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Conqueror\'s Consolation	By : kolfinna Category: Dragon Ball Z > Het - Male/Female Views: 2938 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- 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.

Chapter List
- 1-Conqueror's Consolation
- 1
Conqueror's Consolation

By Kolfinna Briar-Rose

Bulma blinked--one minute, she was speeding home from Son Goku's in
her car, the next minute--WHANNGGGG! Something hit her car and set it
bouncing off the road. It tumbled crazily and finally came to rest
upside down, with Bulma dangling from the seatbelt, scared witless,
but unharmed.

"I don't believe this! I'm not that bad a driver!" She braced herself,
and unbuckled the seatbelt.

Thup! In spite of her preparation, she still wound up sprawling
gracelessly on her back on the car's canted ceiling. "At least I can
get out now. I wonder what hit me... I hope it wasn't whoever shot
down Yamucha's car." The power windows still worked, and Bulma rolled
one down and crawled out of it.

She was at the bottom of a ravine--a wet, muddy ravine. "Oh, great!
Not only do Yamucha and Goku have to fight some menace that wants to
destroy the world, my car has to get wrecked!" Bulma began to climb
out of the ravine.

"Ah, there you are!" exclaimed a familiar, high, almost girlish
voice. A strong arm grabbed her around the waist and lifted her into
the air.

"Goku! Thank goodness--" B loo looked into the face of the man who
rescued her, and two things stood out. One, Goku was never this deeply
tanned, and two, Goku did not wear Saiyan armor and a scouter. She
glanced down. Three, Son Goku did not have a tail!

Bulma did the first reasonable thing that came to mind; she screamed.
"Eeeeeeeee! YOU'RE NOT GOKU! You're a SAIYAN!"

"If by 'Goku' you mean that traitor Kakarrot, of course not!" he
sneered. "I am Turles and you are my prisoner." Turles' voice was
eerily similar to Goku's, and he looked like Son's darker twin.

"Wh--what are you going to do to me?" Bulma asked nervously as Turles
hurtled low over the treetops carrying her.

"All kinds of things," he chuckled evilly as a large disk-shaped space
craft came into view. Turles descended, and a door slid opened in the
side of the craft.

Bulma gulped. "What do you mean, 'all kinds of things'?"

"I conquer worlds," Turles said, slinging her over his shoulder and
carrying her inside. "From every ravaged world, I collect what pleases
me--the finest food, the finest wines... and the finest women."

He strode through the corridors of the huge ship, passing through a
large chamber with a great round observation window. "Consider
yourself fortunate; even now my men are planting the seed of this
world's destruction, but you--you will be spared."

One final door slid open, revealing someone's private quarters. Bulma
had a glimpse of a huge bed, more furniture than she ever expected to
see on a spaceship, shag carpeting deep enough to mow--

Turles dropped her ignominously in a large alcove, beside a luxurious
hot tub and looked her over critically.ma wma was suddenly aware of
the mud covering most of her clothes--

"You don't need a tank, but you're filthy. Clean yourself up before I
return." With that, he turned on his heel and left, the door hissing
shut behind him.

Bulma ran to the door, hitting the open button as she'd seen Turles
do. Nothing; she was locked in.

"Oooooohhh! You bastard! Goku will take care of you, you'll see!" She
pounded angrily on the door to no avail.

After calming down, Bulma went back to the dressing room/bathroom
alcove and looked at herself in the mirror. "Well! For all his bad
manners, that Saiyan was right--I am filthy! And sweaty, and
bruised... A hot bath would feel good right now."

After a few minutes of experimenting, Bulma figured out how to make
the tub deliver not just hot water, but hot water with bubble-bath
suds! "Hey, this is great," she said to herself as she slid into the
wonderfully hot water. "I've got to get Dad to design one like this!"
After lathering and washing, Bulma settled back for a long, hot soak.

*      *      *      *

The sound of the door sliding open and shut again jerked Bulma from
her reverie in the hot, soapy water. She sat up abruptly, wisps of
soap bubbles half-concealing, half-revealing her nakedness. Her hands
abruptly covered her breasts as water dripped off her shoulders.
Turles had returned.

"CAN'T YOU AT LEAST KNOCK OR SOMETHING?" Bulma shrieked, embarassment
momentarily overcoming her fear of the fierce Saiyan.

Turles smirked at that, his face brightening as he glanced at the
naked blue-haired woman in his bath. His smirk broadened into a grin
as he slowly pulled the scouter off his ear and tossed it on a nearby
cabinet; his now-tattered white cloak followed.

"Out of taterater, wench." Turles pulled off the heavy armor shell and
tossed it to one side; then bent down and began tugging his boots off.

"Are you nuts??" Bulma said, still holding herself and looking around
desperately for her clothes. She could have sworn she'd dropped them
right next to the tub. There was something different about Turles--he
didn't seem so cocky as before, and the expression on his face when he
first entered... he'd looked tired and defeated, if that were possible
for a Saiyan warrior.

He glanced up at her. "I need a bath, so unless you want to share the
tub..." Turles answered with only mild eerateration as he pulled the
rest of his accouterments off; only his briefs remained.

"Oh." Bulma gulped, looking at the powerfully muscled, nearly naked
warrior. She climbed out of the tub at the far end, away from Turles,
carefully keeping her eyes on him, one arm covering her breasts, while
the other hand tried to protect her modesty lower down.

Not that she really minded keeping her eyes on him; Turles bore a very
disturbing, and yet very intriguing resemblance to Son Goku; for the
first time, Bulma wondered if she'd made a mistake in choosing
Yamucha. There was that about Son Goku--his wonderful sweet nature,
his handsome face, his muscular body, that attracted her; Bulma
couldn't deny that. Turles, Goku's doppleganger, certainly had the
handsome face and the hard, muscular body--but the nature was so
utterly different. She shivered.

Turles noticed. "Cold?" He stalked over to the tub and plucked a large
white fluffy towel from an adjacent cabinet and tossed it at
Bulma. She grabbed it, but at the momentary cost of her modesty. "Dry
yourself before you catch something, wench." He pulled out another,
much larger towel and spread it out on the rug.

"My name is not 'wench'", Bulma growled through gritted teeth as she
spread the towel over herself, "It's Bulma." She began to dry herself
tentatively, trying to keep as much of the towel between Turles' gaze
and her body as possible.

Turles smirked again, and casually peeled off his briefs, tossing them
to the side with his armor. Bulma stopped drying herself to stare at
the impressive evidence of his manhood, licking her lips ever so
slightly. Turles grinned; Bulma blushed as she realized what she was
doing and that he was watching her. She averted her eyes hurriedly and
started drying herself quickly.

"Oh, no, don't hurry... Bulma. Take your time; do a good, thorough
job," Turles said with amusement as he lowered himself into the hot
sudsy water. "And don't hide yourself; I wish to enjoy the view."

Bulma glared at him. "OOOOOOOOOH! If you think I'll--!"

Turles raised one hand, interrupting her. "You will do what I tell you
to do, wench! As I told you before, from every world I conquer, I
enjoy the finest wines, the finest foods... and the finest women. I
will enjoy you, Bulma." He grinned, sinking lower into the hot water.

"Oh, really?" she said, archly. Being called one of the
finest women of Earth flattered her, but the implications did
not. "Where are the rest of these women, Turles?"

"Oh, I meant to have a harem of you Earth women, all the most
delectable, spirited beauties I could find, but... circumstances
intervened." A shadow momentarily passed over his face.

"What circumstances? And what happened to your previous women?" Bulma
asked, a certain amount of dread in her voice. What was to be her
fate?

He frowned, and the lurking ferocity in his gaze reminded Bulma that
she did not want to anger this man. "The circumstances do not concern
you right now; as for my women," Turles shrugged. "Some stayed on
their home worlds--the ones that were merely subjugated, some live
elsewhere, and others... were disobedient and rebellious." The coldness
in his voice sent a shiver down Bulma's spine.

Turles smiled slowly. "You are dry enough, I think. Drop the towel and
come here."

Bulma set the towel down and stood beside the tub, naked and scared.

Turles handed her a sponge. "Wash my back, wen--Bulma."

Okay, I can do this, she reassured herself, though her arms and legs
seemed frozen with terror. At least some of his women lived, unless
he's lying just to calm me down--but why would he do that? As strong
and cruel as he is, he could just overpower me and do what he wants
with my body. This doesn't make much sense.

As Bulma scrubbed and massaged the powerful Saiyan's back, she felt
the corded muscles under her fingers, and again marveled at the
strength in the warrior's body. Damn it, girl, he's come here to kill
Goku and everyone, he's taken you prisoner and means to rape you, and
you're drooling over his muscles! Bulma scolded herself mentally. On
the other hand, he is handsome, and if he wasn't such a cruel bastard,
he'd be very, very desirable...

Turles straightened, allowing Bulma to reach further down his back,
and sighed with pleasure as she continued to scrub him.

On the other hand, Bulma thought, he hasn't been really cruel to
me--yet--and he is attractive.

"That's good," Turles purred. "You make a good little servant wench
when you try, Bulma-girl." He stood up, water cascading off of
him. "Get another towel; I need to dry."

Bulma gulped again as she stared at his aroused manhood from a
distance of two feet, and scurried over to the cabinet where the
towels were stored. She started to hand it to him--

"No, wench. I am the commander of this ship, and you are my servant--I
don't dry myself. That's what you're here for." Turles grinned as he
stepped out of the hot tub. "Dry me--thoroughly. Every inch."

Bulma turned red and clutched the towel to her chest. "Where should I
start?" she squeaked.

Turles grinned maliciously. "Oh, any place--but don't worry about my
hair." Power briefly flared around him, and his hair was dry. "Just
stroke all the damp skin dry, hmmm?"

Bulma's blush spread across the entire front of her body; her nipples
stood out. She started with his back; at least he couldn't watch her
there.

Her breath came in short, frightened gasps as she worked her way
across his broad shoulders and rubbed down both powerful arms. Again,
her fingers ran over the hard, corded muscles with only a soft cloth
between her flesh and his. Bulma calmed a bit as she worked her way
down his scarred back; Turles was far from displeased. As she worked
her way down to his athletically narrow waist and the furry tail
coiled loosely around it, he interrupted her.

"Leave my tail 'til last," he purred. "And don't get any ideas; you
can't hold on to it forever, and you'd not survive letting go."

"Y-Yes," stammered Bulma. What kind of idiot am I? I should have
thought of grabbing his tail earlier! He'd have been just as helpless
as Goku or Raditz were when their tails were grabbed! She started
rubbing carefully above the base of his tail; she heard a sharp intake
of breath from Turles.

Her own breathing was a bit irregular, and her nipples tingled. What
is this?? I'm this bastard's slave and about to be his sex toy, and
he's turning me on! Damn, but he has a nice, tight butt.

She rubbed around the tail and began to towel across his hard, tight
ass. Turles sighed; Bulma could feel the muscles under his side and
thighs twitch and tighten as she toweled the backs of his legs. They
were strong, powerful legs like young oaks; she rubbed them all the
way down to his feet.

Turles put a hand on her bowed head, and pulled her around to face
him. "That was sloppy of you," he said with cruel amusement. "You
missed the inner backs of my thighs, wench. Do them again."

"Yes." Bulma answered feebly. She had tried to skip that part!

"Commander, wench." Turles answered. "Say 'Yes, Commander'; you will
address me by my title, wench."

"Yes, Commander," Bulma said meekly, her eyes on his dripping wet
erection. Sooner or later, she was going to have to dry that, if
Turles didn't have other plans for it and her first. She blushed again
as a strangely pleasant tingle ran through her nipples and between her
legs.

Quickly she returned to drying Turles's backside; her hands ran up the
backs of his thighs, slipping at last between them, toweling very
carefully the tender, puckered opening between his legs. Turles hissed
quietly through his teeth then, and a ripple of goosebumps passing
across his skin.

"Dry the rest of me, wench!" He said harshly. "Slowly!"

"Yes, Commander." Bulma faced the powerful Saiyan, running the towel
over his broad, scarred chest; she circled each nipple
carefully. Turles purred, and his nipples hardened. Bulma worked her
way down his flat, slab-muscled belly, feeling his muscles ripple and
twitch under her fingers. She couldn't keep her eyes from the rapidly
reddeniembeember so close to her breasts, and that pleasant tingle
between her legs intensified. Bulma's nipples stood out, almost
painfully hard.

She switched abruptly to his legs, drying the fronts of those
tree-trunk thighs and calves, patting dry the tops of his feet. Bulma
looked up; Turles grinned back at her as she eyed his groin.

"Oh yes, wench. Dry that, too."

Bulma blushed again; but she still tingled inside. She waited a moment
to let her breathing get back to normal. What kind of sicko am I? He's
a vicious killer who means to rape me and do unspeakable things to me
for his amusement--and I'm getting hot for him?

On the other hand... he hasn't actually done anything to me yet. In
fact, he's kept his hands off me so far, and he does look so much like
Goku, and he's... desirable, and WHAT AM I THINKING??

"Well?" Turles asked with amused impatience. "Get on with it!"

"Shouldn't that be 'get it on'?" Bulma muttered under her breath,
forgetting how keen Saiyan ears were. She started to towel his upper
thighs, very hesitantly.

"That comes later, Bulma-girl," Turles smirked, after a long enough
silence that Bulma thought he hadn't heard.

The whole front of her body turned red and Bulma gulped. Very, very
gently she rubbed the cloth behind and around his testicles, first
one, then the other. Turles' soft groans as she did so were immensely
distracting, as was the insistant tingling of her painfully hard
nipples.

At last she wrapped the towel around his rock-hard shaft and gently
rubbed it down. Turles' breath came in long pleasurable sighs. "Oh,
yes, my wench, you are very good."

He grabbed her shoulders in his powerful hands; Bulma instantly
tensed. He's going to take me now! Half of her panicked at the
prospect, half of her quivered in anticipation. Her traitorous body
tingled all over; her skin alternated heat and goosebumps.

"But not perfect," Turles growled softly. "Beautiful and well-shaped,
a feast for the eye--but every feast needs a bit of sauce and a touch
of spice." He lifted her easily and carried her over to the beach
towel, laying her face down.

Bulma barely had time to wonder what he meant by that, and why he
wasn't using the bed, before something cold and oily dripped onto her
back. She yelped.

Turles laughed. "Yes, a bit of spice. And sauce--such a delicious
feast should glisten and shine." His fingers pressed gently into the
puddle of oil on her back, and he began to rub the oil slowly across
her body.

His firm fingers massaged her back, loosening tense muscles, running
smoothly and sensually over her oil-covered skin. Turles gently
kneaded and oiled her arms, careful not to injure the fragile Earth
woman.

Bulma relaxed as the warm hands stroked her back and neck; she
shivered as his fingers stroked up and down her spine. The tingling
between her legs grew more intense. He's seducing me, she thought. I
should hate that... but this feels so good! She relaxed more,
letting his hands roam over her firm round bottom, and down the backs
of her thighs and calves. She wiggled as his fingers tickled the
bottoms of her feet and rubbed between her toes; goosebumps and heat
ran in waves across her skin again.

A single, oil-covered finger slipped between the cheeks of her ass and
rubbed gently at the opening there; Bulma felt her anus clench and a
wave of pleasure throbbed through her aching womanhood. Turles
chuckled.

"You want me to enjoy this!" she accused him.

"Of course, Bulma-girl." Turles turned her gently over, and straddled
her, pouring more oil between her breasts. He rested his weight
carefully on his knees, barely pinning Bulma's thighs between his own.
He leaned forward and began to oil her throat and breasts; she gasped
as his hardness pressed against her stomach.

He stroked her nipples, rubbing each one between an oil-covered thumb
and forefinger; they grew painfully hard again, and Bulma sighed with
pleasure. Slowly his strong, warm hands worked their way down her
belly, rubbing her flat stomach and stroking her sides. The tingling
in her groin turned into a fierce craving; she wanted this fierce
warrior, wanted him inside her now!

As his hands reached the top of the blue hair tufting her mound, she
gasped, "I thought you meant to just.. take me. I'm helpless against
you."

"Of course you are." Turles worked his way down the sides of her
thighs, carefully skirting the blue hair, though his fingers reached
up to touch her inner thighs once or twice, teasing and
tantalizing. "I told you, I enjoy the finest women. Sex is so much
better with enthusiastic participation, Bulma-girl. Rape is
subjugation, and there's no sport, no savor in conquering someone as
weak as you. I conquer the strong; I seduce the weak."

"You bastard!" Bulma hissed, but not very convincingly; Turles' nimble
fingers stroked back up the inside of her thighs, and Bulma sighed
loudly.

"Yes, aren't I?" he agreed, smirking fiercely. His damp tail unwound
and lashed from side to side, flicking water in all directions. "It's
time you dried my tail, wench. And take care--I'd hate to accidently
break you at this point." Turles moved back, freeing Bulma to move,
and handed her another towel.

Bulma sat up abruptly, half-indignant at being abandoned in the midst
of her growing pleasure. She snatched the towel from him, and stared
at the lashing tail; Turles obligingly flicked it around in front of
him where she could reach it.

Bulma licked her lips; she could grab the sensitive limb and make
Turles scream. The thought of the fierce Saiyan warrior screaming and
begging at her feet sent a fierce heat through her body; her hungry
womanhood throbbed at the thought. But the consequences... No. She
intended to live through this; more, she intended to enjoy it! There
was another way to make Turles beg...

Ever so delicately she took the furry brown tail in her hands and
rubbed it very gently up and down with the soft towel. Turles'
breathing again came in hard gasps; he moaned as she rubbed the tip of
his tail between her two hands. His erection stiffened even more, and
clear fluid oozed from the tip.

"That's... enough," he panted, eyes unfocussed.

"I don't think so," Bulma answered cruelly. She dropped the towel, and
rubbed the now-dry tail with her bare hands, stroking and kneading the
limber organ. She stood up, still holding the tender tail, and moved
behind him, working her hands up the length of the tail to the base of
his spine as she did so.

Turles moaned and fell forward on his hands and knees, his whole body
shuddering. "Woman..." he gasped.

"Yes... Commander?" Bulma asked sweetly, as she knelt behind him and
gently massaged the base of his tail, working back outward to the tip
again.

Turles spread his knees slightly and let his head drop down. "Stop
that, woman!" He gasped again. "I won't be able to control myself..."
He shuddered, moaning loudly.

"But I can control you!" Bulma answered, gently squeezing his tail
between her thumb and fingers, watching his fingers clutch
convulsively at the rumpled towel in response. There was something
very inviting about Turles' posture... Bulma reached around and picked
up the oil cruet with her free hand, and upended it, pouring oil all
over her hand and Turles' delectably tight ass.

"Woman, what are you doing??" Turles shuddered all over as Bulma
squeezed his tail again. "I... warned you... if I lose control... You
wouldn't... survive." He gasped in short breaths between moans.

"You won't lose control, because if you do, one hard squeeze will just
completely ruin your 'enthusiasm'," Bulma said cheerily, a wicked grin
spreading across her face. She slipped one oiled finger into Turles'
anus.

He gasped sharply, and threw his head back, eyes wide with surprise;
his sphincter clamped tight on her probing finger, and only the
slick oil allowed her finger to be forced out before it was crushed.

"Naughty, naughty," said Bulma as she squeezed his tail a little more
forcefully. Turles groaned and spread his knees again. "Now relax and
stop fighting me," Bulma said merrily as she massaged his tail
gently.

"Woman... please," he moaned. The words were music to Bulma's ears.

"I thought you wanted enthusiasm," she whispered as she leaned forward
and slipped an oil-soaked finger into his anus again. This time, he
squeezed gently, and then relaxed; Bulma inserted a second finger and
reached around, massaging him from inside. He started to clamp down
again, and Bulma squeezed his tail just hard enough to weaken
him--then slipped a third finger in as he relaxed, moaning with
pleasure. His knees buckled and he groaned as her probing fingers
found a target; Bulma could feel the waves of pleasure crushing her
fingers, and quickly withdrew before pushing him over the edge.

A last gentle stroke of his tail, and then she massaged her bruised
fingers. Turles groaned and sat up, unsteadily.

"Why did you stop?" he muttered. "Wench, no one has ever done that to
me before!"

He stood abruptly, grabbed her up in his powerful arms and strode to
the bed. Turles flung her down, and threw himself atop her, pinning
her with his weight. She could feel his very hard manhood pressing
against her thigh.

She looked at him in sudden apprehension. Was Turles angry? A fierce
smile greeted her.

"You will pay for that! I wish I had met you before..." A shadow of
bitterness flashed across his face, and was gone almost before she saw
it. "You act so Saiyan..."

He wriggled back and bowed his head; Bulma felt his hot, wet tongue
circling her right nipple, licking it hard again. His lips caressed
it, sucking gently at her, teasing her. She gasped as the ache in her
groin returned full force. Turles pulled back from her nipple and
grinned, then licked, sucked and nipped the other one. Bulma relaxed,
moaning with pleasure as her nipples and groin tingled.

"AHHH!" Bulma cried aloud with shock and sudden pleasure as Turles
slipped an unexpected finger into her opening. He stroked his finger
back and forth, up and down, smirking at the wet, sloppy sound of
it. Bulma mewled and thrust her hips upward, trying to force the
tantalizing finger deeper in--only to whimper as it suddenly withdrew.

"Yesss... you are enthusiastic." The muscular Saiyan raised himself on
his arms and grinned down at her. "Sauced and spiced, and almost ready
for the feast. Just a little more spice in the sauce..."

Bulma gasped as his hot wet tongue met the taut skin of her belly, and
trailed down her stomach, all the way down to the blue hair of her
mound. She held her breath; what would Turles do now?

Bulma shrieked as his hot tongue burrowed between her nether lips to
lap at the bud hidden there; waves of heat surged through her entire
body. She writhed and screamed as Turles devoured her, his skilled
tongue and lips sending waves of heat and pleasure shooting through
her body. Her empty womanhood throbbed, and she whimpered, desperately
wanting it filled, wanting Turles inside her, wanting him to ravage
her NOW!

"Please..." she begged, all plans and pride forgotten in her ravening
desire.

Turles rose up, his face dripping with her juices and grinned
wickedly. "No."

Bulma suddenly felt the hard head of his manhood pressing against her
slick, hot, hungry opening, rubbing against it, teasing her--and then
withdrawing. She whimpered. "Please, take me, I want you, fuck me,
use me, I WANT YOU IN ME--"

"You beg so well," Turles said, smirking. "I accyouryour surrender."

Bulma cried out as Turles plunged into her, his hard length thrusting
easily into the hot wetness of her passage. Bulma gasped; he was so
hot and big and tight, filling her up; her legs wrapped around his
body--Turles flicked his tail out of the way just in time--as she
forced her hips up to meet his thrust.

He withdrew, and plunged in again, and again, pumping slowly, speeding
up as Bulma's moans of pleasure grew shorter and louder. They merged
into one continuous shriek as her orgasm convulsed her, the pleasure
crashing through her whole body in waves starting at her impaled,
violated, filled womanhood and shuddering up and down her spine. At
last she collapsed back, eyes closed, gasping in long, slow moans of
sated pleasure.

Turles' hard shaft still filled her, still stroked her; his fingers ran
up and down her side, stng hng her skin, so sensitive in the afterglow
of orgasm. Every hair, every skin cell seemed to have its own nerves,
nerves that thrilled and tingled to the warm fingers dancing across
her body. Her moans grew longer and louder--

Turles pulled himself out of her completely; she opened her eyes,
puzzled. He smirked again, put a hand on each side of her hips and
flipped her neatly over. Bulma pressed her face against Turles' soft
bed, feeling the cool air against her sweaty back; she felt his
powerful hands lift her hips up...

She gasped as he plunged into her again, this time from behind; Bulma
moaned again and again as Turles slammed into her, his hands holding
her hips and sides. She could feel his fingers working convulsively
against her sides; his breath came in short, harsh gasps.

She felt another orgasm building as Turles stroked her hard, groaning
with his own pleasure. Suddenly he slammed himself all the way into
her and held her tight, his tail curling around her body to tickle her
swollen ember--and her second orgasm exploded in waves of
pleasure. Turles gave a hoarse cry as the spasms gripped his cock; he
thrust back and forth in quick, short strokes as he came, filling her
with his hot seed. He collapsed across her, still shuddering and
moaning with pleasure, his spent member still gripped in her sated,
filled womanhood.

*      *      *      *

She fell asleep curled up beside Turles, his arms around her, and his
warm furry tail wrapped around her right leg. It seemed like she slept
for hours. When she woke, Bulma was alone on the big soft bed. She sat
up and looked around. "Turles?"

The door slid open, and she grabbed the nearest sheet to cover
herself. Turles, dressed in full armor, stepped in. He jerked his head
in the direction of the bridge. "Come."

"In my bare naked skin? ARE YOU NUTS??"

Turles looked exasperated. "You're alone," he said, in that soft high
voice so like Goku's. "My crew is dead."

Bulma jumped out of the big bed and looked for her clothes--then
jumped again as Turles tossed them at her. "You don't have much time
to waste--the orbit is decaying. There was some damage when the Tree
exploded."

"Huh? Okay, you've lost me. What's going on?"

At the door, Turles put an arm out to bar her passage. "Make up a pass
phrase, and say it after me." Turles punched buttons on the door's
control panel, and said something to the ship's computer.

"Uh, 'Shen Long!'" Bulma quickly improvised. "What is going on?"

"Don't forget that, it's now the voice command override for the ship's
computer. I've set it to obey you, now." He strode through the open
door, and a half-dressed Bulma followed him, trying to pull on her
blouse over arms that suddenly seemed to have three extra elbows.

"There's the ship's controls," he pointed, "the computer will fill you
in on the details. You need to put it down somewhere safe." There was
a grim set to Turles' jaw.

"For the last time, WHAT IS GOING ON?" Bulma screamed. "And what
happened to your crew?"

"Your friends killed them attlattle." Turles was definitely grimmer
now.

"And Son Goku?" Bulma whispered, dreading the obvious answer.

Turles gave a short bitter laugh. "Kakarrot killed me and destroyed
the Tree. I go to Hell, Bulma-girl... I chose to linger for one last
delight..." He pulled her to him suddenly, and kissed her
passionately, his tongue thrusting deep into her mouth.

"This ship is yours," Turles said. "Remember me with pleasure,
Bulma-girl. I will remember you...." He faded as he spoke, turning
pale, then transparent, then gone.

Bulma was alone.

*      *      *      *

Two days later, when Bulma and Krillin, Goku and Gohan and the rest of
their friends gathered for the long-interrupted camp-out, and
conversation turned to the events of the last few days, all Bulma
could bring herself to say was, "It was a good thing Goku hit his head
when he was young, or he might have gone with Turles..."

She listened silently, smiling as Goku joked about the scar on his
head, pretending to smile as the others talked about the terrible
fight against the Turles' men, and how Goku destroyed the Tree of
Might and killed Turles, and all the rest.

I'm the only one who has rts, ts, she thought. Why did he have to be
so evil? He tried to kill Goku, and Gohan and destroy the world; if
only it hadn't been that way. There was something about him--hints of
something more than cruelty and evil. If only we had met another way,
another time....

Bulma looked across the fire at Yamucha, and hastily wiped a tear away
before anyone noticed.

The End

Disclaimer: Dragonball,
Dragonball Z and all the associated DBZ characters (too numerous to
list) are the property of Akira Toriyama and a whole lot of other
people who are not me; everyone else is mine, and this story is mine,
too. This is a not-for-profit work.

Copyright 2001 by Kolfinna Briar-rose

Last Updated: Apr 7, 2004
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Conqueror\'s Consolation

Conqueror's Consolation

By Kolfinna Briar-Rose

The End