Desecration: Alternate | By : sefiru Category: Dragon Ball Z > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 5927 -:- 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. |
Desecration:
Alternate Epilogue Arc
Disclaimer: O hai mr toriyama, i borrow saiyans kthnx.
Pairings: Vegeta x Goku
Warnings: NC-17: BDSM, violence, language, yaoi, M/M
Flavor of the week: Exhibitionism, Public sex
Hello, everyone! I’m back from my moving break (the trip
involved 2 trains, 2 airplanes, a taxi and 120 pounds of luggage; my suitcase
handle broke). Starting today, weekly updates will continue, alternating
between DBZ and my new YuYu Hakusho
story starting next week. Please check it out. Updates will still be on Fridays
but will appear later than they used to because time zones are a beyotch.
Thank you to all the people who posted reviews supporting my
writing (oh, and Anon: bite me.) Basically everyone
said that I’d done a great job writing a BDSM relationship, and I really appreciate
it; I think there’s not enough of it around, which is why I write it. As to why
I *can* write it, (personal info here) I’m more than a bit of a sub in RL,
though I’ve never been in a relationship. But there it is: I know the
headspace, I understand how these things work, (I often go into subspace while
I’m writing this stuff, which can be kinda weird),
and above all I have “gaydar” for what makes a good
top. (what would the word for that be anyway?) Anyway,
now that you know my secret ingredient, on with the story!
In this chapter: Prince and slave attend a party.
***
Epilogue 1: leather looks good
***
Vegeta purred
contentedly as his slave kneaded the muscles on his back. He’d been surprised
when the massage table appeared in their playroom one day, and even more
surprised that Kakarott knew what to do with it, but he could definitely see
its merits. It shouldn’t have been too shocking; Kakarott was a hopeless
sensualist and he was fast corrupting Vegeta to the same. Massage and grooming,
fine wine and fine food, sparring and hot, wild sex … his fingers hit a tense
spot and Vegeta hissed in reflex. Immediately the velvet tail rubbed over the
skin to sooth it. “Are you ok, my prince?”
“Just keep
going.”
“Yes, my
prince.”
“Where do you
get this stuff, anyway? I know I’m not paying for it.”
“Bulma gives me money.”
“Hn?” Not the woman’s style at
all. Material goods, yes, but not cash.
“I don’t really
get it, but a while ago she gave me some papers she called stocks, and now
every couple of months I get a check from Capsule Corp.”
“Ah. I see.”
This was possibly the best feeling – of the relaxed sort – that Vegeta had ever
experienced. His whole body glowed with pleasure, and he didn’t have to lift a
finger; it would be inconceivable if not for the trust he had in his slave.
Kakarott’s hands
had slowed in their rhythm. “You have something on your mind, slave.”
“Yes, my prince.
Uh, I got a call from Master Roshi today. He’s
holding a party, a leather party, and, uh,”
“You want to
attend.”
“I want to go
with you. As your slave. That should shut them up,” he
finished half under his breath.
“Are they still
complaining about our relationship?” Vegeta rolled over and sat up; Kakarott
immediately dropped to the floor beside the massage table.
“Well, Krillin is. The others just don’t believe me.”
“I should have
flattened him the first time.”
“Eh, he’s easy to
handle.” Kakarott made his patented wide-eyed puppy look. “But, Krillin, don’t
you want me to be happy?”
Vegeta snorted. A
leather party; he rather liked the idea. To parade his slave
in front of all their so-called friends. Rub their noses in the fact
that their notions of “purity” were less than absolute laws of the universe.
Perhaps, take Kakarott in full view of them. Ha, just when he was trying to
think of a challenge for his slave, too. He gestured to his hardening cock. “As
you can see, I approve of this idea. Take care of this for me, slave.”
“Yes, my prince.”
Kakarott licked his lips and leaned in.
***
Kamesennin nearly passed out when he opened his door to
admit them to his party; that was about the reaction Vegeta was aiming for. He,
the master, was decked out in black pants as tight as his everyday spandex, a
matching sleeveless zipper top – unzipped – and a white leather belt, as well
as his usual boots and gauntlets. And Kakarott – well, he had on black leather
shorts with a line of steel studs down the front seam and the zipper at the
back, under his tail. And leather cuffs at his wrists and ankles. And his
collar, with a leash attached. And a chest harness of straps and steel rings,
one of which was in the exact center of his chest, and two more exactly framed
his nipples. And to complete the ensemble, numerous leather bands were buckled
along his tail. He knelt at his prince’s feet, head up and eyes sparkling at
the drool-worthy display he was putting on.
Vegeta marched
into the house with Kakarott following him on all fours. He surveyed the gathering:
just about all the Z team was there, from Krillin
looking uncomfortable in PVC jeans to Yamcha in a set
of assless chaps, to Bulma
in a corset and thigh-high boots. But they all stared as the Saiyan pair came in. Vegeta went straight for the biggest
chair in the room, plucking Chaotzu out of it. On the
way he also grabbed a cushion from behind Tien’s
back.
“Hey, I was using
that.”
“I need it more
than you do, chrome dome.” Specifically, to keep Kakarott
from getting cramped knees from kneeling on a hardwood floor all night. His
slave wasn’t much use to him if he wasn’t flexible … He dropped the cushion
beside the chair and took his seat; Kakarott arranged himself at his feet, and
he buried his fingers in the long black spikes. The gesture looked casual, but
everyone watching caught the message of high favor it implied. The Prince of
All Saiyans just didn’t touch people – except for
one. Bulma looked rather cross about that.
After they all
got their eyeful, he unclipped his slave’s leash. “Get me a drink, then you can
go socialize for a while.” Kakarott promptly obeyed, and Vegeta was left to sip
his wine and observe the party.
Kakarott had
shaped up well from the whiny annoyance Vegeta had first met. He spoke to his
friends in a low, even tone – less squeaky now that he wasn’t half shouting – sometimes with a
hint of purr that made Vegeta’s tail fur ruffle. Kakarott’s voice was his best
feature; his silky tail was a close second, dancing behind him to emphasize a
word or show emotion. His conformation was near perfect, broad shoulders,
narrow hips and long, straight legs. A treat for the eyes and
the ears. Vegeta smirked as he swirled his glass. Before he’d taken a
hand, this beauty had been eclipsed by Kakarott’s hyperactive behavior in his
desperation to be likeable. That was gone; he didn’t need his friends’ approval
in this or in any matter hereafter, and when he was standing still, his natural
grace came through. All thanks to Vegeta’s attention.
Vegeta frowned
as he realized he was hard and the party had only just started. He would have
no problem taking Kakarott right here and now – except that all of the Z
fighters, including the wrinkly pervert, would be ogling him. He preferred to
watch, not be watched.
He flicked his
fingers languidly and Kakarott returned immediately to his side. “Slave, bring
me a plate and make one up for yourself.”
“Yes, my
prince.” His slave surveyed the buffet with expert concentration, piled food
onto two plates and brought them back to Vegeta’s seat. For this occasion
Vegeta had given him permission to eat using his hands, rather than right off
the floor as usual – no need to shock the humans too much; they were not nearly
as amusing as they thought they were. Kakarott was taking full advantage of it.
Lick along the juice-coated fingers; suck on their food-stained tips; swirl at
the knuckles where drops of sauce pooled. Vegeta growled under his breath.
There were far better places for Kakarott to use his mouth than on his own fingers.
“Kakarott,” he
murmured, too soft for human hearing. “I will have you. Right here, right now.”
His slave grinned
up at him. “I knew you would.”
“Take these plates
away, and wash your hands.” He stood from his chair, looking over the gathering.
Most of the Z team had finished eating and were back at their inane chatter,
totally unsuspecting. He smirked. When Kakarott returned, he seized his slave
by the hair before he had a chance to kneel and shoved him down on the arm of
the chair. Vegeta’s lips came down on his neck, hitting all the spots he knew
would make the other Saiyan squeal. His fingers found
Kakarott’s nipples and dug nails into them to bring that edge of pain that both
of them enjoyed. Kakarott bucked back against his hips.
The sudden first
movement had caught the other guests’ attention, and now they stared at the Saiyans with various flavors of stunned, incredulous, and
shocked. They must be imagining what he was going to do, but at the same time
didn’t believe he was really going to do it. Well, they were about to see for
themselves. He pulled his slave’s tail up with one hand, and opened Kakarott’s
zipper with the other, revealing a hole already stretched and slick. Excellent. Moving faster than the eye could catch, he opened his own pants and sank into Kakarott’s
heat.
Every hair on
his tail stood on end; he fought for self-control. The dumbfounded silence
around him barely registered. Then Kakarott trembled under him, and Vegeta
realized he was laughing. “Look at Master Roshi,” he
whispered. Vegeta looked: the withered human was out cold on the floor, a
stream of blood running from his nose. He snorted.
“His loss.” He rode his slave hard this time, slamming him
into the chair’s arm at every thrust. The furniture creaked threateningly but
held; Kakarott tucked himself deeper to get a better angle of penetration.
Vegeta knew that his slave sported a blush of slight embarrassment, but the
noises he was making showed how much he enjoyed his master’s attention. He stroked
the silky tail in time with his thrusts, making Kakarott writhe. It was
perfect. Let these self-righteous fools watch them pleasure each other and see
what their “pure hearted” champion was really made of. So a little sex made him
dirty, did it? His devotion was a thing to look down on? His heart had taken
Vegeta’s worst and stayed clean; it took his best and made it better. Let them
sneer at that, if they dared.
He wanted his
slave to come with him inside; a difficult feat, considering the elaborate cock
ring Kakarott was strapped into, but possible with the right stimulation. He
shot a tiny bolt of ki from his cock right into
Kakarott’s prostate. The scream that followed rattled the walls and sank into
Vegeta’s bones; Kakarott’s flesh rippled around his cock and pulled his seed
out of him. Panting in unison, they lay still for a moment before Vegeta pulled
out and closed their respective zippers. Scents of arousal not their own wafted
around them; they each looked around. No less than two-thirds of the audience –
including a few extremely manly men – displayed some sign of interest. Vegeta
smirked as he pulled Kakarott upright.
“Tomorrow we
discuss the plan,” he whispered. Kakarott nodded slightly.
They didn’t stay
long after that; Vegeta wanted a bath, and his slave could probably use one as
well. Kamesennin came to just in time to see them IT
away.
***
Poor Kamesennin, he can’t handle a
pair of horny Saiyans in his parlor.
Next chapter: All I’ll say is, if you already think I’ve
gone too far, don’t read further. I’m serious.
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