Adult-FanFiction.org : Gundam, Beyblade, DBZ, FMA

Pure Evil Omake: Who\'s Topping Who?	By : sefiru Category: Dragon Ball Z > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 2417 -:- 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-Pure Evil Omake: Who's Topping Who?
- 1
Pure Evil Omake: Who�s Topping
Who?

By Sefiru

Pairing: KV (or is it VK?)

Warnings: NC-17, BDSM, whip, anal, pure evil.

Disclaimer: If I owned this series, it would not be �children�s
entertainment.�

Summary: hot superpowered alien mansex.

Just so y�all don�t forget my little series � Pure Evil 5 is
upcoming in about 2 months, once I finish the
continuation of Feral.

***

�� Kakarott has that
look in his eyes, the one that says I�ll end the night with my soul deep in his
clutches and my body wrung out with pleasure and pain. I can hardy wait. As I
clear the supper dishes away, he says, �Would you like to try something different tonight, Vegeta?�

�� Hunger. Bloodlust. Anticipation. Fear. �I would be a
fool to decline.�

�� Good.� He sits in
his armchair, more like a throne; I kneel beside him and lay my head on his
thigh. And then, after throwing me a tease like that, he makes me wait. And
wait. For more than half an hour he sits, doing nothing but trail his fingers
through my hair. Which is hardly unpleasant, but my curiosity is driving me
insane. And knowing that behind that gentle touch, he�s planning new ways to
dominate and claim me � At length, Kakarott�s hand stills, and he tilts my face
up to look at him. �Ready?�

�� Of course.�

�� Go and get
your ki restraints. And lose your clothes while
you�re at it.�

�� And so it
begins. A familiar ritual to begin the evening: stand up, turn. Walk up the
stairs to the master suite, pause by the hamper to peel off my clothes; take the
steel cuffs from their place of honor on our headboard. These shackles have one
meaning, and one meaning only: I belong to Kakarott, body and blood, mind and
soul. He may do as he pleases with me. Turn again, tail already curled into
submissive posture, and carry my burden back down the stairs to where Kakarott
is waiting for me. I kneel at his feet and offer them to him.

�� Tonight he
doesn�t take the restraints from me as he usually does. �As I said, this will
be different. This time, I want you to put these on me.�

�� What?! �What?!�

�� His
compassionate, implacable gaze bores into me. �Because I
trust you, Vegeta.� Trust. That one word falls
like a hammer on my soul; a tiny piece of my mind squeals that I don�t want
this trust, can�t handle this trust. And that is the horrible truth, that
Kakarott trusts me more than I trust myself. He holds out his wrists in front
of me. I swallow, hard, and open the latch on the first cuff. I close it around
his arm, open the second one and close it around his other wrist. His ki fades away; he has placed himself in my hands, leaving
no way to defend himself. I bow my head against his knees and wait for his
command.

�� Let me stand,�
he says. I move back enough for him to rise. �Follow.� He walks to the two
posts at the side of the room, throwing his clothes aside as he goes. I walk
just behind him as though drawn by a magnet. He stands naked between the posts,
facing the mirrors lining the wall, and gives the order I half expect: �Chain
me.�

�� With shaking
hands I hook the steel chains to his wrist shackles, then to his ankles. He
looks stunning as he stands with his shoulders flexed, his tail relaxed and
still. No anxiety shows in his face. Ki-bound,
chained; I am rarely frightened in these scenes with Kakarott, but right now
I�m terrified. Terrified of what he will ask me to do next.

�� Vegeta. Go to the box on the mantel and take out what you
find there.� I move without thought, lift the lid, and there it lies. The Whip. I feel faint. No! I will not collapse. I am
responsible for Kakarott�s safety; I must remain alert. But � how can he allow
me to strike him? I, who once swore to kill him. I,
who have ravaged dozens of planets single-handedly.
I�m not as good a person as he thinks I am. I�m � not �

�� I know you
know how to use that, Vegeta. See if you can make me scream.� My chin comes up.
My back straightens. I will be worthy of this honor, because Kakarott so
desires it. I will do this, because Kakarott commands. I step up behind him,
measure the distance with my eye, and let fly.

�� The leather
strand strikes him square across the back, just below the corded shoulders. His
head tilts back and his lips part; he makes a sound, too loud to be a purr, too
soft to be a shout. I can see his face in the mirror � and now I understand
what Kakarott sees when I am in pain. He surpasses me, I�m sure. Not even I
could match such shining magnificence. �Again,� he growls. �Continue.�

�� I obey.
Finding the rhythm of the whip, I rain down stripes across his back, his upper
arms and his thighs. He is enjoying the pain; his purr echoes around me and I
can see his shaft stiffening. He glows in the setting sun like a statue cast in
gold. All my previous doubts are gone; I am in a familiar place, calm and
secure: Kakarott trusts me. I cease to exist except as a hand carrying out his
will, an eye taking in his beauty. Someone�s chest heaves with breathing;
someone�s skin beads with sweat. The whip rises and falls, filling the air with
the music of Kakarott�s voice.

�� Some time later
when the sky has grown dark, he speaks again. �Slower.� And
then, �Enough.� The whip falls to my side and I wait. Then he commands,
�Release the chains, and come to me.�

�� I hit the
shackles� quick release, embedded in the whip handle; the chains drop away. And
� his ki swirls out around him, like a sparkling
typhoon. I drop the whip and rush to him, drop to the floor at his heels and
cover his feet with kisses. I�m about to burst with pride and gratitude. Kakarott
allowed me to hurt him. He is pleased with me. And I�m touching him. No other Saiyan is as fortunate as I.

�� Suddenly
Kakarott seizes me by the collar. He lifts me up until we�re face to face, with
my legs wrapped around his hips. His arms encircle my back, holding me up; his
lips close on my throat, nibbling and sucking. Surely this is the moment of my
death. No mortal being could possibly contain all the blessings that Kakarott
is pouring into me. I moan, I writhe, I dig my fingers
into his shoulders. Noises turn into words, a constant whispered chant: �Do it,
take me, do me, more ��

�� He lays my
back against a post, and impales me. I am flung into the mindless space of
sound and sensation that only Kakarott can take me to. He growls against my
neck, which is enough in itself to bring me to the edge. He wants me. He
desires me. He is heat and force and overwhelming power. I can�t name the thing
that finally finishes me; it could be any one of a dozen scents, sounds, points
of contact. My voice fails first; I fall silently into my climax, and then my
world goes dark.

�� I wake up in
our bed with Kakarott wrapped around me. �Please tell me I didn�t just dream
all that.�

�� If you mean that
I made you flog me and then screwed you senseless, no, you didn�t dream it.� He
nuzzles my ear.

�� I lean back
into his touch. �That was intense. Thank you.�

�� Thank you too;
you have a good arm.� He pulls me closer against his chest. �Can you handle
doing that again sometime?�

�� . Yes. It
will be my pleasure.�

***

Essay question (30 points): who was the top in the above
scene? Support your position with examples. (I should have been so lucky with
my English classes T_T)
- 1
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Pure Evil Omake: Who\'s Topping Who?