absently played with and Buu's nose nuzzling it. "I want to feel that," Buu whispered now, lips grazing his cheek, "how you worship him.”

At last, Vegeta broke his silence. “What do you know?” He spat, jerking his head around and startling Buu slightly, “what are you talking about?”

A rogue tentacle quietly glided beneath the rim of Vegeta's tattered shirt and gently caressed his tense abdomen, as if to calm him.

Vegeta felt the tender ministrations of the tentacle but did not break from his fiery glare. Buu grinned darkly and lowered his lips to Vegeta's ear.

“I've seen you rush to clash with him. It's in my mind. I've seen you moan when he overtakes you. Would you do anything for him?”

At this, Vegeta felt his thighs being parted by the tentacles.

“Do you owe him that because he killed Frieza?”

Vegeta heard the beast but his focus was pulled to his parted thighs and Buu's hips which slowly filled the space there.


“What are you doing?” Vegeta's voice came out softly in his confusion.

“Don't you owe me something?”

It was the voice of Kakarot. Vegeta froze for a moment but quickly jerked himself out of it.

“Stop this,” he growled, eyes snapping up to Buu's with a warning,“fight me with honor! Enough of your games!”

Buu only rolled his eyes dramatically. “Oh, you'd like me to beat you some more? Vegeta, haven't you humiliated yourself enough today? No, I think we'll stay here. And besides, you haven't answered any of my questions.” he purred, returning to nuzzling the Saiyan's ear.

“You fool! Release me and fight!”

“I'll release you...” Buu countered, “but you have to do something for me.” and he moved to look directly into his quarry's eyes with a dark intent.

Vegeta, noting some significance in the look, contorted his face as best he could into a look so full of disgust and loathing that there would be no confusion in Buu's mind that the prince would die before doing him any favors.

Buu didn't doubt the glare, but currently the alien's curiosity greatly surpasses his lust for destruction. 

“Just play along a little,” Buu said in a pleading tone not unlike the absorbed third class Saiyan, “I just want to know about you...I can't believe that Goku-- your Kakarot-- never quenched this curiosity. He wasn't as simple minded as he seemed.” Buu looked as though he was searching for something as he furrowed his brow and stared at the ground. “But there's nothing here,” he continued, slightly exasperated, “It's like there's a wall there...all these observations but only observations-- no confrontation. It's as if he never speaks to you about what is so obviously here.”

Vegeta stared off as well. it all sounded like a bunch of psychotic rambling to him. Nontheless, a sharp ache welled in the prince every time Buu mentioned Kakarot. It was the worst when he chose to refer to the other Saiyan and their association in the present tense and not the past, where Vegeta now knew him to be. Kakarot was gone along with the others and Vegeta was alone with this monster who had an inexplicable interest in him. Of course Vegeta and Kakarot had never spoken to one another in such a way, Vegeta asserted to himself, there was never any reason-- no room for such petty discussions. What they have-- had-- was beyond discussion. That's how they wanted it. And that's how it would always be. The familiar hollowness returned to the silent Saiyan as his mind trailed off. What they had would never have a chance to be anything more now.

“Or maybe he tried..." Blood red eyes slowly came back around to Vegeta and the prince realized with a grimace that the monster was still speaking. "Maybe it's you who never spoke to him," the pink alien looked into him with a dark ambition and it dawned on the confined Saiyan that, while physically bested he was, he might actually have the upper hand. Buu could beat blood and sweat and maybe even tears out of Vegeta but he couldn't beat his thoughts out.

“Then that is something the two of you truly do have in common,” the prince said, a defiant grin on his busted lips, “because I'm not speaking to you either.” The prince reveled in the disappointment that passed for an instant over his foe's face, and cherished the slight upper hand as he knew he wouldn't have it for long. He even allowed himself a biting chuckle at the fury that flashed in Buu's eyes at the insubordination. It was quickly hidden and replaced with a dark grin of Buu's own.

The two stared, laughing with each other for a moment. There was a thick tension in the air.

“Oh, Vegeta,” Buu sighed when his laughter finally subsided, “you will talk to me. And I'll make you.” The promise was promptly followed by a sudden rush of activity from the many surrounding tentacles. Vegeta's arms were lifted and pinned above his head against the rock, his legs pried further open. Buu forced his full weight upon him.

“And then,” the impassioned monster breathed, “I'm going to show you how weak you really are.”

Vegeta felt even more pressure come down between his thighs. Was it possible that he had missed this the entire time? Buu was grinding his hips intermittently into Vegeta's, a wildness suddenly possessing him. The fallen prince could not believe the sharp turn the fight had taken and he was so completely harassed that he couldn't focus his mind enough to work it all out. He could only grunt as a tentacle wrapped itself around his head and muffled him like a gag. The thrusts were hard and not meant to be pleasurable, Vegeta guessed. he imagined this was Buu's final act of dominance over him. As confusing as it was, Vegeta was utterly humiliated to be handled so lewdly by an enemy. Disrespect and taunts he could handle, but this was a whole new method of torment that, in all his long years of kneeling at the boots of the more powerful, Vegeta had never experienced. His face became flushed as he shut his eyes in an effort to focus on anything but his agony and shame. Buu reveled in the wonderful discomfort he was causing his rebellious Saiyan as he crushed Vegeta's most sensitive appendage between them.

Slowly but thoroughly Buu thrust into the spread prince as though he were penetrating him. He found the explicit act did wonders in crumbling the prince's pride as he watched tears begin at the brim of his eyes and a look of utter discomfort claim his features. The grunts from the gagged Saiyan grew more ragged and pained. Before Vegeta realized it, the grinding against him had stopped. However, his poor scrotum continued to throb furiously from misuse.

Vegeta dared not open his eyes, afraid of seeing what else the pink monster had in store. But the weight of the other's body was soon lifted off of him completely. A brief moment of relief was then clouded by dread as he felt his own body being raised from the course boulder and hung by the confining tentacles. When Vegeta finally opened his eyes he looked down at his own body upright and hovering just above the ground. His clothes were tattered where the tentacles had torn them but somehow still clinging onto him feebly much like Vegeta was clinging onto his resolve.

“Ready to talk to me, Princey?” he heard his tormentor say. Was the monster so starved for attention that he had to go through this entire, gruesome process every time he wanted to have a conversation with someone? The unexpectedly lighthearted thought passed through Vegeta's mind, easing him for a moment that he cherished while it lasted. He laughed inwardly despite the severity of the situation. All the same, he wasn't about to make it easier on Buu.

Vegeta said nothing and let his head lull to one side. He had undergone countless hours of torture by enemies and even people he'd thought to be allies in the past and never once had he caved under their efforts. While Vegeta had never been faced with such a torture as trying as this, he would face it like all the others. He would not break.

“I had hoped it wouldn't be so easy.” Buu growled appreciatively and Vegeta could hear the grin, “now is the real fun.” Buu took a step closer to the dangling prince who hung, spreadeagled, just below Buu's eye level. The calculative creature let his eyes wander over the defenseless form before resting on his tired face. “You must be in pain...” his hand reached out and cupped the prince's sore member and gently began to sooth it through the thin cloth of his pants.

Vegeta was so wrapped up in his own discomfort and yearning for an end that for moments, he didn't even notice the hand on him. A low moan escaped his lips and he blearily gazed around as though awoken. When he realized the moan had been his own, he looked dangerously up at his enemy and his eyes said, with all the venom he could muster, don't you dare.

Buu's hand continued while his own fiery eyes stared back into Vegeta's.

Vegeta began to seethe. This was intolerable. This was not how it was done.

“Stop this...” he said firmly.

Buu took a bold step forward and was now as close as he could get to the fuming Saiyan without risking getting bitten.

“Stop this now.”

The hand continued, more sensually now and Buu's breath was on his face. Vegeta was not comfortable, to say the least, with this sort of touching and he wished the bastard mutant would grind him some more and make him sore. Not even Bulma had been granted this kind of intimacy. He scarcely even allowed himself this attention, usually disciplining his mind into finding more productive uses of his time. The tentacles around his body, whose roughness he'd grown used to, were wiggling around him now with an foreign tenderness. The tentacles around his thighs began to slither up the tattered cloth toward his groin and more tentacles began wrapping themselves around his chest, tearing away at what was left of his weathered shirt. He felt a soft rubbery appendage caress a nipple and he gasped.

“Buu! Stop this!" he cried, "This has gone far enough! Fight me!” Vegeta did well to keep the the plea out of his voice but he found his resolve was quickly fading as a thumb rubbed over the clothed head of his hardening length. He grunted in frustration.

“Just a little more... do you like that?” Buu asked, knowing the answer but surprising himself with how badly he wanted to hear it from the prince.

Vegeta gave a disgusted cry. Tentacles were now rubbing both of his hardened nipples in slow and concentrated circles while Buu's hand worked his member with a terrible grace. Vegeta was so distracted by the sensations overrunning his body that his mouth hung open. Buu was not worried about getting too close now. He watched, fascinated, as the proud prince reacted openly to his stimulus. Tentacles were now inside Vegeta's tattered spandex and were winding themselves up his throbbing member. Vegeta shuttered and his head fell to his chest. Buu's hand left Vegeta's shaft (it was now being taken care of by a tentacle) and buried itself in his hair. Using the dark main, he tugged Vegeta's head back to attention.

“Look at me,” Buu said into the flushed face of the prince.

Vegeta slowly opened his eyes and a look of utter shame overtook him.

Please,” vegeta grunted, "please fight me.”

Buu hushed him softly and brought up one tentacle to fully quiet the prince. It slowly breached Vegeta's lips and twisted around to allow itself to be fully moistened by Vegeta's compliant tongue. When it slowly extracted itself from the prince's lax mouth a trail of saliva followed. Vegeta groaned as the tentacle then moved around to where his eyes could not follow. A wet spot of precum spread at the crotch of his pants. Vegeta tried desperately to not convey the pleasure he was feeling in his face. His breaths came hard through his teeth and his eyes seemed to struggle to keep from rolling to the back of his head.

“Do you want me to penetrate you with one one my tentacles?” Buu asked casually.

Vegeta's eyes shot open. The tentacle that had left his mouth moments before was now grazing over his clothed buttocks and getting dangerously close to his orifice. What was said began to fully register in the mind of the weakened Saiyan.

“You don't want that, do you?”

The look on Buu's face told Vegeta that he was trying to manipulate him again and Vegeta was seriously considering caving. The prince had been humiliated enough and he was certain that nothing could be worse than being sodomized by his enemy.

Ignoring the pained outcry from his pride, Vegeta said lowly, “no more.”

Buu smiled at the small victory, “That's good, Vegeta. That's good. Then say as I tell you. Say, 'I am weak and love to be dominated.' And say, 'I deserve to be punished. I'd love you to fuck me.'”

Vegeta paused for what must have been too long. He felt a rubbery tentacle of moderate size slide beneath a tear in the back of his spandex and begin to rub coaxingly against his opening. Vegeta tensed hard and found the words had left him. Buu recited them again in an antagonistic effort at aiding the struggling Saiyan. However, Vegeta found that, try as he might, the words would not form in his mouth. They wouldn't happen (It didn't help that he was being so thoroughly prodded.). It turned out that such a consummate defeat was in fact beyond the prince and his pride quietly swelled a little.

He couldn't glory in his personal victory for long: the thick and smooth tentacle could wait no longer and penetrated him with a punishing force for his insubordination. Vegeta howled with a voice he didn't know he had left. Buu smiled and decided he was almost as pleased with this outcome as he would have been had Vegeta complied. The prince hung hopelessly as Buu's appendages raised and dropped him like a puppet onto the thick tentacle, spreading him more and more with each dive. At the same time, fellow tentacles terrorized the rest of his vulnerable body, massaging his chest and milking his beading cock-- but not relieving him. Warm tears began streaming out of his eyes without Vegeta knowing or caring.

The long piece of Buu inside him began twisting and wriggling in ways that wrenched deep moans from the slight Saiyan's throat. He was beyond thought. Buu watched and took in his fill for some minutes before deciding that he was not getting enough from the prince. The thick slab of Buu slowly and tantalizing withdrew itself from Vegeta's body only after dipping in one last time, deeply and thoroughly, as if acting on its own accord. the spread Saiyan was left twitching and dripping. Vegeta seemed unable to hold in his cries now as if his inner nerves had worked up an appetite from the brief intrusion and were desperately yearning for the next stimulus.

Vegeta was gently lowered to the ground and Buu watched him panting and toiling. The used Saiyan's hands glided weakly over his own body as if in search of something. If he reached for his swollen length, Buu would have to stop him. He wouldn't be allowed to relieve himself. Vegeta's nerves slowly lost their razor sharp edge and he was able to peer beneath his heavy eye lids to see his tormentor.

The figure standing above him was changing into something more frightening than any version of Buu. After a moment of only a rippling, amorphous blob, the orange and blue clad body of Kakarot emerged into recognition. To Vegeta's horror, it knelt down between the worn Saiyan's wobbling legs and immediately took to removing the tatters of clothing from them.

Vegeta's weary eyes hectically scanned the form kneeling above him. He first noticed that there were no more tentacles. They had all gone. There was now only a body here-- and a hauntingly Saiyan one. Vegeta mentally pleaded for the being to look up, to look into his eyes. If Vegeta could see those venomous eyes, then he would know that it was Buu and that this was all a part of his terrible game. The Kakarot creature did not look up but had quietly moved up to begin tearing away the scraps that concealed Vegeta's still swollen member.

Look up, Look up! Vegeta's mind cried. Vegeta couldn't see his eyes and he didn't like this.

Suddenly, a hand closed around the base of his shaft and his whole body cried out. Next, the unruly, dark head lowered itself and the weakened Saiyan felt a gentle but assertive mouth taking him in.

No, no,” Vegeta moaned and his arms came up to cover his face. The man sucked him more demandingly and Vegeta's hands flew down to push him away. In one quick motion, both wrists were confined in the large hand of the stranger, who continued to rise and fall between the princes thighs.

Vegeta was very close to losing complete control. All he had was his load-- his climax. Once he lost that, he would be done; he would have nothing left, for the beast had taken everything else. The stranger seemed to take pity on him and let the stiff shaft slip from his mouth unfinished. Vegeta was grateful and infuriated all at once.

He looked down at the man, who finally raised his head, but to no avail. It was too dark in the grove and Vegeta could not make out the shape of the man's eyes, let alone their color. Vegeta sighed as his captured wrists were pulled up over his head. The silent man with Kakarot's clothes and touch settled his hips between the slighter man's bare thighs.

“Don't,” Vegeta said softly, as though the man over him truly was Kakarot and would have compassion. The man only lowered his head to nuzzle Vegeta's neck and used his free hand to raise one of the limp thighs. “Please,” Vegeta tried again.

The shrouded man seemed to be fully focused on his task alone. Soon he was positioned firmly against Vegeta's already moistened and prepared opening and Vegeta was tense and panting in anticipation. The man didn't move. Vegeta grew more uneasy with every passing second.

“Call me Kakarot.” The man finally said, in that ageless voice.

Vegeta found he was glad to hear the cool and gentle voice of his fellow Saiyan at a time when the prince felt completely alone and shed of his control. However, when his mind caught up, he recalled the words the man said and he was slammed back into his circumstances and the hollowness of it.

The slight Saiyan who was proving to be more resilient than either of them expected, said no. What followed was the thick head of a shaft slowly intruding him. The prince groaned loudly. The Kakarot beast ceased his intrusion once the bulbous head of his cock was sheathed and he waited. He didn't ask again but Vegeta knew what he was waiting for. He didn't see what he had to gain from saying the name-- surely the man would do whatever he was going to do anyway-- but, then again, he didn't see what he had to lose either. That brief moment earlier when he'd thought he'd seen the real Kakarot in the face of the monster made him wonder, with a scrap of hope, if the barriers were unstable. Maybe he could call Kakarot out of this. His body was already here in completion, as far as Vegeta could see-- and feel, maybe his mind wasn't far behind. There was little logic in this belief but it seemed to be all the logic the haunted Saiyan needed.

In a cracked voice that seemed to signify the broken pride of the prince, Vegeta spoke the name.

What followed was a sound laced in dark satisfaction from the man on top of him. Then, very suddenly, the broken Saiyan was penetrated to the hilt. A long gasp escaped his lips. His violator began a smooth rhythm of slowly pulling out of him and then very slowly forcing back in. This tantalizing treatment continued for some amount of time that was probably shorter than Vegeta thought it was. It didn't pain him in the least anymore but somehow he found it to be the worst kind of torture. The fire in his low abdomen was building at a steady rate and he could only gasp and arch into it. Distantly, he felt breath against his ear.

"Say, 'please fuck me, Kakarot.'" the monster said in the all too familiar voice, but darkened with lust. Vegeta had never heard that voice take on such a tone. It was terrible. "Say, 'I like it when you punish me.' Say it."

Vegeta tried to jerk his head away. The pace of the thrusts were neither quickening nor slowing and the prince's body was heavily on edge.

“Please...” he began without even knowing. It seemed his body and voice were acting separately from his reluctant mind and were doing whatever it took now to end this torment, “please...”

“Please?” the monster encouraged, finally slowing his pace to the gentlest of thrusts.

“Please,” Vegeta said again, panting roughly, “please, fuck me.”

He hadn't said the name but the plea alone was enough to accelerate the beast into a new course of action. He suddenly sat up on his haunches, releasing the wrists of the grounded Saiyan (Vegeta hardly needed restraining anymore). His thrusts maintained a more enthusiastic rhythm now as he stared down at the defeated prince. He began slowly shedding his shirt to reveal more and more chest and abdomen that were entirely Kakarot's.

Vegeta's mind was waging such a war that he could hardly fight.

This isn't Kakarot, his mind screamed repeatedly Kakarot would never do this to you!

As he battled himself, the head of his tormentor fell back in an arch. The sun outside of the thorny grove had moved and now shone specks of light down on a familiar face lax with pleasure. Slowly, the eyes opened and fell upon Vegeta's own. The prince could see them perfectly now, but where were the venomous irises? Now he stared into the darkest pools. But where there should have been naivety and kindness was now pure, animal lust and power.

"Kakarot?" Vegeta's voice was faint.

Kakarot grinned ferally and his thrusts deepened. Vegeta watched in pure horror.

“No,” he cried, “no, no!

Kakarot leaned over Vegeta as he bore into him, grinning all the while. He watched the eyes of his conquest close tightly and brim with rivers of tears. He found that the prince's voice had not been completely worn out and he relished in the jagged screams. Somewhere in the wild and brutal claiming, a not-so-gentle hand wrapped itself around Vegeta's center of torment and began working it hard. Vegeta could not gage the amount of time it took, nor anything else, but with a painful arche and a last sob, he climaxed in the hand of the only other Saiyan living and received the other's seed to the brim.

Vegeta lye there panting, unaware of much of anything. Before the other body pulled out of him, it gently leaned over him and said, slightly breathless, “Now I've beaten you in every way.” Quietly and promptly, the man gathered himself and walked away, carelessly leaving the other in a tattered and used mess in the thorns.

Vegeta wouldn't see it but as the man distanced himself, he slowly changed. Soft flesh became waxy and hard; wild hair shrank into a neat antenna; the orange and blue gi molded into the mutant uniform; and the darkest brown eyes melted back into venomous pink. When Buu had cleared the great thorny grove, he gave a great long stretch and admired the bright sky. He gaged that he had sufficiently satisfied his curiosity, and smiled. Somewhere in the far reaches of his mind there was a roar of opposition that had been persistently pricking at him for some time now, but it died away into silence. Buu disregarded it again. He didn't like to indulge the odd surges of emotion that came from that part of his mind, for fear of losing himself to it. However, this particular outcry was so strong and so permeating that, reluctantly and for the first time, he did respond.

At least I didn't kill him, he gently sent to the far reaches of his mind. And that was all. Buu moved on.

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