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Pure Evil 4: A New Evil	By : sefiru Category: Dragon Ball Z > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 7986 -:- 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.

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Pure Evil 4: A New Evil

By Sefiru

***

Pairings: Kakarott x Vegeta

Warnings: NC-17, yaoi, anal, oral,
BDSM, bondage, violence, language, pure evil.

Disclaimer: I own nothing, all belongs to Kakarott. Long
live the King.

Pun_xy: Mr. Satan is just the
beginning. ^_^

Starlight_dragon: I�m glad somebody appreciates my sense of humor.

Fly: thanks for reading. ^^

Xero Sky: True to life? I don�t know quite
what you�re trying to say � unless you mean that we�re seeing Vegeta�s response
to Kakarott when he�s not in sub-space. I know, I can be melodramatic at times
(just call me �Heston�).

In this chapter: Vegeta shows Kakarott the ropes.

***

Chapter 3: The Ropes

***

�� Dinner is nothing
more than a fond memory, and the dishes are cleared
away. I lie on the couch with my head on Kakarott�s
lap as he runs his fingers through my hair; the meal and this treatment has me almost asleep. Almost.
Because I have a special treat for him tonight. I look up at him through my
lashes: �Kakarott ��

�� Yes?� Sweet kami, that voice. Dark, sensuous, hungry.
I harden at once.

�� I had something
to show you.�

�� Oh? Let�s see it
then.�

�� I roll off his
lap and walk across the room to the fireplace. As I go, I casually run my hands
under my tank top and pull it over my head. Then the pants, in four motions:
button in front. Button over my tail. Push them off my
hips, then step out and kick them aside. Now wearing only my collar, I open the
toybox on the mantel and retrieve what I stashed there
earlier � a coil of snowy white rope.

�� I hit a control
with my tail to start the music; it�s slow and meditative, rather than my usual
pounding beats. That should make him curious. I stand in the beam of evening
light streaming through the windows, which makes my skin glow bronze, and cast
a glance at Kakarott. He is leaning forward slightly, his tail tip flicking
from side to side. Excellent. I take the end of the
rope and loop it into a clove hitch, then slide it onto the base of my tail. I
place another about a handspan further on. And another. And another. Now I can
reach my collar with the rope; I loop it through and pull my tail close. I take
a moment to run my hands down my back to my now-exposed cleft. Ah, that�s intense. Then I bind the rest
of my tail and tie it off at the base.

�� I wrap the rope
around my body, waist to shoulder to neck; this part�s mostly for show. And
what a show it is. I smirk faintly as I pass the rope around my thigh. The legs
are the tricky part: I must wrap the rope in a specific pattern crisscross down
my leg. Then up and over my tail, and the same pattern up the
other leg, in reverse. And I�m having trouble concentrating. I�m binding myself. For
Kakarott. Focus; double-check the wrappings, have I aligned them right?
Good. I slowly start to pull in the slack.

�� I fall to my
knees as my ankles are pulled to my thighs. I have discovered in practice that in order to tighten evenly and not chafe, the rope must
be pulled in at a trickling slow pace. My hands are shaking slightly; I need
all of my training discipline to complete this task. Imagine it�s a kata. Every movement precise. The
tighter I am bound, the hotter my passion flows.

�� I run the rope
back up to my neck and around my body to make a symmetrical pattern and tuck it
through the loops on my tail. Now for the last part. I
fold the remaining rope into a series of figure eights, one on top of another.
I tie the end off loosely and start working my arms through the loops behind my
back. It�s a good thing I can slither like a snake. The first coil fits around
my biceps, and the rest spread evenly down my arms to my wrists. Again I pull
the slack in, and then close the final knot. Finished.
I look over at my audience.

�� Kakarott is
leaning back in his chair, his eyes are wide and he�s almost drooling. He stands up and walks all the way around me,
studying me like a work of art. Casually he sheds his clothes. He bends down
until our noses are almost touching and whispers, �I should take you right here
and now. But that would be too easy.�

�� A band of black
velvet appears in his hand, which he binds over my eyes. Darkness.
His hands leave me; I sense him prowling just outside my reach. Without warning
his tail grazes over my ribs and I gasp at the touch. A pause; step, step,
step, and then fingers ghost down the length of my arm. Another
pause, and then a flick of fur on the sole of my foot. I yelp and twist
in my bonds. The touches come faster, never more than feather light: fur, skin
and � what the hell was that? It feels like metal.

�� Something brushes
across my lips; I flick out my tongue to catch it and am surprised to taste a
drop of salty fluid. Wait,
that was his cock! Now
every time his skin touches me I have to wonder what part of his body it is.
The metal is back, a brief flick over my nipple; it�s maddening. I moan and cry
out in the darkness. He adds something new to the torture: soft and slightly
fuzzy. I flex against the ropes, trying to get the stimulation I crave, but
it�s futile. I am at the mercy of his will.

�� There is a
crunching sound, and he presses a piece of peach to my lips; that must be the
fuzzy object. He�s holding it between his teeth � his lips brush mine as he
passes it to me. A wave of heat fills my body. More! I can hear his purr rumbling around me. Ghostly fingers wrap
around my tail and trace it to the end, nails ticking against the knots. But it
doesn�t squeeze, and I scream in frustration. He continues his random touches,
skin, fur, peach � sometimes passing me a bite � and metal. My shaft aches and
pulses with every touch.

�� Finally he tips
me onto my back. I spread my thighs wider in anticipation; he clamps his lips
onto mine, and plunges into me with one motion. I scream into his mouth. For
once he gives it to me exactly as I like, hard and fast, ramming into my sweet
spot with every thrust. My eyes roll back under my blindfold. I don�t beg
because there is nothing more that I want; my muscles lock, my veins pulse, my
throat closes on my voice and I explode. Kakarott is right behind me.

�� My awareness
returns slowly, lazily. My eyes are still covered, but Kakarott is carefully
undoing the ropes; I am lying against his chest, rising and falling with his
breath. As he frees my arms I tuck them around him to stroke his velvet skin.
This may be the last chance we have to spend �quality time� together in a while,
and I want to make the most of it. He loosens the knots along my tail and that
goes around his waist too. At last he takes the band from my eyes. I look up at
him, glowing and satisfied, and then over at the coffee table. Lying on it are
a half-eaten peach and one of our steel shackles. I lay my head on his
shoulder. �I�ll never look at peaches the same way.�

�� Kakarott�s chuckle echoes through his chest.

***

Vegeta: Hey, Kakarott, give me something to remember you by.

Kakarott: OK.

Next chapter: the three-hanky farewell scene. �
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Pure Evil 4: A New Evil