Hormone Therapy | By : CardDragonBall Category: Dragon Ball Z > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 10207 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own DragonballZ, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
Notes:
Slash. Misplaced drugs. Humor.
Sex.
I do not own DBZ or any of the characters, because
if I did, Chichi would be a crater, and the show would be: Dragon Ball Nc-17.
t'>
~~~~~**
Bulma
often worked on projects that she never really had any intention of
finishing. It was just a way to keep
her busy so she didn’t kill the neurotic Saiyan that lived in her house. Aft>After listening to hours upon hours of “I am
the Prince of All Saiyans” and “Don’t mock the great Vegeta” she was just about
sick of him. A few involuntarily blood
samples later—she shocked the Prince into complete paralysis by jumping into
his shower with him one day—she was dissecting his genetics and figure out a
way to make him pregnant. Odd, she
realized, considering in order for him to get pregnant he would need to undergo
a reverse hysterectomy—that is to say, someone would need to donate a uterus to
him—but she was not deterred. Nothing
was impossible. Hormone therapy was
curing all the ills of the world, so it would certainly—eventually—allow Vegeta
to grow an uterus. What exactly she
would do with the Prince of all Saiyans once he had one, she had no idea. But that wasn’t really exactly the study was
it?
If
she had to listen to him prostrate on how great he was, how powerful he was and
how Goku was a third-class idiot, she was going to pound him into the ground,
and he wouldn’t have to worry about defeating Goku.
After
nearly six months of toiling over the magic uterus-growing potion, she trudged
into her kitchen with a—clearly marked beaker full—of the mixture, and in a
huff seton ton the counter. Exhaustion
drove her from there to her bed, and she slept for many hours, only to wake up
and find that the beaker was empty.
What
sort of idiot drinks a beaker that says DO NOT DRINK? How could one person be that stupid?
And
a part of her giggled and hoped that it was Vegeta that did it, because it
would be hilarious to find him trying to figure out what the hell was
happening. In fact, it would be downright
sidesplitting. But, she did not know if
he had done it, and she didn’t know the side effects, so she just heaved a
great sigh, and returned to her lab to try and figure out a way to synthesize
more of the liquid.
~~~~~*
Vegeta
was starting to think that maybe he ate something he shouldn’t have. Or maybe it was the five hours of sparing
with Kakarot that made him feel sick.
The man had a way of beating the blunt facts into Vegetaan
an
style="mso-spacerun: yes"> He wasn’t stronger, but he was getting
stronger.spanspan>The Prince had stormed into
the kitchen blindly—dirt and blood were crusted in his eyes—and picked up what
he thought was his glass from that morning, found that he had left water in it,
being too angry to really care that the water was old, he had swallowed it all
in one gulp.
That
was four hours ago. And his stomach was
seizing. His chest hurt like someone
had punched through him and he had the distinct feeling that his hair was
growing longer—not in the Super Saiyan good way. All these things were more than a little unnerving. In fact, he didn’t like any of it.
So
he stumbled down the stairs, yelled for the woman. She appeared, in a haze that was sort of psychedelic purple, and
he crossed his eyes, trying to focus on just one of her. She was speaking but it sounded like the
teachers on Charlie Brown. No language
he would ever understand. Then she put
her hands on her hips, and he knew that whatever he was experiencing was
entirely her fault, and entirely irreversible.
The purple swirled, changed to orange, and he was now looking at what—to
him anyway—seemed like a giant talking pumpkin.
Vegeta
stepped back, felt gravity give way again, and passed out.
~~~~~*
Goku
crouched and looked at the odd look on Vegeta’s unconscious face, and the drool
that was slipping down his chin. “What
happened to Vegeta?” he asked.
Bulma
huffed, put her s ons on her hips again.
“I think he drank something I was working on.”
“He
looks green.”
“Of
course he looks green!” Bulma said. “I
don’t know about you Saiyans, you’re always getting into things you don’t
belong in. All I did was leave the
beaker for five minutes and the idiot drank it.”
“What
did he drink?” Goku asked. He poked
Vegeta and watched the unconscious man swat at the annoyance.
“A
synthetic hormone. Goku, could you pick
him up and carry him to my lab? I need
to see what he’s done to himself.”
Goku
nodded, scooped up the prince and followed after Bulma.
“Why
are you here anyway, Goku?”
“Oh,
Chichi went home to visit her father, and I was hungry.” He laid Vegeta on a lab table and moved
back, scratched the back of his head and smiled.
Bulma
pulled out a needle, braced herself as Goku screeched and flew back. He hovered at the exit as she shook her head
and took a blood sample from the sleeping Prince. Once the needle was out of sigh, Goku inched forward again.
“What
are you doing?” he asked.
“Trying
to extract the gender identifying genetic material from this sample of
blood.” She looked over her shoulder at
Goku, who was just standing there, blinking.
For such a large person, his brain had to be slightly smaller than
average. “I want to see if my mix
worked. If it did, Vegeta might have
become part-female.”
“Oh.”
Almost
half an hour later, Goku was stretching and exercising—it had only taken him
five minutes to eat everything in her kitchen—and Bulma sighed, pushed away
from the console. “Well, good news and
bad news,” she said. “The potion worked
exactly like I thought it would.”
“So
what’s the bad news?” Goku asked.
“Vegeta’s
a girl—well, he’s part female anyway.
He’s able to get pregnant. But
he won’t have mammary glands or anything like that.”
“What’s
that?” Goku asked.
“Boobs,”
Bulma explained. “He can get pregnant
but he doesn’t have boobs.”
~~~~~**
Vegeta
was waking up gradually. His head was
pounding like a jackhammer. His hips
ached horribly, and he had the distinct feeling that someone was starin
hi
him. Vegeta blinked away most of the blurriness and
demanded: “What?!”
Bulma
sighed. Then she started bitching: “What did you think you were doing drinking
that potion? It said very clearly not
to drink it! Why would you do that
Vegeta?”
“I
am not a woman!” he snapped.
“If
you don’t want to believe me then see for yourself.”
“What
is that supposed to mean,an?”an?”
Bulma
met his angry stare and pointedly dropped her gaze to his crotch. “See,” she repeated, “For yourself.”
mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt'>~~~~~~~~~~~~*
Nope,
has nothing to do with the other fic.
This idea came to me. Should sum
it up rather quick in comparison to the other one.
Gk:
Gk:
Hey! Why ’t I’t I get to get
high?
Vegeta: It’s
all goo. Free love, man! Asparagus for everyone!
Gk: And what
about Chichi?
Author: Died
in transit?
Gk: Huh?
Vegeta: She
is just a tiny part of the universe, man, what hill of beans will amount to…?
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