I\'m Only A Woman
folder
Dragon Ball Z › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
1
Views:
893
Reviews:
2
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Dragon Ball Z › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
1
Views:
893
Reviews:
2
Recommended:
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.
I'm Only A Woman
Hi, everyone! I love stories where an original character meets the DBZ gang, so I decided to write one myself! Tell me what you think, k?
Warnings:
LEMON, LIME, NC-17, HET—YOU KNOW WHAT I’M SAYING. OH…AND YOUR OCCASIONAL FLUFF EVERY NOW AND THEN. NO OOC IN HERE. V/OC. BULMA AND VEGETA AREN’T EXACTLY TOGETHER, BUT THEN AGAIN THEY ARE…YOU’LL SEE WHAT I MEAN…
Setting:
Starts before the cell games while Cell is still gathering energy from the bodies of humans. Will lead later on into his absorption of 17 and 18.
Summary:
Connie Knowles is your average California gal who lives a normal life. But after a too-close-for-comfort encounter with Cell himself, her whole life is changed when her rescuer comes along! But wait a minute…the one she loves is…a father?!
I’m Only A Woman
Chapter 1
“Five, six, seven, eight!” Her fingers snapped in accordance to the rhythm of the song and she watched, disappointed, as the movements she had been teaching her students for three weeks straight were sloppy, unpracticed and completely unready for this next weeks coming up dance recital. After she could take no more of this horrid form of destructive art, she called a halt to their movements. “None of you have been practicing, that much is evident.” She sternly placed her hands on a slim waist, tapping her foot angrily as her students hung their heads in shame.
“Miss Nowles,” Maria, one of her younger students, spoke up hesitantly, “we’re just nervous.”
She frowned at the small reply. “Nervousness is no excuse; do you think the school representatives watching your performance at next weeks recital will care that you’re nervous? They /know/ you’re going to be nervous, but what you have to do is prove to them that you can over/come/ your nervousness.” She sighed; looking at the faces with eyes which refused to look my way. “Guys,” she complained, whiningly, “there’s only six of you, and I know that we don’t live in the nicest of neighborhoods, but you can all go on to do great things if you /practice./ C’mon, what’s the motto?”
With large sighs her class chorused, “Practice makes perfect.”
Smiling a bit, “That’s right. Practice /does/ make perfect. And you guys will /be/ perfect. Right?” Her little group mumbled some incoherent words but nodded their little heads. “Right. Now, let’s take it from the top.” She stopped the music and rewound it, starting the song from the beginning.
“Five, six, seven, eight…!”
~*~*~
Her apartment greeted her with the welcome warmth of a promising spring. Flopping down onto her couch, she checked my messages.
1st message:
~Connie, dear, it’s your mother. I just wanted to say hello and how have you been? You haven’t returned my call yet, which makes me wonder if you’ve even thought about the last thing I asked you. Do you remember? I asked you if you’d gotten a real job yet. No, Con, teaching dance classes for free is not a real job, so don’t start arguing with me again. Since you haven’t returned my call, it probably means you’ve not heeded my advice, forcing me to turn drastic. ~
‘Here it comes.’ Connie thought, grimly.
~I’ve applied you to Sun Shack. It’s a nice, respectable place to make a bit of starter money, and it was the only place hiring. You really missed out on your chance at a good job this year, but next year we’re going to go job searching together so that this kind of thing doesn’t happen anymore. Oh, and by the way, have you settled down with a nice young man yet? If you’re searching, the fish dock is a good place to start. It’s--~
“Where you met my father, I /know/.” Connie growled at the small machine, deleting the message. ‘She went and applied me at Sun Shack! At a stupid gift shop! What? Does she think I can’t get a real job on my own? This makes me so sick!’ “It really does!” She voiced the last of her thoughts with an outraged howl and pushed herself of the couch.
“I’m going to need a nice, hot shower if I want to check the last of my messages with some sanity left in me.” She huffed angrily, stomping into her room.
Once inside the naturally lit room, the young woman stripped of her clothes and, with the nudity only a woman can be proud of, walked into her bathroom, turning the shower to a drizzle… a /hot/ drizzle.
The hot beads of pelting water greeted her tensed back with welcomed relaxation, and she leaned her head back in the water, hair becoming drenched, water running down the length of her t, pr, practiced body. “Now /this/ is what /all/ dancers should come home to.” She mumbled, flinging her hair over one shoulder and letting her neck receive a full onslaught of pleasure.
Only one thing was missing in this heavenly little scene.
A man.
Connie turned the water off, refreshed, and stepped out of her heated shower house in a fluffy white robe, hair plastered to her tanned face.
She sighed.
In all of California, she had never once found a suitable man to suit her needs, and the few guys she actually /had/ dated had been morons who lived by their hormones and hung off of her every word like the dogs they were.
Rick had been different, though. Rick had babied her, loved her, treated her like the independent woman she really was, and she had loved him, spent all of her time with him—hell, they were even engaged… until she found him with another woman.
The events that had followed had been certainly interesting. First, the connecting of her fist to her fiancé’s fling’s face, then to her fiancé’s. Second the screaming of dirty words in English, then French and finally Spanish. And third, the grand exit she had made… tears, snuffling and all.
Oh, and there /was/ that little ritual she had performed with gasoline, a match, and all of Rick’s things—except that lovely little red corvette she treasured—that had been the finale; but she was over him now.
In fact, she was over the whole damned male species.
Shaking herself out of her memories, Connie took a comb to her hair and began running it through the golden-red tresses that fell down her back in loose, wet curls. Bright emerald eyes began to get watery with sleepiness, and she found herself falling asleep with the comb still tucked into her hair.
::::::::::
Connie rolled over and woke to a pricking pain in her head, running her hands through her hair to find its violator. Damn comb.
Her eyes took in the darkness of her room, and she figured she had been sleep for some time. Shrugging out of the robe that concealed her nudity, Connie began to dress, choosing an oversized gray sweat shirt and tight black running pants—she had cut them so they stopped at her knees now—for her nightly jog around the neighborhood. The moon was full, the night slightly colder than it had been that morning—perfect for jogging. Besides, who could pass up an opportunity to stare into the Heavens just looking at a clear sky full of stars and a bright moon? Not her.
She slipped on her Nike running shoes after the ankle sweat socks and gathered her damp hair in a neat, runner’s ponytail.
With her apartment key in one fist, she left her home, locking it, to begin the run that would stretch out her limbs. She wasn’t prepared for what she saw next.
‘Oh, my God, help me.’ This couldn’t be real. It couldn’t!
“Arghh…!!!”
It was real! The man’s dyingeamseams of agony embedded themselves into her brain, temporarily rendering her paralyzed in fear. She took on the scene before her with a new, heated fear.
A man in green—well, obviously he couldn’t have been a man due to the fact that his…er… tail was stuck into another man—seemed to be sucking the life out of one of her neighbors through his back with a very long, strong-looking tail.
“Help me! Sweet Jesus, someone help meeeeee!!”
Connie let out a cry and in mere seconds found herself inside her apartment, door locked, with her back pressed against it. She heard a rather loud, final scream and an even louder laugh. “Oh, dear God, please, help me…” Her heartbeat ran at least five times the normal rate, and her eyes were probably as large as saucers.
She had to get out of there.
Whatever that thing was, it certainly seemed powerful enough to crush her with its pinkie finger, and Connie found herself bolting through her apartment to get to the back door, her safety…
But it wasn’t meant to be.
Behind her, she could hear the front door being blown off its hinges as a deep, throaty laugh chilled her apartment and made her freeze. She was sure anyone in the neighborhood could hear how hard she was breathing, fighting not to cry. She, instead, dove into her room and slammed the door shut, locking it.
‘Damn it!’ The tears flowed freely as she ran into her bathroom, locking that door also, and hid under the counter of the bathroom sink. Her heart hammered away in her ribcage and wet liquid dripped off her chin like a faucet as she cried and prayed. “Our Father, who art in Heaven, hallowed be thy name…”
She could hear the door to her room being dissintegrated as that thing stepped into her bathroom. “Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in Heaven…”
The shadow of that thing shown through the bottom of the door and Connie’s insides tightened, her breathing shallow and restricted, her voice trembling with fear. “G-give us this day, our daily bread…”
The bathroom door burst in a loud shout of fire aood ood chips, and Connie let out a blood-curdling scream that was instantly picked up by the man—or alien—who stepped into her bathroom.
As she kept screaming, she dared look up into his eyes only to see herself, pallid with sickening fear and doomed to the same fate of her neighbor.
Connie screamed even louder.
The thing dragged her out from under the counter and licked its lips—or at least she /thought/ they were lips. Connie shook terribly and whimpered. “P-please, don’t hurt me…!”
The gleam in his eyes showed her this would be a slow and painful death as it gripped her by the neck. She felt something pressing into her back, waiting to strike, and she let out a final scream, struggling with her might.
The thing laughed, completely amused.
Connie felt a sharp prick in her back and tears spilled all over the alien’s hand. As she took what she thought would be her last breath, a miracle occurred! She felt hands around her waist and suddenly—in a literal poof—she was out of her apartment and in someone else’s arms!
Trembling all over, poor Connie didn’t care who it was and burst out in fearful tears, grasping who ever was holding her in an iron-like grip, refusing to let go.
So, she was dropped instead.
Landing on her side, her tears halted and she moaned, sniffling and whimpering and wiping her eyes—she was sure she looked like a big blubbering mess. But she didn’t care. She was free! Alive! Safe!
But who had saved her?
Connie glanced around to find that she was in someone’s house with people all around her, staring at her. She would have been scared yet… these people looked sort of nice! Gathering her courage, Connie stood on shaky feet and offered a small, scared smile, the last of her tears dripping off her chin, her eyes swollen and suddenly dry.
“H-hello, my name is Connie.”
~*~*~
TBC…R&R [PLEASE]. ][\\/][ \\\\//\\\\// //-\\\\ ][-][ (It says “mwah”, hehe)
~SweetHart
Warnings:
LEMON, LIME, NC-17, HET—YOU KNOW WHAT I’M SAYING. OH…AND YOUR OCCASIONAL FLUFF EVERY NOW AND THEN. NO OOC IN HERE. V/OC. BULMA AND VEGETA AREN’T EXACTLY TOGETHER, BUT THEN AGAIN THEY ARE…YOU’LL SEE WHAT I MEAN…
Setting:
Starts before the cell games while Cell is still gathering energy from the bodies of humans. Will lead later on into his absorption of 17 and 18.
Summary:
Connie Knowles is your average California gal who lives a normal life. But after a too-close-for-comfort encounter with Cell himself, her whole life is changed when her rescuer comes along! But wait a minute…the one she loves is…a father?!
I’m Only A Woman
Chapter 1
“Five, six, seven, eight!” Her fingers snapped in accordance to the rhythm of the song and she watched, disappointed, as the movements she had been teaching her students for three weeks straight were sloppy, unpracticed and completely unready for this next weeks coming up dance recital. After she could take no more of this horrid form of destructive art, she called a halt to their movements. “None of you have been practicing, that much is evident.” She sternly placed her hands on a slim waist, tapping her foot angrily as her students hung their heads in shame.
“Miss Nowles,” Maria, one of her younger students, spoke up hesitantly, “we’re just nervous.”
She frowned at the small reply. “Nervousness is no excuse; do you think the school representatives watching your performance at next weeks recital will care that you’re nervous? They /know/ you’re going to be nervous, but what you have to do is prove to them that you can over/come/ your nervousness.” She sighed; looking at the faces with eyes which refused to look my way. “Guys,” she complained, whiningly, “there’s only six of you, and I know that we don’t live in the nicest of neighborhoods, but you can all go on to do great things if you /practice./ C’mon, what’s the motto?”
With large sighs her class chorused, “Practice makes perfect.”
Smiling a bit, “That’s right. Practice /does/ make perfect. And you guys will /be/ perfect. Right?” Her little group mumbled some incoherent words but nodded their little heads. “Right. Now, let’s take it from the top.” She stopped the music and rewound it, starting the song from the beginning.
“Five, six, seven, eight…!”
~*~*~
Her apartment greeted her with the welcome warmth of a promising spring. Flopping down onto her couch, she checked my messages.
1st message:
~Connie, dear, it’s your mother. I just wanted to say hello and how have you been? You haven’t returned my call yet, which makes me wonder if you’ve even thought about the last thing I asked you. Do you remember? I asked you if you’d gotten a real job yet. No, Con, teaching dance classes for free is not a real job, so don’t start arguing with me again. Since you haven’t returned my call, it probably means you’ve not heeded my advice, forcing me to turn drastic. ~
‘Here it comes.’ Connie thought, grimly.
~I’ve applied you to Sun Shack. It’s a nice, respectable place to make a bit of starter money, and it was the only place hiring. You really missed out on your chance at a good job this year, but next year we’re going to go job searching together so that this kind of thing doesn’t happen anymore. Oh, and by the way, have you settled down with a nice young man yet? If you’re searching, the fish dock is a good place to start. It’s--~
“Where you met my father, I /know/.” Connie growled at the small machine, deleting the message. ‘She went and applied me at Sun Shack! At a stupid gift shop! What? Does she think I can’t get a real job on my own? This makes me so sick!’ “It really does!” She voiced the last of her thoughts with an outraged howl and pushed herself of the couch.
“I’m going to need a nice, hot shower if I want to check the last of my messages with some sanity left in me.” She huffed angrily, stomping into her room.
Once inside the naturally lit room, the young woman stripped of her clothes and, with the nudity only a woman can be proud of, walked into her bathroom, turning the shower to a drizzle… a /hot/ drizzle.
The hot beads of pelting water greeted her tensed back with welcomed relaxation, and she leaned her head back in the water, hair becoming drenched, water running down the length of her t, pr, practiced body. “Now /this/ is what /all/ dancers should come home to.” She mumbled, flinging her hair over one shoulder and letting her neck receive a full onslaught of pleasure.
Only one thing was missing in this heavenly little scene.
A man.
Connie turned the water off, refreshed, and stepped out of her heated shower house in a fluffy white robe, hair plastered to her tanned face.
She sighed.
In all of California, she had never once found a suitable man to suit her needs, and the few guys she actually /had/ dated had been morons who lived by their hormones and hung off of her every word like the dogs they were.
Rick had been different, though. Rick had babied her, loved her, treated her like the independent woman she really was, and she had loved him, spent all of her time with him—hell, they were even engaged… until she found him with another woman.
The events that had followed had been certainly interesting. First, the connecting of her fist to her fiancé’s fling’s face, then to her fiancé’s. Second the screaming of dirty words in English, then French and finally Spanish. And third, the grand exit she had made… tears, snuffling and all.
Oh, and there /was/ that little ritual she had performed with gasoline, a match, and all of Rick’s things—except that lovely little red corvette she treasured—that had been the finale; but she was over him now.
In fact, she was over the whole damned male species.
Shaking herself out of her memories, Connie took a comb to her hair and began running it through the golden-red tresses that fell down her back in loose, wet curls. Bright emerald eyes began to get watery with sleepiness, and she found herself falling asleep with the comb still tucked into her hair.
::::::::::
Connie rolled over and woke to a pricking pain in her head, running her hands through her hair to find its violator. Damn comb.
Her eyes took in the darkness of her room, and she figured she had been sleep for some time. Shrugging out of the robe that concealed her nudity, Connie began to dress, choosing an oversized gray sweat shirt and tight black running pants—she had cut them so they stopped at her knees now—for her nightly jog around the neighborhood. The moon was full, the night slightly colder than it had been that morning—perfect for jogging. Besides, who could pass up an opportunity to stare into the Heavens just looking at a clear sky full of stars and a bright moon? Not her.
She slipped on her Nike running shoes after the ankle sweat socks and gathered her damp hair in a neat, runner’s ponytail.
With her apartment key in one fist, she left her home, locking it, to begin the run that would stretch out her limbs. She wasn’t prepared for what she saw next.
‘Oh, my God, help me.’ This couldn’t be real. It couldn’t!
“Arghh…!!!”
It was real! The man’s dyingeamseams of agony embedded themselves into her brain, temporarily rendering her paralyzed in fear. She took on the scene before her with a new, heated fear.
A man in green—well, obviously he couldn’t have been a man due to the fact that his…er… tail was stuck into another man—seemed to be sucking the life out of one of her neighbors through his back with a very long, strong-looking tail.
“Help me! Sweet Jesus, someone help meeeeee!!”
Connie let out a cry and in mere seconds found herself inside her apartment, door locked, with her back pressed against it. She heard a rather loud, final scream and an even louder laugh. “Oh, dear God, please, help me…” Her heartbeat ran at least five times the normal rate, and her eyes were probably as large as saucers.
She had to get out of there.
Whatever that thing was, it certainly seemed powerful enough to crush her with its pinkie finger, and Connie found herself bolting through her apartment to get to the back door, her safety…
But it wasn’t meant to be.
Behind her, she could hear the front door being blown off its hinges as a deep, throaty laugh chilled her apartment and made her freeze. She was sure anyone in the neighborhood could hear how hard she was breathing, fighting not to cry. She, instead, dove into her room and slammed the door shut, locking it.
‘Damn it!’ The tears flowed freely as she ran into her bathroom, locking that door also, and hid under the counter of the bathroom sink. Her heart hammered away in her ribcage and wet liquid dripped off her chin like a faucet as she cried and prayed. “Our Father, who art in Heaven, hallowed be thy name…”
She could hear the door to her room being dissintegrated as that thing stepped into her bathroom. “Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in Heaven…”
The shadow of that thing shown through the bottom of the door and Connie’s insides tightened, her breathing shallow and restricted, her voice trembling with fear. “G-give us this day, our daily bread…”
The bathroom door burst in a loud shout of fire aood ood chips, and Connie let out a blood-curdling scream that was instantly picked up by the man—or alien—who stepped into her bathroom.
As she kept screaming, she dared look up into his eyes only to see herself, pallid with sickening fear and doomed to the same fate of her neighbor.
Connie screamed even louder.
The thing dragged her out from under the counter and licked its lips—or at least she /thought/ they were lips. Connie shook terribly and whimpered. “P-please, don’t hurt me…!”
The gleam in his eyes showed her this would be a slow and painful death as it gripped her by the neck. She felt something pressing into her back, waiting to strike, and she let out a final scream, struggling with her might.
The thing laughed, completely amused.
Connie felt a sharp prick in her back and tears spilled all over the alien’s hand. As she took what she thought would be her last breath, a miracle occurred! She felt hands around her waist and suddenly—in a literal poof—she was out of her apartment and in someone else’s arms!
Trembling all over, poor Connie didn’t care who it was and burst out in fearful tears, grasping who ever was holding her in an iron-like grip, refusing to let go.
So, she was dropped instead.
Landing on her side, her tears halted and she moaned, sniffling and whimpering and wiping her eyes—she was sure she looked like a big blubbering mess. But she didn’t care. She was free! Alive! Safe!
But who had saved her?
Connie glanced around to find that she was in someone’s house with people all around her, staring at her. She would have been scared yet… these people looked sort of nice! Gathering her courage, Connie stood on shaky feet and offered a small, scared smile, the last of her tears dripping off her chin, her eyes swollen and suddenly dry.
“H-hello, my name is Connie.”
~*~*~
TBC…R&R [PLEASE]. ][\\/][ \\\\//\\\\// //-\\\\ ][-][ (It says “mwah”, hehe)
~SweetHart