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Official Initiation	By : chroniclyflaming Category: Dragon Ball Z > Threesomes/Moresomes Views: 2911 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Do not own DBZ and am making no profit from this

Chapter List
- 1-Official Initiation
- 1
The Prompt:

Cockslut!Goku/Cockslut!Vegeta

LONG PROMPT! (maybe I should have just written it myself)

After the Z senshi hear about the android threat and Vegeta 'agrees to help', Goku insists that he should be officially initiated into the group. This occurs before the gravity room is built so Vegeta isn't bat shit crazy over not being able to turn Super Saiyan yet(he is totally cocksure that he will get it in no time.)

The other fighters have their doubts but eventually relent to Goku's 'charm' (he promises them dirty dirty things-the slut!) and the 'initiation party' is planned.

When the 'party' begins Vegeta discovers 'party' really means orgy(OTZ(the main Z fighters is a minimum(*excluding* Gohan(hes what 6 here?)) unless they refuse to attend and the girls are optional)) and at first is shocked that the earthlings would have such a depraved form of hazing. There is a great deal of awkwardness until Goku mentions that he can choose any position with anyone in the room.

Since everyone always picks Bulma on her hands and knees (including Chi Chi) they are shocked when he chooses Goku. On top.

To everyone's further amazement Goku whines about having to be on top. He wants to be on the bottom but will give in since its Vegeta's pick.

During the course of the evening they discover from Vegeta that saiyans in general prefer to bottom and will go so far as to fight for it. Not only that but they like being the center of everyone's attentions (being served by many!) After round 1 Vegeta insists on bottoming again this time with everyone's involvement. Everyone else is amused and Goku relents once more cause Vegeta is being so damn pushy, but by round 3 Goku goes super sayain and forces Vegeta on top.

In the end Vegeta walks away satisfied but makes some sort of rude comment about only having stayed for the sex and not being interested at all in joining their band of idiots.

Nasty. Messy. Steamy. Top from the bottom. Violent. Snarling. Growling. Filthy monkey sex. Peanut gallery comments. Hair pulling. Snark. I want it all! The more of an whore Vegeta acts like the better!

*panting*

Please. :D

The Fill:

Vegeta’s mouth just about disappeared when he entered the room. But his eyes, black as the other alien and his friend’s, but much less happy, only grew to the size of walnuts. The larger man clapped him on the back, hard enough to make him almost stumble.

“Where are…” His swallow echoed through the room. “Where are all your clothes?”

The blue-haired woman, one of the banes of his existence, rolled her eyes and snorted loudly. “Told you, he won’t understand.”

“You’d think he would.” Kakarotte’s mate was also as nude as the rest, lounging against a pillow, next to the other humans. “What with him being so barbaric.”

“Hope. He’s totally shockingly vanilla. And probably asexual.”

“Aw.” The larger man with his absurd hair was whining. “But I went through so much trouble…”

“And the promises are still valid, Goku.” The blue-eyed woman added. “Your ass is ours for a month.”

He gave a cheery smile in response, while Vegeta decided that the promise of the food lining the table in the back wasn’t worth this headache. It was safer back in his quiet room that the woman had offered reluctantly. Yes, the blonde one would sometimes enter, and the old smoking man, and the machines buzzed underfoot to clean, but they always had a sensible purpose (to help him). This was pure madness.

…he’d thought he’d blocked out what the bald shrimp looked like naked, after all else that had occurred on Namek, but the memories were coming back at the sight of all that pale-mottled pink skin.

“Jeez, Vegeta.” The moron was pulling back towards the three-eyed warrior. “Stop staring.”

“I—I am leaving.”

A thick arm stopped him and made him look up. Kakarotte was pouting. “I made lots of promises to everyone to get them here. You have to join in. You’re part of the group—and this is what we do.”

“You…engage in sexual congress? With each other? Often?”

“Oh, it wasn’t always like this,” the short human assured him. “But right around the time—“

“When Goku grew up,” the blue-haired woman explained, with a somewhat wistful sigh that received a dark look from Goku’s wife.

“And especially after Freiza. Well. Life’s too short, you know.” He gave a white, sheepish smile.

“To join our group.” His fellow Saiyan was going on. “You have to take part.”

“Suck us all off.” Vegeta could have beaten new scars onto that smug face, happily. He settled for giving the weakly a furious look that made him swallow and back closer towards Tien and Krillin. Idiots. Bizarre idiots.

The humans were surprisingly depraved with such a thing, however. They seemed too focused on their strange societal norms to do something like this. Nothing that he’d seen in their interactions had hinted as anything like this. Yet, there were devices with purposes that even he could figure out. Bottles of ‘lubrication.’ The nakedness and comfort they seemed to share; even the three-eyed fighter that was usually so stoic was touching the scarred fool’s hair and shoulders fondly.

At least the Namek wasn’t here.

Though, he couldn’t say he’d never heard of such a thing. The Ginyu Force had, after all, their own strange ways of recruiting from the ranks of Freiza’s soldiers. As a boy, Raditz and Nappa would keep him up at night with tales of how they would test certain fighters that caught their eyes. And then later, the two larger men would keep him up with their begging to be beneath him.

Not unlike the look Kakarotte was giving him. For once, he actually resembled his older brother.

He was a step above getting to his knees. “It’s not so bad. Really. It’s fun and good. And you get to choose whoever you want. In whatever position too.”

“Pray for me, Chi,” that annoying blue woman whispered to Kakarotte’s wife. Who giggled and responded with, “Oh, you love having the guys all around you.”

“Well, not everyone’s so picky as you with your tall brunette fetish.”

The black-haired woman was crossing her arms, the slightest blush rising to her pale face. “Hey.”

“Never said there was anything wrong with it. You have decent taste. In men, anyway.”

“I never said I would take part in all this,” Vegeta spat, over the women’s argument.

“But why not?” The spiky head was cocked. “You have to. It’s part of the ‘initiation.’ Everyone did it.”

“Maybe he’s just shy,” explained the bald short earthling. “It’s kinda a lot to take in.”

“You’re one to talk about that. Anyway, Bulma will have him. She gets everyone.” Yamcha said, with a twist to his mouth.

There was a split second of silence as his mind went through anyone? position of choice? finally respect that he deserved… “Kakarotte. On top.”

“Huh?” The scarred human did a double-take. The short fighter with the six dots on his forehead gave a stupid little giggle.

“But, I like being the bottom.” The Saiyan was pouting again.

“Shut up.” All the eyes were on him. And after this, other things might as well. Finally, they would recognize him as their better. Show him exactly the admiration and reverse he so deserved for being the most powerful fighter on this pathetic dustbowl. Aside from…but no, even he would bow that blonde head, perhaps, if Vegeta so requested it. He could nearly taste it, taste the others as they crowded around him, feel their wet mouths. “Get over here, Kakarotte.”

“Okay, okay.” He stumbled over like his half-breed son would when his mother called him. “I guess I can be on top for awhile.”

It was unpleasant to have to undress the bigger man. And to be undressed by him in turn. Any attempt at kissing was immediately shoved aside. The thought of being so close in that way to the third-rate fighter turned his stomach. He could smell dip on his breathe, the greasy chips, grilled meat and bread filled with greens.

It was hard to ignore his miserable friends as well.

“Huh.” Krillin was scratching a round ear. “Someone didn’t choose Bulma. Hell. Even Bulma tries to pick herself when it’s her turn.”

“She’s not the most selfish person in the room anymore.”

“Shut up you two! At least someone gets to get laid.”

“Oh, stop pouting. You’ll get yours.”

“Right now?”

“In a second. After we witness this.”

“Let me get something to eat.”

“Bring us back some sodas.”

Bulma threw the cans at their heads before stomping back with her hands full of food that everyone reached for. Including Kakarotte, who seemed much more interested in crackers than in his prince’s cock. Unacceptable. Vegeta reached out to grab a handful of his hair, darker than his own but with a similar texture, and shoved the empty head into his groin.

Big grin. “Oh, hey, there.”

Vegeta was not amused. “Idiot.”

The Saiyan shoved his mouth with the snack, getting crumbs everywhere, before dryly kissing the other man’s cock. Stretched before him, he was all pale and with pink, uninterested genitals that irritated Vegeta. The humans were showing more interest, offering advice (“use your tongue.” “touch his balls.”) and acting more vigorous. They even began growing aroused themselves, and he felt pissed at how much enthused they were with each other. As though he’d chosen the ship that had yet to be clean, and still smelled of smoke and blood.

Looking particularly lewd with his own head against the three-eyed fighter’s cock, Yamcha seemed unable to look away. Even while his own penis was enveloped by the dark-haired woman’s mouth, and the other noisy female was grumbling and threatening the short human to do what she wanted. “No, you can’t join in and such Goku off! I’m stuck with you, and you’re going to do something right. For once.”

The scarred human pulled his head up from the thickish pink cock he had been working on, to grunts from Tien. “Say, how come none of you Saiyans have pubes?”

“--I said I was sorry about letting your hair catch on fire, Bulma.”

“Unnecessary,” Vegeta grunted. Hands fisting into Kakarotte’s large warm mouth. It was easier and better to shove himself forward into him than expecting the tall fighter to pleasure him correctly. Couldn’t do anything right, oh, goddamn. It has been awhile.

“--Just shut up, baldy, and go down on me.”

Then he had to pull Kakarotte up and look into the emptily cheerful eyes, the spit on his mouth and chin. It wasn’t easy to reach for the half-hard penis and try to bring him to full arousal. This should have been for one of the others, but they seemed too wrapped up in each other to move a mouth, or even a hand, here.

“Don’t be so rough.”

It took a lot of will not to crush the cock in his hand, at that. “Just hurry up and get harder.”

“Mm. Trying.” He scratched a broad chest, looking out over the others. “Kinda hard to tell one from another. Like one of Gohan’s puzzles.”

Vegeta tried not to shudder at the thought of the half-breed son. Probably studying somewhere. For the sake of the species they partially shared, he hoped the brat never found out what his parents did to their friends. “Just lay down.”

“M’okay.” The Saiyan had no problems following the order. It made the prince wonder what it would have been like to have him as a solder. What if he hadn’t been raised on Earth? Vegeta would still be suffering under Frieza’s yolk, still following his commands.

He did his best to push that out of his mind as he settled atop Kakarotte. Then he nearly fell off when a friendly, small hand tapped him on the shoulder with a bottle. “Here’s some lube, Vegeta.”

It felt strange to be making eye contact with the naked fighter, who only smiled in return. Almost smirked in fact. Before he was grabbed and shoved back between the legs of the blue-haired woman, who cursed his miserable existence. Unlike Kakarotte, he hadn’t seemed to be having the same problems with getting properly aroused. “Krillin. I didn’t say you could talk to him.”

“I never agreed to be the sub, here.”

“You’re always the bottom,” she hissed, knees on his shoulders.

They were such an odd bunch of humans, why should the fighter put up with her--then he was startled anew by a hand wrapping around his cock. Shades lighter than his own, it looked strange against his dark genitals. The other white hand was twisting off the bottle and dipping fingers inside to dampen them. Then the prince was pushed forward to have those wet fingers pressing inside him. The stink of some fruit filled Vegeta’s nose.

“You’re really tight!”

“Just shove your cock into me.”

“Okey-dokey.”

Both he and the blue woman who seemed determined to overhear everything rolled their eyes. An uncomfortable moment of empathy.

He braced himself against the large chest, reminded now of Nappa rather than Raditz. Though, the bald fighter would dwarf Kakarotte, the thick muscles evoked memories. The dead Saiyan wouldn’t have believed the state the prince was in, if he could see this. But then the sensation of being spread, the penis sliding slowly in and out of him, the too-tentative hand on his own genitals, all served to shunt the memories of his old companion aside. Perhaps he’d become accustomed to fucking the weak humans?

“Harder, can’t you even do that right!”

“Jeez, you’re so pushy! Even worse than Bulma.”

“No one’s worse than her,” Vegeta swore, breath nearly hissing out as Kakarotte grabbed him by his waist and pulled him even closer.

“Hey, I can hear you!”

“That’s all you can do,” The prince muttered, not entirely sensically. Trying not to whimper before this group of pathetic Earthlings. It had been too long, and he wasn’t going to outlast the other Saiyan. Finish all over the unfamiliar hands, right before these pathetic excuses for warriors. If only he could have them closer, have them bent over his cock, touching themselves, needing him and even more, his permission…

“Get over here, you two.” Not even sure who he was referring to.

But Krillin tentatively picked the loud woman up and sat her on a nearby table, ignoring her shrieking for him to stick his tongue back into her. “You okay, Vegeta?”

He shuddered, suddenly missing his tail. “Oh. Fuu-uck.”

“You okay?” Kakarotte asked. Right before Vegeta collapsed on him. Closed his eyes and felt his breathe evening out.

“Ew. He got some on your back, Krillin,” Bulma whined.

“Eh. I don’t mind.”

“I bet you don’t.”

When Vegeta opened his eyes, he found the bigger Saiyan nearly cradling him, and the blue woman cackling, and Krillin staring at the two aliens, strangely fondly. “Stop staring. And get your hands off me.”

“Wow. He lasted even shorter than I imagined.”

“Don’t be mean,” Krillin scolded. “It was his first time for this.”

“Fine, fine. Are Yamcha and Chi-Chi done? Because I’d like to get fucked by something other than your tongue.” She shoved him away, ignoring the small man’s complaints.

“What’s wrong with my tongue?”

Vegeta smiled up at her. “I want the scarred weakling.”

She turned her head, ridiculous hair flying. “What?”

His smile grew. “I get to choose whoever I want, in whatever position.”

The soft human woman at least would meet his glare. For that, the prince actually found himself liking her more. Despite the always burning hatred and rage over her antics and the stupid things she would say, and the clothes she made him wear. “Bastard. Okay, fine, you can have him.”

Then she grabbed the long-haired man by the ear, away from the three-eyed fighter and the harpy. “What’s wrong, what’s up?”

“You’re going to fuck Vegeta.”

“I am?”

She shoved him into the Saiyan, as Kakarotte got up with a long stretch, and wandered towards the back of the room to assemble a sandwich. “Oh, yeah, he loves your stupid hair and dumb face.”

“Don’t be jealous,” the short bald human chided. “And I’m still here. You can have my penis.”

“What about me?” Chi-Chi yelled, while behind her, the tall muscular warrior frowned heavily at them all.

Bulma flapped a hand. “You can have Goku.”

The tall Saiyan looked up, lettuce dangling from his mouth. “Yesh. Meh.”

“Alright then. Get over here.” She patted his hair, looking at him with a fondness that made Vegeta uncomfortable. Even more so than the damp hand sliding against his back, massaging the old tail scar and tensing his muscles. He looked away from those two.

Bulma settled down to stare at the alien, dragging Krillin along by his ear. She was curling a strand of hair around her finger. “How come you’re so into being a sub, Vegeta?”

Vegeta sneered at her attempts at casualness. “Why shouldn’t you be paying so much attention to your betters?”

“Fuck you.”

“I’d prefer if the scarred moron did that. You human woman, can blow me.”

Unbelievably, she turned red in embarrassment. “I thought you preferred men? Whatever. I’m not your slave. Goddamnit, Krillin, deeper.”

“Mm, sure you don’t want to Bulma?” The taller fighter was touching Vegeta, spreading his leg and sliding a finger damp with some lubrication he’d retrieved from somewhere. He could hear the slick noises as the human rubbed more of that liquid onto himself, and pressed the heated flesh into him. Teasing him, testing him.

She glared at them all, before ducking her head. The unusual shade of her hair made a strange contrast to Vegeta’s tanned skin. Her mouth was as unshy and wet as he’d expected. “Oh, fine. But I better get fucked by one of you after. And fucked well.”

“Oh, oh, damn, Vegeta.”

The woman seemed to wait until the exact moment the human male was sliding his stiffened cock into the Saiyan before taking him into her mouth. Her blue eyes were angry and determined, and impossible not to enjoy the sight of.

“This reminds me of when we put that cockring on Yamcha, and took turns fucking him.”

“I remember that,” Yamcha said, sourly. His hands on Vegeta’s hips were a marked contrast to the woman, who was applying her teeth to the stiffened flesh. Untenderly. Behind her, the short human had his round face buried between her legs, and every so often she would reach out and push him to find a better angle. “This is way better.”

Hands buried into his hair as the burning heat slid in and out of him. Roughly grabbing him and pulling his neck up until Vegeta was baring his teeth, ready to reach behind him and squeeze the human’s balls off. “I think someone here should be getting blown by him.”

The woman pulled her mouth off Vegeta’s penis with a wet slurp. “Oh, yes, definitely. Revenge face fuck.”

“Yep.” Without looking, the prince could tell they were smiling at each other. “Who wants it?”

“Me?” Krillin offered, sounding optimistic.

“No way. You haven’t even finished getting me off. You don’t deserve it.”

“Sorry, man. Hey, Tien, want to get sucked off?”

“Well, I suppose so. God knows we never got an apology from him.”

Had he not been trying to hold back a whimper as Yamcha increased his pace, Vegeta might have voiced a word of complain. Instead, a large, half-stiff pale cock was shoved into his mouth to rub against his molars and inside of his cheeks. Shoving itself in and out. “Suck.”

“Yeah, do it, you bastard.”

With the three humans’ attentions on him, Vegeta ended up ejaculating too soon. At least he got to shock and anger the female by finishing on his face and hair. His eyes fell closed for a moment as she yelled. “God, it’s in my eyes! What’s wrong with you? You couldn’t give a little warning?”

Yamcha continued to hump him, giggling like a small child and reaching out to grab at Tien’s cock, at what wasn’t being enveloped. “Think you get to go next here, Tien. As soon as I’m done.”

And he did his utmost sure to shove himself as far as he could into the Saiyan before finishing. Leaving Vegeta half-hard and with the knowledge that he might very well be a bit sore the following day, after fucking the rest of the fighters. Bulma was playing with his cock, making little comments on his circumcision and the lack of pubic hair, kissing the tip every few seconds. “You owe me a trip to the stylist after this.”

Distantly, he could hear Kakarotte and his mate talking, groaning a little, and had to bite his lip. He’d wanted the other Saiyan to join in on this as well. Next time, he told himself. After the humans.

Tien was all silence and warm cock slicked with some substance, which Vegeta appreciated. For once, no chattering. At least from him. The tall male reached out to jerk the black-haired human’s penis, who in turn was touching both the woman’s breasts, while his other hand was sliding to cup Vegeta’s testicles. Bulma was twisting, closing her eyes and nearly humming, “Almost there, almost there. I swear, it’s like you prefer watching the others than giving me head, Krillin.”

“I like doing both. Multi-tasking.”

“Either way.” She scratched along Vegeta’s thighs. “Not fucking you. You don’t deserve it.”

“Poor, poor Krillin.” Yamcha was laughing again. “Nothing from anyone.”

“You guys are just so cruel to me.” Krillin sighed, resting his head along the woman’s back until she swatted him away. “Do I get to go next with Vegeta?”

The scarred human grabbed Bulma, dragging her close as she yelled about rugburn. “Sure, if Tien doesn’t want another round. Since I’m going to be busy here.”

He grinned at the woman, rubbing between her legs. “You’re completely soaked.”

She was glaring at him. “Put on a condom. God knows what Vegeta might have.”

“Sure, sure.”

When he got up to leave, he gave the Saiyan a perfect view of Kakarotte being ridden by his wife. Feet to either side of his waist, him laughing over something, reaching out to occasionally grab a chip from the bag on a nearby table, while she complained about crumbs.

As Tien grabbed his shoulders, hissing, the only closest thing he’d done to speaking to the Saiyan. It was definitely beginning to hurt, even as his cock reacted to the feel of being entered, and at such a rough pace. Then Yamcha was grabbing between the stronger man’s legs as he ploughed into the human female. Krillin was grinning alarmingly at Vegeta, and touching himself lightly. Exposing too much of himself that made the Saiyan blink, and stare.

This was going to make training tomorrow mildly uncomfortable in a new way.

When the three-eyed man ejaculated, spitting warmth against his increasingly irritated insides, Vegeta was trying not to look at the others. Tien nearly shoved him away, muttering that now he was all Krillin’s. It was better to ignore them, even as the blue-haired woman complained about Yamcha not showing her enough attention, as he was currently jerking the Saiyan Prince off and asking the other tall male if he wanted to fuck him. Vegeta balanced his lust as best he could, hoping to keep it up for a bit longer, for when Kakarotte finished, as the annoying short man slapped his ass, almost casually.

“You ready? I’ll be gentle, if you want.”

“Just shove it inside me.”

But he insisted on waiting, with a bottle of lubrication in his hand. “And should I be wearing a condom?”

“Shut up, weakling.”

“Oh, fine. Why can’t any of you ever be nice to me?” The penis shoving against his back seemed to make the question very rhetorical. But he was spreading moisture onto himself, and pushing fingers into Vegeta.

Unlike Tien, the small Earthling seemed unable to chatter. “I don’t normally get to be on top, so thanks. Only Goku lets me, but he does that for everyone.

“Wow, you are pretty tight.

“I’m glad that you wanted to join in. We needed new blood. It’s just been us for now.” Krillin blew out of his mouth loudly. “For a while now.”

“Not that it’s bad or anything. But, I dunno, I guess if you want to keep the novelty of this alive, you have to change things up. Adding an angry alien to the pile is pretty new. Since we don’t dare ask Piccolo here.”

He sighed. “It would be nice to have a normal life. You know, with a girlfriend. Or at least someone I can have sex with by myself. You know? This is pretty much my romantic life.”

Vegeta was biting his lip hard enough to taste blood, to ignore being speared by the shorter man. His own cock was nearly bobbing against his stomach, and he had to grab Yamcha’s abandoned hand and put it back on himself for a distraction. He now had a better idea why the weak human woman didn’t want this, and why Kakarotte had.

“I just really want a girlfriend. Or maybe a boyfriend. Would that be easier? Since I don’t think I’m straight anymore. Though I do prefer women. I don’t know. Just someone. You know?”

“God, Krillin,” Bulma yelled over the sounds of the others copulating loudly. “Just shut up and fuck him.”

“I am! Bulma, mind your own business!”

“We can all hear you bitching about not having a date! Jeez, wonder why?” The woman rolled her eyes.

“It’s not fair. Everyone here gets someone. Or, just about, since Tien says he doesn’t want to date anyone. And I only get to have someone during this. And this doesn’t count.”

“Vegeta’s single,” Yamcha threw in.

“No way. He’s too mean. And people will make fun of us for being so short.”

“Like they don’t already do that,” Bulma muttered into her mate’s shoulder.

“No offense, Vegeta. I just don’t see this being long-term. Hey, hey, man, are you upset?”

The Saiyan had to pull his mouth from his own arm that he’d been biting to keep from yelling. “No. Shut. Up. Hurry. Fuck. Me.”

“Okay, buddy. Maybe we can both find girlfriends. Or boyfriends. Before the android come, and you know, possibly murder us all.”

Please just let the bald shortling finish up. He saw bright shapes with every thrust that hit its target—which was most of them. This Earthling was an annoying little weak bastard, but he had decent aim. And the talking only added another layer to the torture. Being ruthlessly fucked, mindlessly devoured by the sensation. Vegeta tasted blood over his teeth as he bit down hard, and finished over Yamcha’s hand.

But still, still the shrimp get pumping into him, getting a little rougher by grabbing his hips. “Okay, getting closer. Just hang on.”

“You see why we make him the bottom,” Bulma told the prince, conversationally. “He’s built better for it.”

Yamcha was rubbing her mound, and making the blue eyes flutter. “I just don’t want to have to walk around with a weird limp for a week.”

“Vegeta’s tough; he can handle this,” Krillin assure the man under him. “Not like puny mortals, right, Vegeta?”

The alien spat out blood, making Bulma and Yamcha flinch away. “That’s disgusting.”

“Just, consider this a sorry, for almost stabbing you.” There was an awkward pat around the shoulders. “But I guess we’re friends now?”

The air stunk of hormones and the sickly cherry and banana lube they’d been passing around. Krillin’s happiness was an almost tangible thing, and he started humming, horrible humming some annoying song under his breath as he slid a few more inches in and then right back out, agonizingly slow. “Okay, almost there.”

“You’re going to be dripping semen out of your ass for a week,” the blue-haired woman warned.

“Yeah.” Yamcha sounded as winded as Vegeta felt. “It gets everywhere. Like a sprinkler.”

“Hey, how would you guys know? You never even get me off enough.”

Everyone around them looked to be at ease. Goku and Chi-Chi were rolling around, knocking into the buffet table, and giggling. He pulled her on top of him, palms against her white breasts. It didn’t help make the veins lower and stop throbbing, especially in his neck. The scarred human’s hand was too weak when Vegeta grabbed it again.

“Jeez, my hand’s already covered in enough of your jizz,” the weaker man complained.

Bulma smacked him about the chest. “What, stop rubbing it on me then, especially down there.”

“It’s okay, you’re on birth control. Right?”

Hands shoved Vegeta closer to the floor, and the bald man sounded almost pained as he shot off, seemingly coating the insides of the prince with that sticky warmth the humans had warned him of. When Krillin pulled out with a keening noise, he could definitely feel the liquid sliding down the insides of his thighs. Disgustingly motherly, the human found some napkin and was cleaning the stronger man up.

Vegeta shoved him away. “Get lost. Go fuck someone of your own species.”

Krillin’s mouth was loose and unhappy. Considering he’d finally had the sex he’d whined about not getting all evening, the Saiyan couldn’t see why. “That’s what I want.”

The two nearest humans were there to complain as well. “Oh, don’t start crying.”

Only the long-haired man tried to comfort him. “C’mon, little buddy. We’ll make sure you meet someone. Someone nice and presumably human--”

The short human was looking at his penis. “I could go again.”

“—And with good endurance.” Yamcha finished.

Vegeta decided to ignore them. Kakarotte was finishing with his own mate, who was sighing contently against his large chest, while he giggled. “It tickles when you do that.”

A fool, but one of the only ones that felt…right. An equal match in physical terms. Only the blue-haired woman could meet the Saiyan in wits and endurance when it came to yelling at each other, but she couldn’t fight. She wasn’t the same race, and couldn’t understand the drive, the honor that came to a warrior, and she most definitely couldn’t fuck him hard enough to temporarily go blind.

What he needed was another proud Saiyan fighter, and Kakarotte was the closest thing to that.

The taller man pulled away from the wife with a loud, obnoxious stretch. She looked pleasantly winded, and was giving her mate smug smiles, while she lounged against a pillow on the carpet. Greedily gazing up at the third-rate Saiyan, for once not screaming at him.

“Kakarotte. Here.”

“What?”

“Once more.”

“Damn,” Bulma uttered, impressed.

“What, oh, I don’t know. Can I be on bottom?”

“No.” Vegeta stared him down. “You know the rules of this engagement.”

“Alright then.” He gave over, sighing. “Roll over.”

Vegeta had to resist the urge to strangle him. “Yes. Can you stick it in me, or is that too straining for you?”

“Oh, okay.” There was a strange, strained look to Goku’s face. Like he was deep in thought. Vegeta merely snorted, and laid on his stomach.

So he didn’t noticed until it was too late to fight the other Saiyan off, as he turned Super Saiyan, and jumped on his back. Wrenching his arms behind him, rolling his protesting body over, and then sitting on his half-hard cock.

“This isn’t part of the rules, Kakarotte,” Vegeta spat, outraged that the taller man would have such nerve to pull this crap.

But the green eyes were pitiless. He slid lube over Vegeta’s increasingly discomforted cock with hands that were frustratingly, impossibly strong. The other man let him struggle futilely, while he shifted to slide the penis into him. All hungry and eager. Not the slightest bit of pain, the paler face now haloed with spikes of golden hair was open and relaxed with pleasure.

The others were yelling encouragements. “Yeah, get ‘im Goku!”

“Make him tear you to pieces.”

It came to everyone’s surprise when Kakarotte grabbed a fist full of Vegeta’s hair. “You love being fucked, don’t you? Well, too bad.”

“This is really shown a whole ‘nother side to Goku.” Bulma told Chi-Chi, who could only nod. “Now, come here, I’m getting sick of looking at all these penises.”

Which made the bigger Saiyan pause and look at them. “Go easy on her Chi. I don’t like having to lie to her Mom how she got bruises,” he warned.

“Fah!” Bulma flapped a hand at the Saiyans. “Just go get fucked, and leave the women—God, stop pinching, Chi-Chi.”

“It’s really not a turn on to watch two women fight when they’re really trying to hurt each other,” Yamcha told the other human men.

“Yeah, don’t beat each other up,” the shrimp said, holding his hands out.

“Well, we’re sure not beating you off.”

They weren’t even watching now, the two shrieking women were taking attention away from the prince being forced to fuck Kakarotte. The men just watched the women kissing and touching, forcibly in the dark-haired woman’s case, occasionally eating. Sometimes, the fighters would wince when someone threw a good elbow.

“Would. You. Worthless. Bastards…here.” Vegeta was surprised by how husky his own voice was.

“Oh, right.”

“Yeah. Sorry. Thought you wanted some privacy.”

“Well, if he does,” the three eyed man said. “Then we make sure to watch him.”

“How does that cock feel, Goku?”

“Good, really good.”

“Kakarotte. Bastard.” It was the only insult he seemed to have left. The way the other Saiyan squeezed at the right angle, moving in some shape that brought sweat to creep down Vegeta’s forehead, the encompassing warmth and heaviness of him…ever muscles tensed, and everyone watching Kakarotte seemed to hold their breath as he pumped his cock faster.

“This feel so good…even better as a Super Saiyan.”

“Yeah, looks to be.”

He leaned back further into Vegeta, nailing biting into his skin hard enough to draw blood. “Go faster.”

The prince tried to push him off; to even get him on his knees would be better than being ridden in such a manner. His rising ki reflecting his growing rage, even as his body’s knees felt weak from how good that tight warmth was. “Get the hell off me!”

“Nope.” White teeth looked even sharper in this form. The form that had teased him, beyond his reach for so long. “I love this too much. Sorry.”

Now, he regretting drawing the others’ attentions onto them. His pride wanted to fling a ball of ki at them. But it was impossible to move.

“You are not,” he managed to croak. Then grabbed for the heavy pale cock to pump in his hand, painfully. While the other hand touched the bright hair, felt the power sweeping from him, the sick jealousy that he felt at such a simple display of strength. Kakarotte seemed even stronger than on Namek.

He came, in self-defense. But still he was ground into the carpet. All those scattered memories of Nappa and Raditz hadn’t prepared him for this. He’d always been the one being entered, roughly or with some semblance of gentleness, and always on his terms. The carpet was being rubbed away, beneath him. Things were rattling around, floating upward from the force of Kakarotte’s power level.

“I’ve never seen him so worked up.”

“I’m actually glad that he’s never been like this with us.”

Even when Kakarotte shot off, to cheers from the others, (“Look at how far it landed!”) he still wasn’t done. The smaller man’s pelvis felt like it was being crushed, and then the bones removed and replaced with pieces of broken glass and sharp rocks. Still, trapped inside the Saiyan, his cock was wrung as limp as one of Bulma’s mother’s rags.

He nearly had to crawl away, aching from his groin and ass.

“Need some help?”

Vegeta shoved Kakarotte’s hand aside, and braced himself for the pain, before pulling himself up. The next few days of training were going to be painful in ways they were not supposed to be. “Idiot.”

The other Saiyan held his hands out. “C’mon. We should hug it out. That’s what we do here. Or, well, have-sex-it-out.”

Vegeta grabbed and hungrily devoured a sandwich before retrieving his clothes. He swallowed, before yelling and stomping away. It was starting to hurt to put his clothes on, especially the lower part. “Moron.”

“Lookit him. Yelling at Goku, complaining about Bulma, emptying the buffet…”

“Aw. He’s one of us.”

“Shut up!” Vegeta struggled to pull on his boot. “Shut up, human. I am not one of your gang of idiots.”

The scarred human rolled his eyes at Kakarotte, who smiled good-natured. “Su-ure.”

Krillin was looking around for his own clothes. “See you next week?”

The Saiyan paused in the doorway. It would mean getting revenge on Kakarotte. Though spending more time with these fools was going to be unpleasant enough when the androids finally peeked their robotic heads. Even eating with the tall human weakling and the blue-eyed woman strained his patience. And the bald one’s chattering was unceasing.

Still, he couldn’t say he’d been entirely displeased with this evening.

“Perhaps,” he allowed, before storming off.

If only he hadn’t overheard Bulma assuring the others that he would definitely be back, there was no way he could resist the siren call of her boobs and Goku’s penis, Vegeta might have believed he still possess the full extent of his dignity before the weaklings. At least the androids might come soon, and hopefully kill a few of the humans before they were in turn destroyed by his own hand. That he clung to, as he trained the next day, and ignored the sly comments the blue-haired woman made about him walking funny.
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Official Initiation