Little Whore

So, it's been quite a while since I've had the time or inspiration to write anything. And I'm not completely sure I've ever done a Dragon Ball Z fanfic before. Definitely never tried this relationship. This was actually inspired by a dream I had. When I told my boyfriend about it, he said the funniest thing: "Did Vegeta go Super-Sayian?!" I laughed for almost five minutes. The idea just wouldn't go away and I knew I had to put it down and share it with whoever was interested. I hope you enjoy. I certainly did. :D

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Pan stirred at the sound of the door to her room opening. She smiled to herself, the sheet snuggled up to her chin, her back to the door. Her husband had left almost eight days ago on Capsule Corp business, something he absolutely abhorred, but something that was absolutely necessary as heir to the company. Eight days of sleeping in a lonely bed. Eight days of missing him. Finally, she would feel warmed and cherished and sated in his arms again.

"I didn't expect you back for another day or two," she whispered.

She stretched, then looked up at the shadow being cast against the wall beside the bed, and whipped around in disbelief. A window outside of the room she and Trunks shared at the Briefs household let moonlight shine through the opened door and standing there, bathed in the silvery glow, stood her father-in-law.

Confused, her eyes went to the clock on the bedside table. 2:15 a.m. glowed a florescent green.

Fear gripped her breast. Had something happened to Trunks? It was irrational to jump straight to fear for her husband's health and start picturing all sorts of horrible accidents that could have occured while he was away. Car crash. Plane crash. Building collapsing on him. Some botched experiment blowing up in his face. Meteors falling from the sky to crush him. She shook her head to clear it of such thoughts. Surely she was jumping to hasty conclusions. But why else would Vegeta let himself into her room in the middle of the night?

"Vegeta," Pan whispered, "what's going on? Is something wrong? Is it Trunks?"

There was no answer as Vegeta continued to stand there. She struggled to make out an expression on his face, but it was cast in shadow, making her heart begin to pound. His lack of response only served to make her more nervous. What was going on?

"Vegeta? Vegeta, please. Talk to me. Did something happen to Trunks?"

The Sayian Prince continued to stand there in silence as he stared at the young woman sitting up alone in the bed. This small wife of his son entranced him for reasons he could not fathom. The darkness of her straight hair, the deepness of her dark eyes, that smile that annoyingly reminded him of her grandfather, that damned Kakarot. It all held him captive now as he stared at her, clutching the sheet against her breast with one fist, her concern over his son written all over her face.

He was powerless to stop himself as one foot slowly put itself before the other and he found himself walking across the floor, the door closing behind him, casting the room in near-darkness, the only window facing in such a way that hardly any moonlight creeped in. Her eyes followed him until he was standing above her. Nervousness instinctively began creeping into her eyes. He watched as she pulled the sheet further up her chest.

"Vegeta." Her voice was a small whisper that barely reached his ears. The nervous note only compelled him further. "Vegeta, what's going on? You're freaking me out."

Her legs curled up closer to her body in an unconscious effort of self-preservation. The predatory part of him anticipated her next move and when she made an attempt to swing her legs over the side of the bed. He was ready for her. Lighting-quick, his hands snapped out and caught her upper arms in an iron grip, shoving her onto her back and straddling her thighs, effectively keeping her in place.

She began to struggle beneath him, and though her strength was greater than that of a regluar earth woman, she was still no match for the older Sayian. He admired the valiant effort, felt a smirk tugging at one corner of his mouth. She was a fiery one. One of the traits he was sure his son attracted his son to this female.

"Vegeta, quit," she breathed, trying to seem angry and add a forceful note to her tone instead of giving away the anixety hidden just beneath the surface. Vegeta could sense it, and it only seemed to add to the irrational desires raging within him. "This isn't funny. Get off and get out. Now!"

"Be quiet, woman." His gruff voice, low and guttural in the darkness as he spoke for the first time, immediately silenced her.

As her eyes -- dark eyes so like those of her low-born grandfather and half-breed father -- stared up at him in a strange mixture of fear and defiance, he wondered once again what it was about her that had brought him here tonight. The very fact that she was Kakarot's offspring should have put him off completely. She was barely a Sayian, the low-born blood inherited from her grandfather tainted by her human grandmother and human mother. She was so far beneath him, it was laughable. Then why was he here?

He had grudgingly accepted his son's marriage to her. Afterall, mixed breed though she was, she was still Sayian and any offspring of her loins would carry on the royal blood he had bequeathed to his son.

The thought of children spawned by his son and Kakarot's granddaughter brought his eyes down to where her belly was hidden beneath the sheet. Using one hand, the other keeping her pinned to the bed, he grabbed the cotton material and with a flick of his wrist, tore a large patch away, exposing the simple black T-shirt underneath. It was one of his son's, so large on her slight body that it nearly engulfed her. He heard her gasp when he ripped the sheet away, felt her breath quicken.

"Vegeta, what are you doing?" She couldn't keep the fear out of her voice now. It was almost a tangible thing, seeming to add a spice to the air between them. It just compelled him further.

Still holding her down, the fingers of his free hand hooked in the neckband of the shirt. His hand rested for a moment against the softness of her neck and he could feel her heartbeat pounding a frantic rhythm against her skin. It was completely intoxicating. He pulled downwards and effectively ripped away most of the front of the shirt. She lay beneath him now, the blackness of the shirt making a charming contrast as it framed the paleness of her skin. She was bare to his gaze with the exception of a little, modest pair of white panties shielding her sex from his view.

Pan was having a hard time breathing under the heat of his inspection of her body and the fear welling up in her chest. What in the world had come over Vegeta? She had known him nearly her entire life. He had always treated her with indifference, even when she became Trunks' wife. And now here he was, pinning her to her bed, straddling her, stripping her clothes off. Her heart felt like it was going to pound right out of her chest. She had to put a stop to this before it got anymore out of hand.

"Vegeta," she whispered, her voice laced with urgency, "please, stop. Please. Just leave and let's forget about this. I won't say anything to Trunks or Bulma. Please, just leave. Think of your grandchild."

He didn't seem to hear her. His eyes were focused on her belly. She was a little over five months pregnant with his son's child. Her once flat belly was beginning to swell with the babe growing within and instead of cooling his ardor, her fertility only seemed to draw him in further. His hand began to gently caress the ripening mound with great care. Her porcelin skin was like warmed silk beneath his touch.

His hand moved downwards, brushing against the top of her underwear. He released his bruising grip on her forearm and let his hand join other at the white material, grabbing it on either side of her hips to rid her of this last garment. It tore effortlessly in his grasp and he gazed upon her sex, the pearl-whiteness disturbed only by a thin strip of black hair running down to the pink button of her womanhood.

"No!" she cried, her hands coming down in a feeble attempt to shield her most intimate area from his view. She could feel her cheeks flaming red at his visual violation of her person. Never, even in her wildest hormone-induced dreams (and her pregnancy had been causing quiet a few wild and steamy dreams so far, though all featured her and her husband), had she dreamed that she would be under assault by this arrogant man. Though she felt as though she would weep from the shame of what was happening, she couldn't ignore the involuntary response her body was feeling at this unwanted encounter. Damn her raging hormones! She turned her face away.

Vegeta merely swatted her hands away like annoying flies. Tiring of such behavior, he grabbed both wrists in one hand and pinned them to the pillow above her head, leaving her body at his mercy. She had consumed him more nights than he cared to think about. She was like a phantom, an addiction, haunting him in the heat of the night. Nothing could rid him of his obsession with her. Even while he attempted to slake his lust on his wife, he still pictured Kakarot's daughter writhing in pleasure beneath him, calling out his name, brought to heel and finally properly respectful of her Princce. He could bear it no longer. Tonight, he would exorcise himself of this black-haired witch's enslavement.

He took a moment to just examine the feast that lay pinioned beneath him. She was such a tiny little creature, appearing so fragile, though he knew it was not true. Her breasts were plump little apples that sat high on her chest, topped by little pink nipples that thrust arrogantly into the air. His head dipped to take one in his mouth.

Pan couldn't stop the moan that ripped itself from deep within her throat. Her treacherous body, so used to the nightly attentions of her lusty husband, craved this contact. When his teeth began to worry the hardening nub of her nipple, so incredibly sensitive due to her pregnancy, her back arched away from the bed. Ashamed though she was, she couldn't deny the wetness beginning to gather between her clenched thighs.

Her reaction to his minstrations caused him to smirk. So the woman was enjoying this as much as he was, despite her struggles. His mouth moved to envelop the other little nipple and she made that delightful little noise again. She was so different from his wife; he found it exciting. Her breasts were smaller and more perky. His wife never groomed the teal curls of her sex in such a manner, merely kept them neatly trimmed. He supposed it was something the younger generation favored.

He abandoned the nipple and reached down to touch the smoothness of her womanhood. She tossed her head, mumbling protests even as he traced the line of hair with his finger. Her thighs moved restlessly underneath him as he got closer and closer to her sensitive flesh. As he came close to his target, her hips arched up in instinctive invitation. He was pleased with her body's reaction to his touch.

She gave a lusty little cry when his tumb reached its destination and began a torturously slow circle, the delightful pressure it exerted causing her breath to hitch and come in hot little gasps. She was quickly losing control of her senses as the pleasure began to crowd into her brain. This was so wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong. The father of her husband should not be in her room, touching her in such an intimate manner, a manner in which only his son had ever touched her. Moreover, she should not be enjoying it as much as she was. It made her feel ashamed and dirty, which confusingly only aroused her all the more.

Under Vegeta's expert touch, she felt the pressure building between her thighs. Her moans became more and more insistant. She was rotating her hips against his strokes. He felt the intensity rising and sped up his minstrations, bringing her right to the edge before he withdrew his hand.

The sudden lack of contact brought her crashing down hard. The unbelieveable cruelty of denying her release brought tears to her eyes. She began to struggle against Vegeta, though whether it was to get away or to get him to resume that fabulous touch, she wasn't completely sure.

"No," she sobbed. Her hips bucked against him of their own volition. "No, no, no. Damnit, no."

He chuckled at the silly little woman beneath him, a deep sound that sent shivers down her spine. She would learn soon enough that she was at his command, she would bend to his will, would do as he said and conform to his every desire, not the other way around.

"Silence, woman. I am in charge here. I am in control." She shook her head frantically at his words. He tightened his grip on her wrists, causing her to wince. "You will obey me. Any pleasure you recieve will be at my discretion. Do you understand me? Answer!"

She sobbed again. She hated herself for being so weak. She knew that he would leave her burning if she didn't give him the answer he wanted, and though she hated herself all the more for it, she couldn't stop her head from nodding in the affirmative to his question.

"Say it," he demanded.

"You're in charge," she whispered, nearly desperate. "You're in charge. Please."

"That's a good little whore."

He released her hands at that moment and slid down the bed, causing her to whimper, thinking he was leaving her afterall. She started when his hot hands grabbed her thighs, nearly scalding the supple flesh as they grasped and began to pull apart. He met momentary resistance before she relaxed and when he had her spread as wide as her legs would allow, he nearly sighed at the beauty of the delicate coral flesh before him.

The womanly scent of her assaulted his nostrils. The unique scent enthralled him, drawing him closer and closer until his nose was almost buried in her. He could see the glistening wetness starting to leak out of her passage. He chuckled again.

"Do you know how wet you are for me?" he asked, his breath ghosting over her and causing her to quiver. "You are eager, aren't you? Should I taste you?"

Without waiting for her to answer, his tongue made a bold swipe up across her tender flesh. The electricity his touch caused sent her back arching off the bed as far as it would go. His arms looped under her thighs and his hands clapped down on the tops, holding her in place as he licked again. Her juices coated his tongue, the salty feminine taste dancing across his taste buds.

"You like that, don't you, you little whore?" She moaned in answer, half due to the feel of his tongue on her and half due to the way he was speaking to her. She shouldn't be turned on by being called a whore, but at this moment she felt so dirty, felt like a whore, and it felt good.

He continued his exploration of the trembling mound before him. On either side of his head, her legs were quaking. A steady stream of moans rumbled richly in her throat, the sounds going straight to his cock. He couldn't remember ever being this hard in his life. His cock was straining between him and the bed. Soon enough, it would be buried deep within her young, willing body. Soon enough.

Pan was nearly delirious with the pleasure assaulting her body. The very fact that the entire situation was so completely inappropriate made it all the more intense. She had never experienced anything like this. Her hands, instead of trying to push him away like they should have done, tangled themselves in Vegeta's hair, tugging slightly as she continued to arch and moan. His mouth was bliss. Over and over again, he brought her to the very peak and then took it away. Surely he was going to drive her out of her mind.

Her entire body was shaking now and the tugging on his hair was becoming rougher and rougher. He was pushing her to her very limits, and she felt as if her body would fall apart. Deciding that she had earned her release, Vegeta began to viciously attack her vagina with his tongue, stabbing in deeply and running it along the hard nub of her arousal, simulating what he would be doing to her soon enough.

Gripping his hair in an iron grip, she arched off the bed once again, crying out as she finally attained her fulfillment. Her hips rutted against his face as she rode out the waves of her oragasm. As she calmed, he began lapping at her juices as they leaked out. She drifted between awareness for a while. It was long enough for him to sit back on his haunches and start removing his clothes. The black tanktop landed on the floor with a soft sound. He managed to get the button and zipper undone before Pan came to her senses and tried to roll away.

His hands shot out and clamped onto her wrists, slamming them into the mattress, his body effectively putting a stop to her escape. She bucked up against him, hot tears of shame burning her eyes. What had transpired so far had been enough, something she would hate herself for for a lifetime. She couldn't let herself fall prey to this man anymore. How would she ever be able to face her husband, the father of the child growing in her womb, in good conscience if she let this continue?

"Vegeta, please, let go!" She continued to struggle against him. "Please, this is wrong!"

"You foolish little slut," he growled next to her ear. Though she struggled, he rough timbre of his voice made her tingle between her thighs. It scared her that he had this much control over her. "Have you learned nothing yet? You are my whore. My toy. I will do with you as I please. And I am far from finished with you."

His knee kept her legs apart as he shimmied out of his pants and boxer-briefs. Tears ran down her face as his skin came in contact with hers.

"Pretend all you want to, woman. The both of us know that you enjoyed what just happened. And we both know that your little sheath will accept me willingly. Fight all you want, but the truth will out soon enough."

He maneuvered himself between her thighs and after he transferred both wrists to one hand, he grabbed himself and began to stroke her feminine center with the head of his penis. She was still incredibly wet, the evidence of her arousal glistening on the ruby-red head of his sex. He smirked to himself. Relcutant though she seemed, she desired him.

"Did you think you would not have to pleasure me as well, you ungrateful little bitch? Did you think this was all about you? I am your prince and you will service me like a good concubine."

The feel of his hardness rubbing between her folds was making her being to lose herself again. She should be stopping this. She should be fighting him in earnest. She should blast his damned head off! Instead, she was raising her hips up, trying to gain more contact. There was no turning back now. Her entire body ached for him to posess her and there was no way she could stop herself.

"That's my good whore," he purred darkly as he felt her straining for him. "I knew you wanted it. Now you have to beg me for it."

"Please," she moaned, completely under his spell.

"Not good enough."

"Please, Vegeta. Give it to me. I need it deep inside me. I need you to fuck me. Fuck me like the whore I am."

"What a filthy little mouth you have, whore." He released her wrists and held her hip while he guided himself to her entrance.

Pan gripped the sheets on either side of her as Vegeta began to penetrate her. The girth surprised her. Trunks was by no means lacking in the size and width department, judging by what she had seen on porn movies. But Vegeta was a bit thicker than his son and she could feel her muscles stretching to accommodate him.

Both hands held her hips at an angle that suited him as he pushed into the moaning woman beneath him. She was so hot and wet, her muscles hugging his penis tight. He couldn't suppress his groan as he bottomed out. The little witch was far more exquisite than he had ever imagined. It took every ounce of control he had not to simply fuck her into the mattress right then.

She moaned, rocking her hips slightly as he fully seated himself in her. He wasn't quite as long as her husband, but what he lacked in length, he made up for in width. She felt fuller than she ever had in her entire life. His rough pubic hairs irritated her clitoris as she rocked against him, only furthering the stimulation.

"How perfectly we fit together," he growled, rolling his hips against her. "Like a glove. Like you were made just for me. Made to be my little whore. Weren't you?"

"Oh, yes," she moaned, past the point of caring whether this was right or wrong, only caring about the fantastic fullness between her legs.

He moved almost completely out of her before shoving roughly back in. A few such thrusts proved that she could take him without a problem. He set a steady pace that had her moaning louder and louder by the minute. Her hands snaked up his arms and over his shoulders, feeling the hills and valleys of his rippling muscles. He was steel encased and warm flesh, scars littered here and there to mar his skin.

Her strong legs and thighs wrapped around his waist, clutching him tighter than his wife ever could have. He thrust harder into her, relieved to be able not to worry about hurting her. Her Sayian blood ensured that she was made of sterner stuff than his wife. He pounded her and she met him thrust for thrust, those throaty moans conveying her enjoyment.

He suddenly pulled himself out of her, causing her to cry out in protest. Vegeta smiled as he settled himself to straddling her chest, careful not to lean his weight onto her.

"Now, my little whore," Vegeta said as he placed a hand under her head, lifting it up, "show me what filthy little mouth can do."

Without hesitation, Pan took the tip of the offered cock in her mouth. She eagerly ran her tongue around the head with practiced skill. It was slick with her juices and as she took more of it, she could taste herself on him. It made her feel more dirty which only turned her on even more.

She sucked on the head, putting the right amount of pressure on it. Soon her taste was gone, replaced by the beads of bitter precum leaking from him. She pulled back momentarily to lap up the salty liquid before beginning to work her mouth up an down his shaft as far as she could.

Vegeta groaned as he fisted her hair. Her skill and eagerness were increasing his ardor. He thrust in to her hot mouth. The head of his penis hit the back of her throat, causing her to choke in surprise. He pulled out a moment to let her compose herself. When he was satisfied she was all right, he thrust in slower, groaning again she she relaxed the muscles of her throat, allowing his penis to slip down.

"What a good slut," he crooned. "Fantastic. Swallow it all, you little bitch. Just like that."

She flexed the muscles in her throat in a swallowing motion, concentrating on breathing through her nose to keep her gag reflex under control. She held her head still as Vegeta began a slow, smooth rhythm. Her muscles continued to contract around him as he moved.

Pan began to moan around his cock. The vibrations felt fantastic as they traveled up along his member, the sac between his legs, and almost clear down to his toes. His son had taught her well.

Before the sensations got to be too much and got the better of him, Vegeta removed himself from her mouth with an audible 'pop.' Her dark eyes stared up at him in anticipation. Smirking down at her, he smacked her across the face with the heaviness of his penis. Her eyes grew wide in shock, but it did not clear away the lust clouding them over.

"Filthy harlot." His voice, though rough with his passion, held a little note of compassion. "Get up, get on your knees with your back to me. Fast."

Vegeta moved to the side to let her up. She scrambled to do as she was told, assuming the position her commanded. She was ready for anything he requested.

His hand came to her shoulder, pushing to force her down onto all fours. She sighed in contentment when he penetrated her again.

"Do you love your prince's cock, whore?" he asked as he reached under her to fondle her tits as they hung underneath her.

"Oh, yes," she moaned. "Yes, Your Highness. I love your cock."

"Just like a good whore should. You are my good whore, aren't you?" He pinched a nipple overly hard to punctuate his question.

"Yes, yes, yes!" Her hips rotated back against him from the pleasurable pain the pinch inflicted.

"Yes, I believe you are."

Vegeta smiled at her back before resuming the abusing pace he had set before. This position allowed him to penetrate her even deeper, and he felt as if he was touching her womb. She began rocking back to meet him and he enjoyed the view of her working herself onto his cock.

He could tell that she was nearing her climax again. Her moans were becoming more and more frantic. He was beginning to lose control himself. The bitch was far more luscious than he could have imagined and he wasn't completely sure that tonight's escapades would be enough to get her off of his mind, out of his blood. Perhaps they would have to do this again.

"Oh, Vegeta," she moaned as he continued to pound against her. "I'm so close. So close. Oh!"

He pulled out suddenly and flipped her over onto her back. Before she could protest, he slammed into her again. Her sharp nails dug into his forearms as she held on. He felt the skin break and the blood begin rush to the surface. He began to hump her harder. The frame of the bed was slamming against the wall with the force of his thrusts.

Pan clutched Vegeta's arms as the most forceful orgasm of her life tore through her. Bursts of light exploded behind her eyes. Someone was screaming from far away. Was it her? It was possible. She was flying high on wave after wave of pleasure. She knew tomorrow she was going to be unbelievably sore, but for now, she was weeping from the intensity of bliss flowing through her body. It was almost painful.

The contractions of her tight passage were what finally threw him over the edge. He felt his release coming on and managed to pull out, aiming at the woman beneath him. She moaned as her belly was coated in his hot juices. His eyes clenched shut as he rode out his fulfillment.

"My good little whore," he crooned, using his thumbs to rub his cum into her skin, branding her. "So good, so sweet."

She continued to let out little moans. She could smell him on her, all around her. Her skin would hold his scent for days. The thought thrilled her down to her toes.

He lifted himself from the bed and began gathering his clothes. He said nothing as he dressed, and she didn't dare try to for coherent thought. When he was fully clothed once more, he looked down at her, drinking in the image of her laying there naked and sweaty, covered in his fluids, sated.

"Good night," he said before he turned to the door. Pan watched as he opened it, letting the moonlight frame him once again, then closed it again, leaving her alone in her tousled bed.

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Pan started awake, laying on her side. She was rocking her hips, a orgasm causing the muscles of her vagina to contract. She was incredibly wet.

As soon as the orgasm passed, she propped herself up to look around. The room was dark, the only light coming from the alarm clock on the bedside table. It read 12:25 a.m. An arm slid off of her hip as the owner sighed and moved behind her. She turned and saw her husband stirring in the bed beside her. His blue eyes opened groggily and looked at the clock, then at her.

"What is it, Pan?" he asked in a sleepy whisper. "Something wrong?"

"No," she whispered softly, turning onto her other side to face him, laying back down. "No, I'm fine. Just a strange dream, that's all."

"Hmm." Trunks closed his eyes and yawned. "Anything interesting?"

"No, nothing you would be interested in," she lied.

Trunks nodded and his face relaxed. She watched as he slowly slipped back to sleep, his breathing slow and even.

It had all been a dream. Just a crazy, hormone-induced dream. She sighed in relief.

Though, even when she closed her eyes and started to nod off again, she couldn't deny how turned on that vivid dream left her.