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His Sister The Keeper	By : TimedWatcher Category: Dragon Ball Z > Het - Male/Female Views: 913 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Ball Z nor the characters from it I do not make any money from the writing of this story

Chapter List
- 6
- 7
He clutched his arm, his teeth gritting at the memory. If he slept on it poorly, he could still feel it.
There was still a lot of pain everywhere...
What she did... what she did that day... how the HELL was he taken in by her? Why was he even considering becoming her... love... slave... or whatever the fuck he was doing.
A nice meal!?
Was he really that cheap!?
Although he had to admit, she had changed.
The old 18 would have probably raped Videl.
He almost started cackling to himself, but nobody was around to hear it, so he just kept it to a toothy smile and exhale.
He didn't want to seem crazy.
But now, instead of bad memories laced with negative thoughts, it was pure nostalgia from here on out.
Gosh, don't be so hard on them, Trunks, they're just kids.
This was a long time coming. The return of the prodigal son.
Hey sleepyhead, what are you doing up so late?
Her ditzy accent finally re-emerged as an echo, having been pushed back deep into the recesses.
Miss Bulma, Miss Bulma! I had a nightmare!
He never thought he'd hear her again.
Is that so? Well hop on up and tell ol' Bulma all about it.
She sometimes let him watch her work. The memory of which burned in his head as much as the sound of the burning phosphorus hum of her heavy looking monitor. Blue light cascaded over her face with readouts and schematics that didn't make a lick of sense to him when he was a kid. A lot of it still eluded him now. Even when she wasn't taking notes, she had a pen nearby to play with. Twirling it or resting it in her mouth, swaying in place on her swivel chair, holding it firm to her lip so it wouldn't fall away.
For awhile, he didn't know why he wished he had been that pen, but as he got older, he quite clearly understood.
He had no idea how she did it, always finding time for him. For them -- but he knew he was different.
Don't tell anyone, but you're my favorite.
I-I won't, Miss Bulma! I promise!
The Capsule Corp bubble dome. Facing forward from where he was standing, crackling holes had blown through the roof. It's many windows on all three levels fractured.
It was bigger than he remembered.
Then again, he only ever saw it once before, scurrying in a sea of likeminded rats.
Just know you can always talk to me about anything.
W-w-well there is this girl...
OoOoOh, who is it?
He always knew she wasn't his real mom, but that didn't stop him from calling her as such.
Even those who were super formal did.
She was more than a mom.
He always knew she was more than just his mother, literally and otherwise, while alone in his bunkbed. Maybe that was a wrong thing to think. Probably a lot of the other boys thought the same thing -- but for him, he was the one that would make Bulma theirs.
The gravity training room should be legendary in his mind after Trunks told him about what his father and Goku had done in places like this -- but for him and the rest, it was just the only sanctuary they had.
*TNK, TOC, TNK*
451g, that level would have killed him, but he could hear the unsturdy grinding of metal below, as the elevator made itself known. Stepping onto it, the weight of the world stopped existing for him. Nothing was wrong anymore. He fell, drained, the back of his hand on his forehead. "Oh, god." As he sunk below, it was the first bit of freedom he truly felt from 18. He could do things like scratch himself or belch without drawing her ire. After all, he was... home. The only place he had. The only place he ever had...
He looked about ready to announce that he had arrived. That somebody was here waiting to see him.
Instead of artificial sun, it was darkness that consumed nearly everything.
He understood that with everyone gone, there was no point in keeping the lights on. She typically worked long hours into the night, using her headset with the flashlights on both sides. Despite her age, she always looked cute doing that, somehow getting hotter as the years rolled on. He passed by devices that looked like they hadn't been touched in months, dust and even webs accumulating over them. Worry set in. Was she okay? Did she give up? 'Oh god, I'm sorry Bulma! I should have hurried back sooner!'
He picked up speed, arms slicing the air, not even slowing to check out his old haunt. The world seemed quiet as he chased his one goal, while empty voids of former living spaces scanned by his periphery.
It swept over him like a wave. Taking the brunt of it, he barely held on.
Framed in an indigo room, the shadows casting purple over the bedspread and shelves, her naked pale body almost luminescent.
Bulma was hunched over in front of some ugly looking pig man.
Mouth firmly wrapped around the strange red coil with it's even stranger taper, completely out of proportion with his height, they vacuumed in, her thick lips narrower than before, tugging it with drags of her angled down head and thin neck.
His eyes kept wandering, hoping to anesthetize himself by turning to her porcelain globes, the perfection and heft, the way they slightly overhung several inches away and above her thighs, annoyingly big enough to obscure her pussy lips from view, and as she worked his stiffness with her mouth, her large ass was rising and falling, left then right, right then left; an appealing wiggle while stuffing her face greedily on the spring shaped penis like she hadn't eaten in days.
But he kept getting drawn to their... connection.
Bulma seemed beyond enthused. She practically had hearts in her eyes as they shimmered wet. "HMMPH! MMHPH!" The way she breathed through her nose was almost noisier than the heavyset humanoid, coming out in quicker fervent bursts, her saliva running down her chin, splattering between her fat mammaries. Bulma went a little too far, wincing tears, but as soon as they parted, her expression was pure joy. "Mmmwaah~, haah..." She sniffed while staring into the moistened tip longingly, tonguing the air teasingly with it just out of reach. Bulma sucked on her teeth with a slurpiness, capturing up excess drool; a noise he thought he never would've heard from the scientist, thinking about the way she would daintily eat breakfast, lunch and dinner.
Bulma looked up to the pig, and like they had done it before...
God... they had done it before...
She did most of the work, moving on all fours and falling onto her back for him. She presented her large and hairy blue pussy mound to the pig. Dripping with lust both orally and from her nethers, he slipped into her with ease.
He grimaced a horrible ugliness, as a searing heat boiled in his eyes, unable to pull himself away from the petrifying image.
Her large breasts flopped and spun, almost with a slosh to their weightiness as they clattered together. The pleasure was too great for her, as she couldn't help but make faces of excited, uncaring pleasure. She had no decency. None of the demure qualities he thought she had when he saw her for all those years. She was his mother. She was supposed to be his lover.
Not a pig's whore.
Her thick thighs and slim legs shot up into the air like a V, bouncing as she was railed, a wedged sandal hanging off one foot, clinging for dear life on a crooked big toe. Her dangling feet curled. "OOOoooOOOh Ooolong! Fuckme fuckme fuckme fuuuuuuck meeeee!"
She... she never swore in his life. Even when she hit her thumb with a hammer... she said sugar. Sugar! Now she cast out expletives without care or concern.
"Ya hold on, babe!" He oinked back.
That was supposed to be him saying that...
This was supposed to be his fantasy...
Despite sounding like he was struggling to breathe, he had total command of Bulma's body, drilling into her with landing meaty plaps. Bulma lacked any and all restraint, throwing her arms around him, sinking them into his fat folds, pulling him into herself, as if to make sure she got all of it. "Omigawd, so deep..." She muttered ecstasy filled nothings while swabbing her claws up and down his back. Then with the dexterity of a spider, she slung the sandal with a bang against the wall, before her legs interlocked around him.
With him now cradled in her bountiful chest, his newborn like hands palmed into her erect nipples, which didn't even come close to covering her stretched out areolas, but his fondling gave way to his teeth; sinking them into the sensitive looking bright pink of her titty flesh, which the pint sized porker gnawed upon, unable to decide which was his favorite, suckling upon one, and then going back to the other, leaving a ring of tooth marks on both. The back of her thumb met her lip, her fist against her cheek, her eyes tightly shut. "NnnNNnnGUAWD!" Each of his vicious bruising bites only made her writhe and roll around on the bed.
Oolong returned to his pounding, which was her nearly strong enough and loud enough with the skin to skin smacking to send her over the edge, or at least her neck.
Her head was upside down, facing towards him, her eyes half open while in the throes of passion. It was like she could see him, but didn't say anything, his importance in her world at a flat zero. Her red painted lips pressed shut and then opened into an enthusiastic O with every thrust from the pigman. "Haah, aaah!" Her cyan colored hair was thrown wildly, yet still matted to her forehead from the shining sheen of sweat that covered her body before even that wasn't enough, as when Oolong splashed down onto her, the curtain of short cut teal hair over her forehead began to get rocked out of place. "FiiiIIiiiLllLLL mEeEeeeeE UuuuPPppp! MaaaAaaaAKkKKe meeEeeeEE pReGnaaaaant!" She caterwauled with wild eyes as the pigman blew exhaust from his nostrils, a hungriness as her pink tongue flapped over the corner of her lip before rolling over her glossy red lips, making them even shinier.
He wanted so badly to fuck that face she was making
"Here I cum, Bulma!" His gruff voice grunted, his ugly face shifting, his cinching forehead covered in a greasiness like they had been at it for hours.
Bulma wasn't content with just laying back, as her neck flung up. Forehead to forehead, his pignose flattened her little prim and proper one, their lurid tongues dancing into eachother's mouths; the beast overtaking a beauty. "Oh yes! Oh yes! Fill me up you nasty hog!" Bulma moaned and groaned at the hot feeling, gnashing her teeth before she orgasmed with a yowl. "YEEEEES!" The way she squealed with delight... it was like the death of her son and her husband didn't matter.
He didn't matter...
The need to vomit travelled almost quicker than his hand, as he barely managed to cover his mouth in time, though he wasn't sure if he cared about being caught in that moment.
Throbbing and glistening, he retracted himself from Bulma's pussy, though snaking it out of her seemed to get him ready for round two while Bulma was still panting. "How 'bout I fuck ya up the ash naow?" He wryly asked, already knowing the answer on the sly.
That broke him from the spell.
Even as he tried to escape it while covering his ears, he could still hear her wails of pleasure. "OooOoo, you gross little piggy!"
Back on the surface, the elevator went silent and howling winds took over.
He nearly collapsed into the console, gasping and hyperventilating, staring into the numberpad, not believing what he had seen.
"Bulma wouldn't fuck a pig!" His fists smashed through the controls, leaving ruptured wounds in the plastic and metal interface.
=============
He was in a rush to get back, not because he was excited or overwhelmed with emotions for 18, but because...
She was the only one left.
Why oh why did he try to find answers to questions he knew he couldn't handle?
If he still had a heart, it would be a grim realization that the only person that cared about him was a psycho machine that barely showed any emotions.
If he had a heart...
Would she kill him for his discretion? Or would she make him pay with something important of his, like a foot? Yet he wasn't worried. He felt free of responsibilities now... he was Eighteen's... and that was his lot in life.
He hid behind a tree, still being hit by the violent wet gusts of nature.
He knew where he lived. He knew! Goddammit.
"Eighteen!" His throat tearing shout of desperation was utterly drowned out by the thundering kakooms from the sky. Visibility was hell, the rain acted like tiny bullets to the face. The grey skies extended out beyond anything he could see. "Oh god..." He smacked his hand against his face, the water so quickly collecting in his palm would have been refereshing if he wasn't so wet and cold already.
He looked down to the soggy wet brush, thinking he saw something. A familiarity with where he was. That notion, along with his foot, sunk into some kind of pit that instantly filled his shoe with water, and tripped him into a fall.
He collapsed.
Videl was right. He should have explored the island more when he had the chance.
'I'm so sorry, Videl. I wish I had told you what Eighteen was... you could have run... we could have...'
"Please... 18..." His wallowing pathetic cries for help kept going unanswered.
He realised then that nobody loved or cared about him.
Bulma wasn't inventing a way to stop the Androids. Videl was gone. All the girls he trained with were dead. 18 would probably replace him with another plug socket if she hadn't already.
And this was it. He was gonna die out here shivering in the cold -- never knowing his real parents or having the kind of pre-androids life he had always dreamed of. The one he truly believed he was capable of achieving... but that was such a lie. His fists collected energy into a ball at his side, his last desperate attempt to alert 18... but something changed. For a brief moment through the canopy of shaking leafs, light entered him through a crease in the clouds, a break in the misery, before closing up again, like a stitched wound.
Then it all clicked in his brain, like he had been reprogrammed. His hands relented, dissipating the power.
Things started to make a lot more sense.
Like he had unlocked some hidden mental acuity, he didn't even blink from the flecks of rainwater assaulting him anymore, moving like a man possessed with a shuffling gimp. He had a new mission in mind.
Returning to the scene of the crime, when he had first fully healed, his poorly thought out escape plan.
The smell of salt started to waft up, even under the mask of neutral rain water.
The dark skyline wasn't what he was interested in, but instead, the black ocean floor that more and more entered his view from afar. Raging waters crashed, glancing off, before being swallowed up into the depths, then rising again. A friendly low rumbling from above quickly turned into a harsh and frightful constricting snap that even dragged him from his zombie like state to stare at it a moment, seeing the white hot flickering underneath the layer.
Everything around him was all anger.
And maybe that was what he was supposed to be feeling.
At himself.
At 18.
At Bulma.
Even Videl... for being that brief bit of light in all the darkness...
Yet she ruined it, coming into the picture. His moment all to himself to recontextualize his life. She called his name before setting down, cutting him off from his path. It looked like she had been out for awhile, because her constrained tits sagged down with constant streams into her cleavage, the rest of her clothing just as soggy, particularly her jean shorts which almost acted like an umbrella for her black leggings. "I was looking everywhere for you."
'You liar' The words spoke big and red inside his head.
He yelled it out.
It felt like he was gonna tear his throat.
Why couldn't 18 sense where he was? He needed her help -- and now his mind was made up.
She said his name again, trying to be softer this time. "What's this about?" Her head adjusted slightly with concern, or as close to what she could muster. She rushed over to him. "Your foot..."
"I tripped in the rain..." He pushed on her, somehow bypassing her, his back towards the cliffside, as he backpedalled like a rat cornered by a cat. "Besides, wha-wha-what do you care? Huh!?" He cleared a few droplets from his lip, but they returned just as fast. "I certainly don't anymore! Everything I cherish or love is dead to me." He pointed accusingly. "Not that you'd ever understand! You can't love anything you fucking monster!" Something felt wrong. Eighteen would have normally ripped him in two, or at least yelled right back. She would have done something. Still, that let him finally open up.
His lip curled into a soured grimace of righteousness. "I finally saw what you were doing up close. How can you live with yourself? I've been telling myself all this time that 'it can't be that bad'. 'She's the only one left, things must be getting better.' Oh-ho-ho-ho... how fucking wrong I was." He beat his chest, the soaking he had undergone producing an intense sound effect. "And I'm partially responsible for all that! By not doing something about it, I've... I've... God! 18! What's wrong with you!?" He looked to her for an answer, but she had none. He even darted his face forwards and back, which he expected to get a response out of her, but her face was still blank; her eyelids a bit more sliced than usual.
"I... I came out here to look for you..." She looked away with haste, then tried her best to look him in the eyes, but failed. "Because I-" It seemed like she wanted to say something else, stumbling mid sentence. "... missed you..." Something about it felt so stiff. So inhuman -- that it rubbed his nerves raw. Imagining the way Bulma would've said it made him want to cry.
Hey little guy, I missed you sooooooo much!
"That's a funny way of showing it! If you 'miss' someone, you tell them how much you mean to them. You whisper things are gonna be okay. You take care of them. You don't rape them!" Eighteen stared blankly through him, a lingering that made him nervous.
Eighteen's chin dipped. "You're right... but do you really think I'm the kind of person to say those things?" She threw some of her noodley wet golden hairs back, as she rested a hand on her hip. "I have a propensity to kill in my programming. How else do you expect me to act about someone I care about?" She leaned back into a sneer, that she forced off her face. "How do you think I felt knowing you slept with Videl?"
"Happy!" He threw up a clawed fist that shook violently. "You should have been happy I was sleeping with a normal girl and living a normal life for once!"
Android 18 did something he had never seen her do:
She slouched.
"Why wasn't I allowed to live a normal life?"
"Hahaha --" His finger threw up in a stabbing point. "Don't you fucking dare you murderer. Think about everything -- everything you've fucking done." He never thought he'd have to go to bat for people. To explain why they weren't worth exterminating. It just seemed implicit.
He wasn't some human lover, even though he was one. There were some real jerks and no good scoundrels - especially in the world the Anrdoids created.
But she fucking killed children.
"You don't care about humans? You don't care about me." He could feel himself lose his breath, his heartbeat spiking while calling out 18 for her BS.
"You don't understand..." She pressed her fingers into her forehead, a frustration beneath shut eyes. "It's not that simple... the way I analyze things..." Her eyes opened again with a wilted look to them, hoping for understanding, the rain falling off her eyelashes like dewdrops. "Everything is an enemy." She began to rub her arm in the long sleeved shirt that drooped off kilter. "And you... I've worked so hard to mitigate the routine and change it-GAWD" She threw up a hand, her bare arm exposed for a second as she tightened a fist. "Why am I wasting time explaining myself to you!?" She then took a deep breath, a bit more confident looking and sounding than before. "Yesterday, I could have killed you - I WOULD'VE - but I didn't."
He nearly rolled the eyes out of his head. "Oh so mercy, is your greatest gift to me -- preventing me from living a normal fucking life with your brother and you terrorizing the fucking world for my whole existence -- oh, well, that's just the past, right?" He could feel his chest thump faster and faster, and a sudden windchill sent him into a forced gesticulation, his teeth chattering.
Eighteen was quick to attack him on that front. "You're delirious -- you need warmth and food." She stepped forward, which caused him to step back, halting her progress. "I'll make you happy." He nearly started laughing. 18 seemed like she could only speak in threats. "Let me take you home."
Home...
Home was with Bulma.
Even if it was all true and he even believed her -- that didn't absolve her of everything she had done.
He was too angry to even notice the rain had started to stop.
He sounded as robotic as she did at her worst, doing a 180 on his madness just a moment ago. "Not until you say it."
Her confidence shattered, eyes wide. "S-s-say what?"
"You know." His arms flew out. "Why would you go through all that effort? Revenge? You really expect me to still believe that?" This was possibly the stupidest thing he would ever do. "Because if you don't-" His breathing got shaky and nervous as he edged himself against the cliffside. He prepared his next statement carefully because it could be his last, but there was flem in his throat that he had to clear. "And I'm just some meatpuppet for you to abuse... then I don't see why I should keep on living this worthless lifestyle..." He snorted. "So let me give you a hand on the analysis-" From behind his back, he produced an energy ball that he hucked with ferocity at her, which sent him over, the white streak containing his reserves, and there was no possible last minute chances for regret where he could save himself by flying up and away.
Arms thrown to his sides, he cast himself off. Only as he jackknifed did he realise what he had done. He went limp, deadweighting himself backwards, but then the worst happened: he lost his sense of control, twisting through the air like he weighed nothing. He just hoped to land with his back towards the sky.
The scariest second of his life followed, as winds whipped against his face with sheer violence that he was sure the skin on his skull was gonna tear off before he even hit one of those rocks. Near deafening, his hair was sent flying everywhere.
But he didn't crash land, all momentum ceased instead.
"AAAH! AAAAH! Aaaahh... haaaah..." At first it was total fear, then total confusion, the rush and adrenaline had his brain scrambled and he could hardly recognize what was going on. He wanted to crawl off whatever had him, but he was just held in place, restrained, and for the first time in a long time... he was okay with that.
Android 18 didn't say anything, cradling him. She then pressed her hand to his face, staring at him red faced, as if she was ashamed about something. "I'm sorry, okay? Does that work for you?"
Now it felt like he could make demands. "A little. What else?"
"... you idiot..." She swallowed. "Fine. I love you, okay?" Then she kissed him.
More than just embracing her to keep himself from falling, he partook in the kiss because he wanted to. 18 wasn't the conventional girl, but... he had grown to like her - balls and all.
They touched ground together, her arms wrapped around his middle to make sure his landing was safe. When she let him go, he marched forward, feeling high, his fists tight at his sides as he pumped them. Like a whole new chapter of his life... their lives, had opened up. He turned, expecting to see 18 there.
She wasn't.
He looked up, and she was about to take off like usual. "Wait! Eighteen! Where are you going!?"
Floating above, 18 looked past her hands which were clasped and her angled feet which pointed downward, weightlessly. "I care about you - I don't care about humans." She shouted at him, before her head tilted forward, and then she flew off like a bolt.
Part of him wanted to try and stop her, but he knew in his heart she wasn't ready for that kind of thing just yet. His walk back alone to their home was different now. Rays of light hit him, and he happily ignored them. He felt an odd kinship with the trees, as they reached up above him, protecting him from the sun.
He walked past the fork in the road where he and Videl spent the night.
He looked up to the side of a cliff, the angle of it turning his direction, seeing the hole he had left behind when he first got here.
In an empty sprawl of lawn was her beach chair, completely blown over, her sunglasses in the still wet blades of grass.
He knelt down, picking them up.
In his hands, he tried to look through them.
With them now over his eyes, he grinned.
Maybe one day, he would change her mind.
- 6
- 7
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His Sister The Keeper