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Mind Rape	By : MutantPoptart Category: Dragon Ball Z > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 18434 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 2
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.

Chapter List
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The Confrontation

It wasn’t difficult to find Bow, as the fledgling mutant was never far behind.
“Did I not return him to you?”
“What was left of him.”
Bow didn’t even try to hide his grin.
“You went far, Bow. I don’t ask much of you. I let you do what you want, never limiting or caging you in. I gave you every privilege-- a world to play in. I only had small requests.”
“I didn’t kill him.”
Buu tried to level his breathing.
“Did he not crawl to you?” Bow offered.
“He did.”
“Did he not call out to you?”
“You did a fine job of weakening his resolve, Bow, but I noticed you didn’t stop there.”
“Your Saiyan is a hard-headed one. It took a lot to break him.”
Images flashed in Buu’s head of Vegeta in the dirt, clothes torn and skin damp with sweat and other fluids, particularly between his thighs. His small frame wretched and twisted to recoil from Buu’s hand as it reached out to comfort him. It wasn’t longing or lust that made him tremble, but pure and intuitive terror.
“Break him you did.” Buu said to the ground.
“Was it difficult to extract the Dragon Balls?” Bow asked off-handedly, reclining on the gnarled tree trunk he was sitting on. “He stretched more easily than I thought he would. A few times, I was sure he would tear, but,” and there was a hint of disappointment in his deep voice. “Saiyan flesh is strong.”
Buu inhaled deeply and slowly released.

In fact it was a grueling task getting the balls out.
The unnatural swell of Vegeta’s belly and the band of Bow’s flesh strapped between his thighs was indication enough that the younger mutant had done more than give Vegeta a stern talking-to.
When Buu had disposed of the obstructing appendage, he was disheartened when whatever it was, didn’t simply slide out. Vegeta’s bruised entrance was swollen shut and looked ever so tender.
Buu would have liked to take his time, to be gentle with Vegeta, but the Saiyan’s opening was already so stretched that he could easily slip three fingers inside as he reached for the mysterious object. It was only the distress the prodding seemed to cause Vegeta that made Buu hesitate. The object would not be dispelled painlessly. Vegeta’s battle-seasoned body had already begun mending itself, but with the band of Bow keeping him from ejecting the foreign object, the Saiyan’s efficient system had been forced to begin its healing process around it.
He felt the perfectly smooth, glassy surface of the thing with the tips of his fingers and instantly knew what it was and, if he knew Bow, that it wouldn’t be alone.
Vegeta’s body shuddered and tensed as if now trying to keep the bulky orbs inside.
Buu whispered soft encouragement, stroking the tangled mane. Unconscious though he was, Vegeta seemed to react to his gentle presence. His slight body pressed back needily into Buu’s, seeking relief from the growing discomfort inside him as the balls slowly traversed his tender bowels.
“That’s it, that’s it.”
Buu braced the Saiyan against himself and tried to ease the passage of the Dragon Balls with his fingers as best he could. As he grazed the cool marble though, something kept happening that made Vegeta’s whole body seize up and shiver. Buu also noticed, when this happened, that Vegeta’s cock would give a slight leap. He pushed it out of his mind and focused on the task at hand.
As the overworked muscle of Vegeta’s hole stretched taut around the widest part of the first Dragon Ball, the half-conscious Saiyan went so gravely silent that Buu feared for a moment he’d stopped breathing. Finally, as the ball popped wetly free, Vegeta let out a desperate sob and his chest rose and fell with trembling breaths.
Each ball was easier than the last. Buu remained fastened to Vegeta, soothing him the entire way.
Vegeta’s body was reduced to a shuddering heap of limbs when all seven were finally out. At last, he would be able to rest after what was sure to have been a harrowing ordeal.
As Buu carried Vegeta back to the newly crafted bed in the hut, he felt Bow’s presence behind him, but the fledgling mutant was nowhere to be seen.
Buu had allowed his creation to drift from his mind but, like in life, Bow never drifted too far. Every anguished howl, every sleepless night, every flinch and recoil suffered by the Saiyan on Buu’s watch was a haunting reminder that Bow had a debt.
The rebellious young mutant would need to answer for his actions and now the time had come.
Buu rounded slowly on the lounging mutant who, for three weeks, had been looming in the back of his mind like a dark cloud in the distance. As he looked into the deep red eyes, which were not so unlike his own, Buu thought for a moment, that he saw recognition there, understanding, like Bow knew what was coming.
Buu reflected briefly on the slight hesitation in his arm as he extended it out in front of him. It took him a moment to pinpoint the name for what he felt growing in his chest while the ball of energy grew in his palm. Finally, he recalled it was regret. He noted it, tucked it away, then released the blast.

When Vegeta wasn’t bathing in the lake, or picking vegetables in the garden, he was resting, at Buu’s insistence. The bed in the upper story of the hut was enormous and Vegeta guessed by its proportions that Buu hadn’t actually seen a bed before constructing it and overcompensated as a precaution.
It was not only the size of three king-sized beds pushed next to each other, but obnoxiously comfortable. Vegeta didn’t know how many pandas had to die to make it but it was the softest bed he’d ever laid in. Even Bulma’s family, with their vats of wealth, didn’t know beds this gluttonously cozy. Even in his childhood memories as prince of Vegeta, he couldn’t recall experiencing such opulent repose.
Beneath Buu’s watchful gaze, Vegeta had to physically restrain his own rapturous moans every time he crawled into it. When Buu asked him how the mattress suited him, the Saiyan would manage a mollified nod. There were few indignities Vegeta had been spared in the mutant’s presence, but he couldn’t bear giving Buu the satisfaction of knowing he’d made the aged Saiyan more comfortable than he’d ever been in his life.
The feathery bliss engulfing his limbs was a distant thought now however.
Earlier that morning, Buu had left the hut with barely any explanation. The mutant had been behaving strangely since the previous night, which was becoming a fog to Vegeta.
Vegeta had been washing up at the lake, while Bow watched from the shore, as he often did. When his host wasn’t watching, he assisted Vegeta directly. In the Saiyan’s recovery, Buu would act as a leaning post or even help bathe him. Up until then, it had always been with the clinical detachment of a nurse. This time, however, Buu stared with a new brimming antsiness, as though he was restraining an urge to lunge out of his skin. His eyes pried and lingered in a way that was neither caring nor clinical. It wasn’t with concern for the Saiyan's well-being that his eyes followed Vegeta’s hands as they roamed intimately over his naked skin.
Afterward, Buu accompanied the Saiyan up to the hut’s upper story like so many nights before, but as they ascended the steps, the feeling of something being off hit Vegeta again. In the dim passageway, Buu stuck close behind him, bumping into him occasionally in his poorly-disguised haste to get them to the bedroom. Once there, Vegeta didn’t resist as Buu began undressing him. Over the weeks, the Saiyan had grown accustomed to Buu’s hands on him and didn’t flinch as they slid beneath his clothes and peeled them away. What was new as that, when Buu got down to his fitted briefs, he didn’t stop. Slowly, he slid the clinging garment down and over the bulge of his thighs, past his knees, and over the mounds of his calves, finally kneeling to rest them at his ankles.
Buu stayed in his knees as he proceeded to examine Vegeta’s naked body. Even kneeling Buu was an imposing figure and had to crane his neck down to bring his mouth to Vegeta’s member.
Vegeta looked away, face burning. He should have been fighting, pushing Buu away, but his limbs felt paralyzed and his mind beckoned him into the numbing blackness. For a while, he fought it, grasping for lucidity, but eventually, the blackness won out.
Far away, in the depths of his mind, he couldn’t gauge how long he stood there with Buu kneeling before him. The mutant’s cavernous mouth didn’t keep to his cock but explored, hungrily following the paths Vegeta’s hands had made earlier when he’d bathed himself.
At some point, Buu had moved him to the bed, where Vegeta was roused from his mental fortress by a sudden breech of his physical body.
Like every other part of the Buus’, their tongues had elastic abilities. The wet, wormy thing dove into him without end. Vegeta’s muscles seemed to remember their strength and jerked to life, all working to pull his body up the bed to dislodge the assailing thing. Vegeta clawed at the sheets, his back curling and hips bucking as he desperately tried to escape the slick appendage deeply invading him. Despite his impassioned efforts, Buu’s superior strength held his thighs firmly against the mattress.
The alien tongue twisted and wriggled and Vegeta didn't know how much of it had extended and expanded inside of him. Finally, seeing no escape from the prying touch, Vegeta, once again, sought out refuge in the blackness.

He came to as Buu withdrew. He knew what would come next, and just as well that he could do nothing to stop it. Yet, as he felt Buu’s hips settle behind his own, he heard a seizing cry. He was as shocked to find it was his own cracked and weakened voice as Buu seemed to be.
The mutant froze on top of him a moment before pulling away entirely.
Vegeta felt Buu’s presence beside him on the bed until he finally dozed off, but the mutant didn’t touch him again until the following morning when their hands brushed briefly as Buu handed him a plate of breakfast.
When Vegeta finished, Buu said he was leaving, but would return soon.
Vegeta didn’t ask him to elaborate and Buu didn’t wait for his response, but descended the stairs without another glance back. It was the first time Buu had left him alone since he’d woken up two weeks ago. He’d never even gone out of earshot.
Vegeta felt he knew where he went.
There had been a shadow over them, and what had happened last night somehow gave it shape.
Vegeta was in the garden when he felt the rise of energy in the distance. His breath caught in his chest as the power swelled to a climax before silently, sullenly fading away for good.
He finished picking vegetables for his lunch meal, then roamed the grounds for the rest of the day.
It was late when Buu returned and Vegeta was lying in bed, though he wasn’t asleep nor tired at all.
Buu looked shaken but unharmed as he entered the room. If there had been a battle, it was quick, but somehow Buu didn’t look like the victor.
The ancient creature was like a ghost as he moved aimlessly through the room before arriving at the foot of the giant bed, as if by chance.
When Buu’s eyes found Vegeta, he seemed to be looking through the Saiyan more than at him.
“He’s gone,” he said, voice as hollow as his stare.
Vegeta instantly thought of the blast.
“Did you…” his eyes scanned Buu’s form as his body unconsciously recoiled on the bed.

“No,” Buu said. “I didn’t absorb him.”
Vegeta relaxed some but couldn’t shake the sinking weight in his gut.
“If I’d absorbed him, I would have been different,” Buu continued, answering the uneasiness that was surely clear on Vegeta’s face. “I wouldn’t have come back the same. Do you understand?”
Vegeta didn’t understand. Buu hadn’t absorbed Bow, yet the second mutant was gone. That could only mean that Buu destroyed him. But why would he do that? Why would he waste that power instead of taking it back?
But it wasn’t triumph or power-lust Vegeta read in Buu’s downcast face, but something else, something he couldn’t place. He took in the strange sight before him of pink waxy skin, still striking in the dim room, the black eyes, like hollow sockets with bright red bulbs of irises, pointed down at the sheets. The smooth, prominent brows were strained in a way that made the mutant look aged and weather-beaten. It was an entirely unnatural look for the almighty being.
“It wouldn’t have been me coming back to you now. I had to know you’d be alright.” Buu looked up at Vegeta then, really looked. Those red and black eyes, sallow and starving, needing him to understand.
Finally, Vegeta thought he did.
If Buu had absorbed Bow back into himself, he would have transformed—into what, Vegeta didn’t know. What the mutant seemed to be suggesting though was that it would be neither this Buu nor the Buu from the grove, but something else, possibly something worse. Certainly, absorbing Bow now, after all the younger mutant had become, would make for a very dangerous mix. Vegeta would even go so far as to assume that the ensuing transformation would be the worst of all of them. Buu himself seemed unsure of what would happen, but knew enough not to want to risk Vegeta’s safety, which, the Saiyan now realized, was really what Buu was trying to say.
Buu killed Bow for Vegeta.
Vegeta didn’t move as Buu slid into the bed next to him and pulled him close.
It was an odd thing to grasp, the demise of his second tormentor at the hands of his first.
Vegeta wondered warily if Buu was going to expect anything from him-- a thank you, something else. But the weary mutant only held him, and eventually his eyes drifted closed and his breathing became slow and even. It crossed Vegeta’s mind that Buu was sleeping, which was another strange look for his caretaker. He hadn’t seen Buu do anything like rest in all the time they’d been sharing the hut. Still, that seemed to be the case. Exhausted emotionally and physically by the confrontation and resultant destruction of his only fledgling and comrade, Buu was now sleeping.
There would be no such escape for Vegeta however. Instead, the Saiyan lye in his bed in a kind of trance. Even after Buu seemed to sink into a deeper rest and shifted away on the mattress, Vegeta was wide awake, eyes adjusting to the blue-grey hue of the domed ceiling. The dull surface was free of any distinguishing features and Vegeta felt like he was staring into an endless void.
Bow was dead. Bow was dead and Vegeta felt no relief from it.
Two smiling young boys skipped into his vision and chased each other across the ceiling. One of them was small with thick, unruly hair too much like his father’s. The other, taller, had sharp blue eyes and a cunning grin that always proceeded mischief. Although the second boy was older, he was still young-- too young. From beneath the cap of lavender hair, he smiled that elusive smile, the one he hid for fear of appearing childish in his father’s eyes. Oh, how Vegeta loved seeing it. It melted his core and made him doubt that he ever cherished anything before it.
Even when he closed his eyes he couldn’t stop seeing the boys, couldn’t stop hearing their lilting laughter echoing in the empty darkness.
When he opened his eyes again, the Namekian and grown son of Kakarot flashed briefly in his vision before melting back into the blue-grey.
They were all dead. The fact was more resonant now than when he’d first learned that Buu had absorbed them. The difference now was that there was no room for hope. He had failed them all over again but now, there was a permanence to it.
Vegeta didn’t notice until his breath was rattling through his chest and the mat, blank surface of the ceiling was rippling before his eyes, that he was crying.
He tried to stop it, turning over and snarling into his pillow, but the hot tears kept seeping out, soaking his cheeks and bleeding into the fine cotton. Before long, his breaths were quick and stuttering and he was hiccuping uncontrollably.
The atrocities Bow had committed on him were suddenly small and insignificant in the face of this awful new truth. Two days in hell couldn’t overshadow the staggering loss of his only son.
His heaving breaths, which surly shook the very mattress, must have woken Buu because soon the mutant’s warm mass was wrapped around him again and a large hand was gently stroking his hair.

Hey, aff readers. Sorry for the delay on this chapter. Classes have started and I'm pretty swamped. I plan to continue writing in my free time though so don't worry! I plan on seeing this story through to the end. I love hearing from you guys in the comments. Reading your thoughts on the story always gets me excited. So, thank you for the comments and I hope to get the next chapter up soon!
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Mind Rape