Monster

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Ball Z nor do I own the characters.


Sex. The creator of life and the destruction of innocence. The thing we’ll all do eventually and the thing we’ll all eventually hate ourselves for. Our universal weakness, our earthly obsession, our love and our hate. The one tiny action that can make or break us. We condemn ourselves for it and yet want it all the same.

Tell me, do you want it now?

But I’m getting off the subject aren’t I? You want to know what my story is about. Let’s look at that for a moment.

“I wanted to do something different.” Oh, aren’t those the universal words to condone outrageous behavior. But it’s true. I wanted to free myself. I wanted to write something that authors dream about, but most never do. I wanted to write a story so controversial, so explicit and obscene that I would offend myself in the making of it. And believe me baby, I did a damn good job of it.

This is a story about hatred. Were you expecting love? Tell me you weren’t, for if you are, you may be disappointed. And then, maybe you won’t be. Summarizing a story of this complexity is like trying to summarize your own life into a paragraph. Doesn’t it seem so empty? Doesn’t it seem so contradictory of all we believe in? Don’t you feel like you’re cheating your memories? Well, I do.

I can tell you only this, I’m an explicit author. I write about homosexuality, religion, hatred, violence, gore and extreme sexuality. If you are offended by these, I suggest you try it anyways. Let me free your mind. I want you to see things my way.

With due respect to the creators of Fanfiction.net, I have edited Monster into a strictly R rated story. I have dissected my content because unlike some, I hold a great amount of respect for Xing and the gang of ffnet because if it weren’t for them, I wouldn’t have the opportunity to share this with you. So you will never see any content that is above the R rated level and I stand by that with firm conviction.

If however, you would LIKE to see content above the R rating, (and believe me, its above) feel free to read the unedited, uncensored, original version of Monster at either my site The Kiss of Hell, or at adult-fanfiction.org.

This is not a yaoi. While you see see this as debatable, I do not. I refuse to put this under the romance category, I refuse to label this as yaoi or hetero. Because in my opinion, it is set apart from the ordinary “Kakarot you big luscious stud make sweet, hot, anal love to me.”

This is a story beyond your wildest expectations. Unpredictable and offensive, read at your own risk. I do warn you ahead of time. I have never taken flamers lying down and I don’t intend to. If you wanna fuck with me, do it. I look forward to it.

Seriously. Fuck with me. I dare you.

That being said, yes, I’m arrogant. And yes, I’m a bitch. Yes, I’m fucking vain and yes, I have a God damn good reason for it. You don’t like it? Good, I don’t like you either. So do us both a favor and go fuck yourself.

Love,
Camaro

Monster

I’ve seen this dream before. The mass of bare flesh, tangled limbs, moans and sighs. Even the smell is erotic, flooding my system with that familiar need to release. The familiar building from within, the hot pump of blood and the anxious lust for anyone around you. The need to be touched.

Its as if I’m on a ceiling, gazing down upon bundles and bundles of heaving bodies, the scent of sex so thick, it’s impenetrable. Its like I’m drowning in it. A massive orgy, as it always is. Makes me wonder if this is some sort of fantasy I haven’t yet released from within. This desire to entangle myself with others. Men, women. Just others. I can’t recall ever feeling such infatuation with the idea of sex. But this dream always brings it out.

I feel hot. Dreadfully hot. Like I’m burning away. But then, why do I like it? The cries of pleasure only intensify as the heat does, seeming to emanate from the very source of this passion itself. I can even feel my sweat dripping down my face. Dripping down and falling like rain upon the heated, tumbling bodies.

I want to be with them. This thought makes me quiver, perhaps even in reality. I want to be amongst them, touching, feeling, being tasted. Free. To be kissed on the mouth by someone of my own sex. To be touched by a young woman, a girl even. To see them all around me, being pleased just to place their delicate hands on all the forbidden places I possess. To see their eyes alight with sex as I give it to them over and over again. To lift my head to the sky and gasp in my silent ecstasy. To give. To take. Oh, the feelings overwhelm me.

And then I see the monster. Is it me? Is it you? Is it real or fictional? A sick, perverse creature from the deepest pits of my imagination? Did I create him? Or does he exist, as always, from within me? I feel as if he’s a part of me. Perhaps the part that I deny. The part that lays dormant from within, always there of course, but kept secret from those I love. For their benefit. For mine.

Do we all have these monsters? Or is this beautiful being real?

His face is indescribable. Its beautiful. I know it. Just as you seem to possess every conceivable bit of knowledge in your own dreams. But I can’t see his face. I know its smiling. I know its smiling at me, amongst the pleading hands and tangled legs, thrusting pelvises and pleading vaginas. They want the creature too. But he’s mine. My secret lover.

Large, articulate wings. Black as the shadows in this dark room, expanded around the monster to embrace the souls that entangle it. Entomb it. Tattoos, etching across its tan flesh, so like that of a hu Bu But not. Black tattoos like barbed wire, thick and wicked, tearing across the flesh.

The pull towards it seems magnetic. But then a part of me holds me against the ceiling, keeping myual ual appetite at bay. Every other inch of me wants the monster, against all conscience, against all thought, against all attachments. I want to be whole again. To realize my own potential within its hold. I want the monster to dig its nails into my shoulders and make me do the very things I was raised to detest. I want the forbidden attraction to overwhelm all conscious thought.

I see the light glisten across the horns, large and thick, sharp at the ends like all interpretations of our fictional Devils. I know there are teeth. I don’t see them. But I know the fangs are there. I want them to graze me, to hurt me. I want the pain. The pleasure. Its blinding.

And I almost give in.

That’s when the dream ends. -Goku

I will never threaten, I will never bribe and I will never withhold a chapter for the sake of reviews. I find this extremely dishonorable and refuse to rely on any measly number for my self confidence or my love for this story. It has all been written beforehand, so I will be posting a chapter a week and ask for limited criticism. Reviews are ALWAYS appreciated and are a good driving force, but never the will behind it. My pride gives me the strength to keep going, not someone else’s opinion.

Love,

Camaro