Goku pops up at Capsule Corporation, interrupting a steamy evening between Vegeta and Bulma. As they awkwardly catch up, Vegeta learns of the *intimate* start to Bulma and Goku’s lifelong friendship. Jealousy flares and the prince of all saiyans insists she reveal what other secrets she’s been keeping. Confessions continue… and Bulma gets more than she bargained for when both warriors lose their patience! What sort of sexy punishment must she withstand to squelch saiyan fury?
Sometimes lecherous secrets lurk in the most oblivious of lairs…!
Chapter 1
“Mmm,” a deep voice grumbles, “That pussy looks good enough to eat….”
Bulma wraps up in a towel and faces her bath-time guest, “You’re finished training early, huh?” She laughs with seductive softness.
“Nn,” Vegeta grunts, “I couldn’t concentrate….” He pulls her into his hard body and nuzzles her neck.
She moans as he gobbles in gentle biting kisses. Excitement jolts her nerves, floods her folds. Her fresh scent, pungent, seeps into his system with speed and seed, so he steers her swiftly through the doorway to their room—
“Hey, guys!” Goku yells from the bed, waving.
“Kakarotto?!?” Vegeta roars and Bulma shrieks.
Goku winks, “Bulma, you do look good enough to eat.”
“How long have you been listening??” she shakes her fists.
Goku shrugs, reclining, and studies Bulma’s firm body as she twists between outrage and conceit.
“Tch,” Vegeta grits in annoyance at Kakarotto’s intrusion but also his throbbing prick. Inhaling deep, he meditates away the blood rushing to his boner—or tries to.
“So…,” Bulma waves her arm impatiently at Goku, “what do you need??”
“I was gonna ask Vegeta to spar,” he sniffs a few times, “but what’s that?”
Vegeta squints, sniffs the air: “Third-class garbage.”
“I don’t smell anything,” Bulma says.
Goku rubs his nose, “Must be my imagination. I’ve been smellin’ it all day.” He gives Vegeta a crooked smile when Bulma looks down to tighten her towel.
“So, I haven’t seen you since that, uh, night with 18,” she fumbles.
“Aw man, Chi Chi drew eyebrows on me after I passed out!” Goku laughs, “Super Saiyan Three feels incredible, but—phew—it’s exhausting! What did you think?”
Bulma sighs theatrically, blushing, “I wanted more attention.”
“Haha! What about you, Vegeta?”
“What?” he barks.
“What was your favorite part of 18’s big orgy?”
He snorts, “Must you talk so incessantly?”
“Come on, tell us already,” Goku laughs, “I’ll tell ya mine.”
Vegeta rolls his eyes, bristling, “You don’t need to, the whole fuckin’ galaxy knows!!”
Bulma giggles quietly.
Goku smiles wide, reminiscing, “I was fiddling bits like dummies fiddle tags.”
“… I do love fiddling with those slutty fucks,” Vegeta licks his chops.
“We should be a lil gentler though, they’re sensitive!”
“Tch. What about your performance?” Vegeta squints, “That was fuckin’ savage.”
Bulma cringes.
“What can I say? You bring out the bad in me,” Goku laughs nervously, scratching the back of his head.
“The saiyan,” Vegeta corrects.
“Hn?“
“I bring out the saiyan in you,” he elaborates, with irritation.
“If that’s what you wanna call it.”
“Uhh,” Bulma frowns, “bad or saiyan, that stuff is NOT hot.”
Vegeta chuckles menacingly, “You didn’t enjoy the deepthroat vomit contest?”
“Absolutely not!” she yells, jabbing her husband in the chest with an accusatory finger. “That was definitely over the line; swear you won’t act like that again!”
“You know I can’t make absurd promises,” he whispers before kissing her deeply, sucking, biting, reaching a hand to her breast. “Pleasure only exists in the presence of pain.”
Bulma pouts, “But Chi Chi said you two were really gentle the other night;” she whines when Vegeta pinches her nipple but continues, “she suffered PLENTY of pleasure! It’s my turn again in the tub—”
“What!?” Vegeta asks, jaw twitching, clenching her titty.
“No! I meant—”
“Your first time with Bulma,” Goku interrupts, “did you ‘fall asleep’ on her coochie, too?”
“Shh!!” Bulma shushes frantically—
“She was my first pussy,” Goku proclaims proudly, “Literally. Never seen one before hers. Scary looking thing…,” he thinks back. “Then I saw her bathing, heheheh, so she gave me a bath, another first for me, and boy,” he whistles, “I learned a lot!”
Vegeta snarls viciously, but Bulma purrs, “Vegeta-sama,” she strokes his swollen bicep, “that was AGES ago, we were kids—”
“Then how’s it your turn in the tub?!” he growls.
“Ehh….”
He whispers tensely, “You swore there was nothing between you and Kakarotto!”
“There isn’t!” she whispers back quickly, “It’s nothing! It’s… like you and 18.”
“We are equals in all things, woman,” he spits, “but you are always mine—what else are you hiding from me?”
“What?! Nothing, Vegeta!”
“Hn,” he grimaces, shifting his sharp eyes around the room. Stepping away, he yanks a cord out of an outlet, stripping it from a lamp.
“Come on, you’re overreacting!” Bulma shouts with a smidgen of terror.
Holding the cord in a loop, he whips it through the air, smacks it sharply into his palm and smirks. “This will hurt,” he growls; “I’ll know if you’re lying.”
“Vegeta?” Goku furrows his brow, still seated on the bed.
“I broke so many slaves back on Freeza’s ship, my weekly quota was capped at fifteen, and she,” he points, shaking his head, “wants more attention?”
“My prince…,” Bulma pleads, but he snatches a handful of blue hair and drags her, fighting, across the cold floor.
“Hold her still, Kakarotto,” he tosses her yelping onto the bed.
Goku, pitching her useless towel, cradles her quivering alabaster form over his lap. He tenderly traces her slim legs, bent delicately.
Held in his infamously unyielding strength, Bulma breathes heavy and trembles in nakedly electric anticipation. Vegeta lurks behind her; she hears the whirling wire’s whistle.
Vegeta watches her anxious ass cheeks twitch, ignoring his pounding prick. He waits till she stops wiggling, then the black cord sings, slicing the air:
SWAT!
“Ahh!!” Her feet kick reflexively, and she wriggles, locked in Goku’s clutches, as a red welt, an angry loop, races across her porcelain ass.
“Are you okay, Bulma?” Goku caresses her thighs.
“Y…yes,” she gasps.
“Don’t worry, I won’t leave any permanent marks,” Vegeta laughs cruelly and he swings the cord again:
SWAT. Swat.
She cries loud, anus flexing, and wiggles side to side fanning her bum, red and streaky.
“You’re such an asshole,” Goku mumbles, “but I’m so fuckin’ hard.”
“Shut up,” Vegeta snarls.
The softer man’s hardon stands stiffly, and he grips it in a rough stretch; Bulma huffs, her cunt drooling expectantly. The prince growls low and the cord twirls in a blur:
Swat swat swat swat swat swat swat swat SWAT!
The last lash cracks louder than the rest. She cries in gasps, mascara smearing, yet she can see by Vegeta’s inordinate erection: he’s beyond full mast.
He smirks, “Ready to confess?”
“I swear,” she pants, “there’s nothing!” but inside, her core aches, begging for what she can’t imagine.
“You’re so sexy…,” Goku gently tucks hair out of her messy face.
Vegeta squints, glaring, “Show him your gratitude, woman.”
SWAT!
“You know better than to disobey…,” he scowls.
Trembling, she reaches back for Goku’s granite rod, pulsing hot through cotton pants. As quickly as his groan rumbles out, Vegeta swings his heavy palm into her face:
CLAP!
Dewy-eyed, Bulma holds her cheek.
“Filthy whore, admit everything!” he growls savagely.
“O—okay!” she squeezes her eyes tight, crying, “I can’t stop thinking about… that night,” her lip quivers.
He squints, “… And?”
SWAT.
“I want what you gave 18,” Bulma huffs shamefully, “I want you both… at the same time….”
Vegeta grins with a growl, “You have us right now.” Goku rubs her butt cheek with a squeeze, smiling.
SWAT.
“Ah… I… uh…,” she puffs, “I need you both… inside me.”
SWAT.
“Please…,” her voice cracks.
SWAT!
“… split me apart,” she chokes on the words, “please, with your super saiyan cocks….”
Vegeta grunts, smiling with satisfaction at his cherry etchings. Goku slides a finger down her crack, over her tender ass hole, and dips just the tip into her creamy vacant cunt.
“AH—!” she gushes.
“Greedy fucker!” Vegeta snaps.
Swat.
“Ouch!” Goku sucks on his knuckle, “You didn’t have t’ do that.”
Vegeta starts stripping, peeling away his tight jumpsuit.
Goku leans over Bulma and spreads her juicy cheeks apart. “You smell so fucking good,” he groans, and with wild, wide wetness, he laps at her sensitive butt hole.
She shouts, stunned by his invasion, but erupts with honeyed moans as his savage sanguine slurps probe deeper.
“Out of the way,” Vegeta grunts, penis prepared, but engrossed watches his wife’s little pink ass hole pucker and pout under Kakarotto’s obstinate mouth.
She pants with panic when Goku stops—he sits back and pulls her hair into a tight fistful, locking her in his control. She sees his chiseled knees and the rumpled bed and nothing else. Then she sees the flared head of his thick shaft….
“Eating your sweet booty made me so fuckin’ hard,” he rubs his cock against her face, taps her rosy cheek. “Gimme a lil kiss…”
Kneeling behind her, Vegeta mumbles to himself. The sheets are soaked with pooling untapped pussy sap… and her silky sphincter shines in sucking submission: He traces his cock around each hole indecisively.
Bulma bucks eagerly, mumbles with a mouthful of cock.
“Tch!” Vegeta tugs her hips, away from Kakarotto, tucking into her slippery gash and howls, sliding her sucking chasm down onto his throbbing dick.
Upon impact, she gushes ecstatically and giggles goofily with milky orgasm.
“Yo!” Goku jerks her hair, silencing her giggly lips with his rigid rod, nearly pulling her off Vegeta’s cock.
“Grrr…!” Vegeta forces her pussy to sink back onto his angry cock, taking her from Goku again—who pulls her hair, again.
They tussle back and forth, fucking Bulma contentiously, producing deviant human-sized slide whistle performance art. She times her breathing carefully; “Don’t… fight!”
“Hmph,” Vegeta snorts and skips his beat—waiting—then slams into her tender body in sync with his behemoth cohort. “Is that better?”
Bulma moans like a bound begging beast skewered between them. They smash together in tempo, and she swallows Goku’s dick like a spit-roasted pig, nose smooshed back; her pussy wolfs Vegeta’s snausage, her buns flattening into odd oblongs against his brawny body.
Goku pauses, sweating, and Bulma gulps air. “You better not cum yet,” she fusses, “I’m so close again.”
The saiyans growl, gnashing fangs, and in harmony roll their hips and pound, sandwiching her body like a perverted panini press. She buckles, folding to the bed, and lies powerless to the pistons’ churn.
Goku pulls her ears, “Come on, suck a lil harder…” Clenching muscles of cosmic definition, he dips and rocks his narrow hips.
On the other end of Bulma, Vegeta’s brow glistens and a droplet of sweat slides between his bulged pecs. “Fuck, baby,” he says under his breath, “you’re so goddamn tight.”
Whether sparked by her lewd angles, trusting vulnerability or provocative pain, Bulma feels telltale pulses of cresting pleasure poles. Goku throbs in her cramped mouth then wrenches sharply from her soft lips—she sucks air—and he pumps warm jizz across her innocent face, growling.
She clenches in stirred surprise, and her snatch squeezes Vegeta over the knife’s edge; he pulls out just in time to splat Jackson Pollock jizz jets across her bare derrière.
Chapter 2
Shining shafts of moonlight sparkle on the saiyan semen splattered across Bulma’s skin.
“What happened?” she clucks, rubbing her face, “And why is it in my eye?”
“Hmph,” Goku snorts, panting.
“Tch,” Vegeta stretches his naked body in gliding ballet formation. “You reek.”
Bulma pouts, “I’m showering again,” and marches towards the bathroom.
In a flash, Vegeta catches her wrist and grunts, “You will do nothing of the sort.”
Her eyes drop to his crushing grip, “Excuse me—”
“Don’t you dare wash,” Goku growls behind her, uncomfortably close. A hungry beast feasting on lust’s heat, he takes wide-nostril sniffs of her chocha.
Bulma blushes, but then she wrinkles her nose in confusion. “When you showed up, Son-kun,” she frowns, “wasn’t it sort of late to start training?”
SWAT!
“You ask too many questions, woman,” Vegeta jerks her scrawny arm and throws her over his deltoid. “You’re going back to bed.”
“Put me down!”
“Heh,” Goku brushes his palm across his chubbing cock, “We ain’t done yet.”
Vegeta tosses Bulma, and she flails, bouncing akimbo on their mattress. “Before was just a warmup,” he grins sadistically, stretch-flexing his semi. “Now I’m fucking you raw.”
“Have you been drinking again?” she fumes, cheeks rosy, “Because you sound stupid.”
“She’s pissy,” Goku claps Vegeta on the shoulder, “’cause she still hasn’t gotten her wish.”
“Hmph,” the prince smirks and Bulma gulps. He leans in, “What else could you possibly wish for, you greedy cum-covered slut?” He snarls close to her ear, and she shivers. Beneath him, the hum of electricity in her body pops into steep burning arcs, reaching out.
“You know what I want….”
Goku lifts a rakish eyebrow. “What I know,” he drawls, “is you two’ve been busy all day.”
Vegeta scoffs but answers Bulma, “You want to be a super saiyan plaything?”
“Uh…,” her eyes flick between the two sweating beasts.
“Well? Speak up,” Vegeta barks, “Stop your pathetic simpering.”
“Kh—!” She sits up, glaring; “Do you have to be such an asshole?”
Goku chuckles, “Admit it, you goosh for bad boys!”
Smug Vegeta, quick, strokes his cock.
“We all know Bulma’s got a kink for killers,” Goku snickers.
“Well, I’m nutting her killer-cum-dumpster cunt to the brim,” Vegeta poises to pounce.
“That’s not allowed, and you know it!” she punches him and crosses her arms over her pillowy tits.
“You’re hot,” Goku laughs, “but you are too old to get knocked up.”
“You fucking prick—!”
“C’mon, I’m just havin’ fun!” he winks, and jiggles her boobs with greedy juvenile delight.
“You goddamn idiot!!” she swats, but he just smirks.
“You’re makin’ me super hard…,” he stretches across the bed, stroking his fuming prey.
From the edge, Vegeta watches with brooding eyes—sucking black holes of steel stoicism sap Bulma’s resolve.
Undaunted, Goku slides his hand down her perfect peach ass cheek, cupping firmly. She squeezes her thighs together, but he wiggles into her slippery slit anyway. She gasps, and a glimmer of sweat dribbles down her back.
“So, tell me,” Vegeta speaks at last, “What is Kakarotto’s kink?”
She mutters, “Well, it’s not hand jobs anymore, that’s for sure.”
“Heheh, they were amazin’, though!” Goku slaps her thigh. “Bulma taught me so much, Vegeta. You’re a lucky guy.”
He raises an eyebrow.
“Ugh, look,” she rolls her eyes, “I had to bathe Goku. He stunk of fish and armpits.”
Goku grins, “Somethin’ magical happened when she scrubbed my wiener.”
“He never had a boner before!?” she bristles.
“Heheh, she showed me how to change it back!”
“Yeah, and how did you thank me??”
“I swear, I had no idea,” Goku blushes mischievously.
“You jizzed in my goddamn eye!!”
“Hmph!” Vegeta crosses his arms with a smirk.
“You,” Bulma snipes her husband, “What was that slave comment earlier? What sick shit have you done?!”
The air pulses with vascular, oversexed saiyans anxious to begin the next bout. Vegeta cocks his head curiously, “I ran trains.” He crouches back on his heels, “And if you don’t check that attitude, I will run you like I ran the thousands before. Now,” he barks, “get to work.”
She curls her hand around his cocky fuck club so thick, her fingers and thumb can’t meet. Goku spits in her other hand and strokes his stony monstrosity.
She squeezes both fists, “This is as big as they get, right?”
“Nngh,” Vegeta frowns, “We won’t fall for such pathetic tactics.”
“How about that big muscly form, what was it called?”
“Ya mean this?” Goku pumps his pythons in a blast of super saiyan power, and his lean muscles bulge grotesquely, engorging with tremendous golden glowing lifeforce. His transformation’s potency throws her back against Vegeta.
“Oh, yeah,” she stares agape as Son-kun flexes and twists his freakish fresh physique, “that’s the one….”
Vegeta bellows ultrasonic force as he, too, balloons into Super Saiyan 1.5, and once again her body is tossed across the bed.
“Calm down,” she quibbles, “or you’ll wake up Trunks.”
“You said you wanted more attention,” engorged and gleaming Vegeta gloats, “Are you regretting this already?”
She grits her teeth; maybe she miscalculated….
“Grab her arms.”
Goku locks her hands behind her back with one huge hand, lifting her to her knees. With big fat probing sausages, he finger-fucks her delicate hinge.
“Please, wait,” she jerks in his grip, “th-that’s too rough!”
“You’re in no position to make demands,” Vegeta says, watching her cunt drool down Kakarotto’s fingers.
Goku grinds against her bubbly butt while fingering her stickiness with sick fascination. Vegeta closes in, sandwiching her vulnerability, and laps the sweet salty sweat of her neck.
“When I fucked the robot whore,” he grunts in her ear, and Bulma struggles, gasping, “I felt like my old self again—free—fucking my way across the galaxy, demolishing alien pussy and burning entire worlds to the ground.”
“Gah!” she strangles as her butt hole, freshly corked, spazzes on Goku’s big ass thumb.
“You begged for us, and now, here we are…,” Vegeta sweeps his arms in a grand gesture. “We are the legendary super saiyans, and you are our plebian plaything—a toy, a lowlife human fuck doll, to dismantle and dispose of like a degenerate fucking bauble.”
She sputters, “I hate you,” but in her vulnerably insatiable heat, she presents her forlorn inferno for his dissection.
“You demand pleasure,” Vegeta scoffs, “but soon you will pray for release.” He wraps the lamp cord into a tight ball and shoves it into her scurrilous scowl.
Rummaging roughly, Goku milks her horny clit in clumsy pinches, and she gurgles.
“We will destroy you, one orgasm at a time, until one blends into another and then another, on and on, forever.”
With each small stroke of Goku’s fingers, her lilting muffled pleas ramp louder and higher.
Vegeta breathes a heavy groan in her ear, “You will cum until your consciousness shatters across time, yet we will persist. You will cry for mercy—but a saiyan has none.”
Her limbs jump loose like live wires, muscles trembling with intensity, nearing absolution….
“Go on,” Goku bites, growling guttural, rattling her core: “Cum!”
She hisses again, drooling around the cord. Clenching her eyelids tight, she holds her breath and counts…
one,
two,
three:
Her face regains control, her trembling calms, and she takes a deep deliberate breath. Then another. That was close…, she thinks, too close.
“Did she cum?” Goku looks over.
She moans lightly, wiggling.
“Tch,” Vegeta yanks her, straddling, onto his lap. “She’s gambling on a bigger orgasm.”
“Pff,” Goku sneers, “I’m pounding her ass til sunup.”
Vegeta pins her wrists together, one-handed, “I warned you, woman,” and nods to Kakarotto.
Goku crouches behind her and reaches around, cupping her full breasts. “These are holdin’ up great.”
“MMPH!!” she mumbles furiously, but Vegeta interjects with a succinct lift of her puny body. He drop slams her, hard, onto his swollen power source. She howls throatily, squeezing her hung husband snug while her pussy pulses in time to choking heartbeats.
From behind, hangry Goku holds her cheeks, her puffed pussy lips spread open. “Oof,” he grunts, lines up his oversized shot and plunges—
“OY! Kakarotto,” Vegeta sputters, “where do you think you’re putting that?!”
“Don’t worry, I’m gonna go easy!”
Bulma spits out her gag. “Wrong hole, Son-kun! WRONG HOLE!!”
“Heheheh!” Giant Goku presses at her substantially plugged pussy and plies the prince’s pride for purchase.
Bulma releases a sickly stretched note, tracking the double dick-drilling progress. “It’s impossible!” she brays, “You’re splitting me in half!!”
She strangles on her words as regardless, Goku forces farther into her stubborn vagina, whetting Vegeta’s cocky blade.
“Angle the other way, idiot,” Vegeta gripes, wincing.
Goku chuffs, “Good idea,” and cocks his hips.
After all the torture I suffered in hell, Vegeta reminds himself, I can withstand anything….
Goku slaps her ass, watching as her pink lips cling when he pulls away and then, when he drives in again, as her white cream oozes around both cocks. Her cunt stretches tight, salaciously sucking their saiyan slabs.
Her sentience jettisons, jaw goes slack, and limbs limp as she embraces her fuck-doll destiny. Like a slutty baby doll, her mouth hangs open, but nothing comes out. Her joints plastic, her unnatural hair bounces as she takes their dicks within maximum machine tolerances. An emptyheaded bimbo fresh off the line, she needs only to be abused. Fearsome fire burns transformative, forging her silken sheath, consuming her with seething expectation. She hovers on each blink, bracing for destruction, building, burning, waiting, but instead, the fucking bastards simply squirm in s l o w motion.
Curt, “Faster!” she breaks the spell.
“Tch!” Vegeta flexes his dick, cocking her with an uppercut.
Her g-spot quivers into pudding, and Goku parries a thick clumsy thrust.
“Yah—,” she lets out oddly alto sounds, “—ohhh,” as cocks chopstick her noodle insides.
Slipping past Kakarotto’s tree trunk dick, Vegeta times his thrusts offbeat. He stuffs Bulma’s crushing gushing snatch and chews her nipple, shoving faster, but alongside, the idiot picks up his pace as well. She caterwauls between their impractical bodies, grinding and flexing on astronomical assaults.
“This cunt,” Goku puffs in quick breaths, “—sofuckin’tight.”
Vegeta grips her hips and mashes harder, racing with singular focus.
“Oh, yes,” she squeals, “yes! Keep going, I love youuu!”
“No, no,” Goku gaffs, squeezing his eyes shut, “ah, FUCK, I’m gonna blow.”
“StopstopSTOP,” Vegeta gurgles, prick twitching dangerously.
Bulma closes her eyes tight but her breathing hitches crazier, and she shouts, “I don’t think I can hold out any longer!!”
The brutes bellow in unison, “Th’ fuck did you just say?!”
Chapter 3
“Fuckin’ slut,” Goku glowing, growls as he steps back, stroking his chilling willy.
“No—no, wait!” Bulma’s voice echoes high.
“You’ve been indulged long enough,” Vegeta snaps, lifting her bare body from his cock.
She scoffs, “I’ll cum when I’m ready!” and flails, an angry kitten kicking and scratching to no avail.
“Your tricks end here, woman.” Tucking her like a mindless mannequin into the nook of his arm, he slides off the bed.
“Ohhh,” Goku starts putting the pieces together, “was she playin’ dumb all this time?”
“Hn,” Vegeta sneering, marches out onto his bedroom balcony.
He squeezes tighter ‘round her tiny waist, then he jumps the railing, jetting over the moonlit lawn in a golden blur.
Goku leaps a few lumbering steps and then dives into the air after them—the streaking saiyan’s destination lying just around the corner.
Vegeta lands abruptly, in front of a modern industrial sphere: his gravity room.
Shook and disheveled, Bulma dangles tangled at his side, “What’s going on?”
Goku lands beside them, “I’m guessin’ something great,” he grins.
The prince pecks a panel, unlocking the door, “A true saiyan has no limits, not pain, certainly not attachment.” Stepping inside, he dumps Bulma on the floor and swiftly assumes position at the center console.
Goku follows, and the door shuts behind him.
Vegeta presses a button, and the white walls blink to red. “Five times Earth should be a good start,” he chuckles softly.
“Heheh,” Goku feels gravity’s delicate pull in a prickle of a power pole-exciting flash. He circles Bulma, savoring her in sidesteps.
“What are you overinflated meatheads doing?” she puffs, prone, struggling to lift the great weight of her noggin, but she senses the final flimsy cords of her control slip.
Crudely naked, beaming unbridled super saiyan ki, their thick, exaggerated bodies reflect the room’s gory glow, casting monstrous shadows. Posture perfect, Vegeta nods to Kakarotto.
Goku nods back and takes a few steps aside. He snaps his arms out in something of a sideways salute. The prince mirrors the pose, both warriors scowling with intent.
Bulma can’t watch what happens next, but she hears their synchronized shuffling of feet—and gruff crooning…!
With soft slaps, their dicks flop side-to-side against beastly thighs as the two beautifully bloated bodies pop in sculpted form. As they extend their arms into final position, they connect fingertip to fingertip and—FWOOSH!—they disappear into a flash of twirling light and energy. The room harmonizes with a hungry hum and sucks in extraneous ki. Panels rattle.
“What’s going on with you two?!” Bulma shouts at the churning swirl.
From the fog, a single lumbering figure emerges with vest sleeve-caps puffing in the air, muscles ludicrous, skin radiant, and one big bombastic boner, a fucking pillar, pointing straight at her.
Harmony in twin layers vibrates through another dimension:
“I am neither Goku nor Vegeta.”
He steps towards her with wide sluggish strides, his tremendous set of nuts swaying with each swaggering sweep of swollen thighs.
“I am he who will destroy you.”
Sweat slicks her face, grounded grating fear churns her gut—her little labia tingle with excitement.
“This is my first time,” he cracks his neck, “and we’ve only got twenty-nine minutes left.”
She hears his bare feet slap across the floor then squeak, as the behemoth pirouettes a U-turn.
In a lion’s leap, he dives dick-first at her defenseless rear, ramming her gash like a rude shish kabob rod. He barks, “Bitch, cum,” and instantly her body obeys!
Negating all her disciplined edging, the careful timing, she screams capitulation as her pussy pulse, pulse, pulses. Musculoskeletal electrical surges discharge from her fingertips, sphincters and toes, through calcium of phalanges and myosins of muscle.
“Still love Vegeta and Son now?” Gogeta sneers.
Incoherent, Bulma gurgles, snatch screwed firmly ‘round his cataclysmic battering ram.
“Don’t worry,” he smirks, “mighty Gogeta-sama will fuck ‘em from your memory.”
Sitting, he lifts her and plops her square on his erect lap, holding her gelatin body upright. Her voice wavers, and she tries in vain to wiggle away.
He grunts at her silly struggles and pumps his hips lightning fast, asking her for neither consent nor effort.
“Slow… down,” she pants with leaded lids.
>> Ya better be careful…, a voice in his head says.
>> Bastard, another voice booms, she’s MINE!
“Hmph!” grinning, Gogeta croons, “I’ll give you something to cry about.” Pounding, he shoves a pained cry from her throat. No snatch on Earth could prepare for his stretch, this cervical cruelty.
Bulma feels his cock ripple against her womb, “No!” she shouts, “Don’t cum inside!”
“Shhh,” he kisses her tenderly, thrusting savagely; she wiggles harder. He howls, and with a bristling surge of bright ki, he blasts his thick yack to the back of her box.
“Ass hole!!” she shrills with strength mustered from jetting jizz.
Unfettered by her protest, he pulls out and wipes his nuclear dick across her thigh, SIZZzzz.
She cries, desperately fighting gravity to scoop goop from her cooch. The mushroom stamped into her otherwise perfect skin inspires him, so he snaps an impromptu pic.
“My first creampie—Roshi’ll love it,” he sends the text before tossing the phone.
He slides a finger down Bulma’s soft jaw and tips her chin up. He wags his finger, “You gotta keep every drop.” In a fierce golden flash, he backhands her.
She groans in a floored heap.
“I am the ultimate fusion,” he steps on her forearm, pinning her gratuitously to the ground, and leans over, “you are gonna populate this pathetic place with my spawn.”
WHACK, he lights her ass up with a single lick, and she yelps. He kicks her knees apart and grabs his balls, “I’m going till these fat monkey nuts run dry.”
“But…,” Bulma croaks, her fleshy thighs quivering as he probes her weeping snatch, “how can you still be hard?”
“Look at yourself,” he spits, “all splayed out, you’re beggin’ to breed.”
Like a DJ before scratching, or studious reader before page-flipping, he quick flicks a pair of fingers down his heavy tongue and reaches around her. In devious deliberation, he plays her pussy, diddling up-down her mound, delicately twisting her hungry bit—protruding in greedy demand.
She cries softly, dissolving in pleasure-pain while a deeper climax gathers strength between her legs.
Gogeta stands, lifting Bulma, and props her up on the console, right on top of the controls. His prick pierces her puss, and she gasps. With each primal piston pump, her body presses INCREASE, and the number on the display ticks up. He dick-digs deeper and grins, gravity grinding her harder each second. He inhales her sticky intoxication. “Those fools always fall for your dumb act,” he mutters, “but that ends here.”
“Who are you?” she whimpers.
“I’m your ultimate fantasy.” He squints, “And I know your secret.”
She bites her lip, blushing.
“You made such a fucking racket that night; Vegeta couldn’t train. He stormed in stinking, sweaty, bruised, bleeding—angry and frustrated.”
She clutches her soft breasts, breathing heavy.
“He unleashed on you, and you loved it, filthy whore. Finally! A man you couldn’t intimidate, one with bigger balls than you.”
Her skin erupts, her trench quakes.
“When he ripped your panties and pinned you down, you transformed, right?” he twists her flush nipples. “Broke your limit. You didn’t know it was possible to cum so many times at once!”
“Vegeta…,” she flashes back to that night, when he Captain-Hook-dick massaged her cunt to kingdom come—
“Smelly bitch, CUM!”
She explodes, “YES!” beholden to the ruthless hulk. She crashes with the suspension of judgment and base logic. She possesses chattel’s rapture, simply serving the master who is impossible to please and absurd to resist. His daggers of disappointment had been her only nourishment; true ecstasy brings pure insanity, nearly impossible to parse. She weeps.
Oblivious, he huffs as he pumps.
His powerful pleasure tortures and tears her asunder, and she bleats, “No more!” Orgasm after orgasm assaults her muddled neurons. Weakening more with each crash, she milks his massive phallus with near-alien force, and her body convulses.
His hybrid brain and her humped muff flood as their confluences smash, swirling invisibly in quantum vibrations, like ripples blooming, undulating, churning, flowing in lacey waves through marble.
“A lot of people hate me,” Gogeta fucks with beastly fervor, “but still they imitate me!” and he roars, unleashing his largest, longest load yet. His testicles twinge, shooting zillions of invading saiyan sperm. Then, POW! in an overpowered and glittering Saturn bomb rainbow explosion, he splits apart—back into Goku and Vegeta—as his transcendental bubble of time collapses, overloading the gravity system.
The room powers down in a sickly, very broken, sound.
Smoke clears, and Bulma, an oozing cum-dump baby saiyan incubator covered in crimson mushroom stamps, lies curled on the white floor. The two guys stand dumbfounded with bodies shrunken to normal beefiness and hair black again.
Goku crouches and takes a loud sniff. “You smell so ripe,” he cheeses, “I can’t resist freaky heat!” He winks to Vegeta then yawns.
“What’s he talking about?” she sits up, straightening her hair.
“Tch,” Vegeta turns away, “How should I know?”
She frowns, “Is he saying that it’s super obvious when you fuck me all day?” she glares, “HMM? That you all know I’m ovulating?”
Vegeta grimaces, “… You reek from here to the other side of the city.”
Bulma chuffs, “So does your ki. I knew you liked fusing with Son-kun.”
“You really hit where it hurts…,” Vegeta mumbles pathetically.
“You’re a good guy, Vegeta,” Goku murmurs, stretching out in a nude nap. “That’s why she loves ya.”
“Fucking bastard, goddammit!”
Bulma holds a phone to her ear. “They’re not as brainless as they look,” she raps the table. “They should have at least given me a senzu bean; I had to sit on frozen peas for a week.”
She switches the phone to her other ear, listening. “Well, duh, it was amazing; I’ve never cum so many times. But you know saiyans…!”
She sighs. “Yeah, the only variable I missed was the semen—no earthly control blocks that.” She rubs her belly, “I get to name her, though. I’m thinking Bra.”