The sunlight streamed into my eyes, the irritating wake up call, the dastardly reminder of what I'd done. It seemed to pry my very lids apart, screaming green light seeping between my lashes. I moved a hand to shade it from my eyes, peeling them apart to see that the haunting green light had flooded Bulma's room, trickling like water over her slick sheets.
I blinked, trying to understand just why the light was such a rotten, wicked green rather than that of a morning sun. Forcing my eyes open again, I recoiled quickly, yanking the covers over myself and Bulma, blinded by the emerald light but not enough to forget what I'd seen.
Someone was in the room. And they were standing right in front of this bed.
My breath came in horrible gasps, until I was light headed, afraid to open my eyes and paralyzed with the fear that it was exactly who I expected it to be. Like a young child hiding beneath their blankets all night, unable to move for fear they'll draw attention to themselves. I gripped the thin sheets tighter, feeling the weight of Bulma, hearing her heavy breathing, unable to understand how she could ignore the terrible flood of green light that had all but shaken me awake.
I sat up, opening my eyes when a large shadow covered over them, my deepest fears confirmed. Vegeta stood there, a black outline of a man standing before the lights that streamed past him, only the anger on his face apparent. But it wasn't Vegeta was it? It was someone else that looked like him. A shorter, less beautiful version, with longer hair and a fury I'd rarely seen Vegeta display.
I squinted my eyes as the light brightened in a flicker, my heart skipping a beat when Vegeta's body began to fade, as if solid one moment and air the next, the green light darkening and lightening as he appeared and disappeared. But his eyes were always there, even when his body had faded to a mere foggy outline beneath him. And they were staring at me with a hatred I couldn't describe to you even if the words existed to do it justice.
"You." I heard him breath, though it seemed his mouth had never moved. "I am going to KILL you!"
I backed away, my back flat against the head board, trying to get further away as it seemed he drifted closer.
"No," I shook my head, trying to recall the familiar words "its not what it looks like"! "Vegeta, I swear I….."
But it was as if he couldn't hear me, coming closer and closer, his arms stretched out to me, his eyes blazing with anger and green light that was slowly flooding through them as he faded.
"I told you never to touch her!!" His satanic voice screamed, his hands holding me. I sucked in air for the greatest cry I could muster, staring in horror at his hands which were now nothing more than rotted, festering flesh and pale bones peeking through from underneath.
"One devoured by the ground," I felt him whisper, as if his mouth were against my ear. "Another spat out from hell."
"GOKU!!"
Tiny nails bit into my arm, my eyes flying open to see Bulma laying over me, tears streaming down her cheeks.
"Please baby breathe!" she screamed, sobbing as she pushed repeatedly on my chest. "Breathe God damn you!"
I took her small wrist firmly in my hand startling her. She fell backwards, tumbling off the bed, grabbing at the covers to conceal herself. We simply sat there staring at one another, our breathing as labored as it had been during sex, staring at each other. Knowing what they other was thinking, we turned away, deciding that we alone would come to grips with the horrible mistake we'd made.
The dream had washed away the guilt for the time being and I held myself for a second, trying to slow my heart that remained thrashing around in my chest. The smell of his rotted breath was still in my nostrils, the feel of clammy, dead skin holding onto my wrists so strong that I couldn't help but stare at them, expecting to see a film of filth and gore still rung around them.
"You were having a seizure." Bulma said simply, noticing my despair and confusion.
I looked up at her, sick with myself suddenly, sick with her. I swallowed hard, the pressure from my guilt building within until I flipped my legs over the side of the bed and simply looked for my clothes. One pant leg at a time, I refused to look at her, even as I felt her eyes on me incessantly.
This time, there was no one to blame but me. Bulma hadn't even wanted it, as I came at her with an irrefutable invitation, taking advantage of a drunken mind. I wished I could hate her, blame her, blame Vegeta even (for no reason at all) but that was the travesty of this situation in particular. I could only blame myself.
And so I pushed the guilt away as I had done a thousand times before and marked this off as just another catapult into freedom.
Little did I know, I would be catapulting myself into Bulma much too often in the weeks that followed.
_______________________________________________________
Sex. I was insatiable, filled with a hunger, a lust that I'd never experienced before, humbling even Vegeta with my raw desire for it all. There were days when he would push me off, casting me aside just to prove once again, that he had all the control and my sudden taste for the sin was by no means an obligation for him to sedate it.
And there were others when I awoke in the morning, averaging about an hour of sleep, and simply flew over to his mansion. More often than not these days, I ended up tossing several partners out of bed before waking him up and demanding what I wanted again.
You gave me the drug, Vegeta. You made me an addict. Now? You've got a habit to support.
It was the unquenchable thirst. The wound that would never clot. And I delved into it more often with Bulma than even Vegeta did.
How did it all start that there came to be this secret affair between her and I? I gave you the first preview, more than explicit enough to satisfy your human curiosity. But to try and explain this new obsession with her? I cant. That's the curse and the beauty of writing your own story. There are things that are so powerful, words cannot describe them. And then, there are things that are so strange, you haven't a clue as to how exactly you can justify it.
Maybe I had meant to apologize, to clear things up. Maybe I wanted to insure that this was a one time deal and forever to be a secret between us. Maybe, in a man's heart, I just wanted to see her again.
But I flew to her balcony window, still sticky with Vegeta's sweat and saliva, the smell of seamen and sex still mingling around me (though only a Saiyan would have detected it so well). She lay inside, sprawled out ungracefully all over her bed, Vegeta's old pack of expensive cigarettes laying out on the night stand.
Walking over, I clumsily knocked over a fresh bottle of unopened liquor, kicking the glass container onto the hard wood floor. Bulma stirred beneath the large comforter, shivering from the cold wind that flew in through the open balcony door, courtesy of big bumbling idiot, yours truly. I sat beside her, running my hand through her hair as she adjusted to my being there, not a word passing between us.
"Beautiful Goku," She whispered, closing her eyes as I stroked her cheek. I wanted to kiss her, the same reaction I almost always get around her, leaning in slightly before she opened her eyes accusingly.
"Why did you come Goku?" she asked harshly. She spread her legs apart beneath the bedspread, offering the sweet temptation with a detachment Vegeta himself would have been proud of. "Is this what you want?"
I looked at her in shame, turning away as she threw off the blanket, revealing tiny white panties between bruised thighs.
"Is this what you came for? Returning with a sum of money to your willing whore once again?! Is that what I AM to you?!" she flung her hands into the air, raking the nails through her stringy hair. "Your whore on the side?! Your BITCH?!"
I let a wicked smirk pass over my features.
"Not at all," I grinned. "you'd be surprised how many of them I already have."
"That's not funny," she hissed, hugging her knees to her chest. "What does this make of me Goku? I…….. I SLEPT with a married man! In the time of what very well could be the end of my existence, I committed adultery with my best friend, who just HAPPENS to be the husband of my other best friend!"
Tears came to her eyes and she buried them against her shivering arms, her shoulders beginning to convulse with her sobs.
"I look in the mirror, and I see a monster," she bawled. "I don't even recognize that face anymore. I see something that's empty, and void, and evil. Where I once thought there was strength, I only see weakness. When I thought that MAYBE just MAYBE there was something in me worth while; something…." She sobbed, "pure a-a-and good; I just proved how quickly I could make it all wrong again. My father was right all those years. I'm a worthless piece of nothing. I'm nothing Goku."
"I don't want to talk about this," I sighed, moving towards her on the bed and forcing her head down to the pillow. "I didn't come here for answers or questions about what we did. I'm not trying to pass blame or seek any sort of absolution for it. I just wanted to see you. And…."
I paused, staring down at her face, clean of all makeup and streaked with tears. By God, if she wasn't one of the most beautiful creations in this world, then I truly didn't know beautiful. Her lips were soft pink, dried and cracked in the middle, but so brilliantly designed that I dreamed of kissing them again, kissing her eyelids, her cheeks, her nose and that wonderful crevice in the middle of her collarbone.
"And I wanted to talk about your father," I said, lowering my eyes to see her reaction. "I want you to tell me more."
"Well isn't that typical," she huffed, grabbing the covers and pulling them over her. "Why?"
"Why not?" I answered. "Call it human curiosity, the strange desire to know what will hurt us to understand. Call it sick fascination, concern or just the painful willingness to share your pain. I want to know it though, and I can't understand it anymore than I can deny it."
"Ah yes, everyone loves a sob story," She spat disdainfully. "Everybody FUCKING loves to know that someone else had it worse then them. You want to know it all huh?! Every GORY fucking detail!"
She pushed my shoulders back, throwing the covers off with one violent motion and flying to her feet.
"You want to know how often he did it?! How many times he fucking beat the shit out of me?! Out of my mom?! Well FUCK you!" She bawled, throwing her fists against me. "Fuck YOU Goku!"
She nearly collapsed against the bed, instead yanking away from me and throwing on her pants.
"I'm NOT going to be your little community service! You're a fucking saint who wants to feel like he's done his "GOOD" deed for the day. Well you can forget it," she hissed, pulling a shirt over her head. "I'm not your fucking pity case."
"Bulma," I sighed in exasperation. "You KNOW I didn't mean it that way, I-.."
"I don't CARE…. how you meant it Goku," she cried, looking away from me. "I don't care if you were just…. curious or….. or just concerned or whatever. This is my life," She pointed to herself. "MY life Goku. You're basically asking me to just throw out my life story like its some page in a novel. Well, I'm NOT like that."
"Like what?"
"I'm not…" She sighed, sitting down on the bed, pulling her shirt over her stomach. "I'm not the type of person who can just throw out their memories like paragraphs in some story. I'm not the type of person who just gives out private information for just anyone not even you. This is my PAIN Goku! And you're…. you're degrading it."
"I'm NOT degrading it," I insisted. "I'm sorry. I'm being insensitive but…. Bulma, try to understand. I've been in the dark about this for years. Due to my OWN stupidity YOU suffered because I was too blind to see through him. Can you understand that I mean well in this? Bulma I…."
I suddenly caught myself, about to say the unthinkable to her. Three words. Not for any selfish reason, not for any amount of information… but because I really did love her.
"I just want to understand." I breathed, putting my hands through her hair. "I want to know you. You, Bulma. Not your dad, not Vegeta, not anyone. Just you. More than anything I've ever known. I want the beauty, I want the pain, I want the joy, and I want your sorrows. Because I want them as my own."
She looked at me as I'd never seen her look, her throat contorting as she swallowed.
"Do you…" she blinked down a tear. "Do you really mean that?"
"With all my heart," I promised, cupping her tiny hands in my own.
The sex was stupendous, mind blowing and hard like it had been earlier that week. I was soaked in her, my skin drenched in her cum as I slide in and out, raising my head to breathe and moan sick little fantasies into her ears. She tightened her vagina muscles in tune with my thrusting pelvis, the tiny, wet hole clenching like a slippery little fist over my cock.
My eyelids flickered, my mouth hanging open as she made her fingers into a V shape, pressing them around my shaft as I pounded into her, the sex that much sweeter, that much tighter. I was in ecstasy, burying my face in her neck as I lifted one leg over my shoulder, making her scream in that painful, desperate way. Like a dying enemy, screaming for mercy, so frantically that it was almost sexual when you put them out of their misery.
I drove into her like a knife sliding into an enemy's gut, feeling her vagina's end and trying to plunge up even further. She was crying, but telling me to go harder all the same, as if to say, 'punish me…… I deserve it'. So I made it hurt.
The hole only got wetter as blood appeared around my shaft, both of our eyes staring down as I slid into her again and again, my cock soaked in dark red. At this point, I propped both her feet over my shoulders, throwing her into laying position while I basically bared down into her body with a force I'd never displayed on a woman.
I could feel tearing of tissues, muscles and veins snapping as I threw my rock hard tip against them. "Kill it." Something told me. "Kill her womb." I closed my eyes to the sensation, hearing her painful screams like a distant memory, like a far away echo.
But something stopped me, like a snap in my subconscious. Something I'm not going to try and explain here, for fear, (or rather, certainty) that your final verdict of me would be legally insane. I couldn't do it. Maybe it was my love for her, my respect, or just my old friend "conscience" back to pay an inopportune visit. I don't know if there was any real underlining reasons besides the fact that I realized I was SERIOUSLY hurting her and refused to succumb to my animalistic instincts.
I took her face into my hands, rubbing away the tears and the anguish that had twisted and perverted her beautiful appearance. Not a word passing between us, I pushed into her again, lightly this time, moving in a slow pace. In and out, in and out, our breathing kept in time, our hearts pounding against each other.
Pulling her mouth to mine, I kissed her, something I'd hardly done during sex at all recently. With Chi Chi's abstinence in bed and Vegeta's out right refusal to show actions pertaining to anything BUT violent sex, it was a wonder I even remembered how to do it! I slid my hands beneath her soaking wet back, holding her close in a hug as I finished off right inside her, kissing her eyelids as she quaked with her own finale.
I don't think I've ever cummed that much in my entire lifetime! It was like a faucet turning on without a way to make it stop! I could feel the heat of my sperm cover over every torn muscle and bruised vaginal wall, sinking deep inside of her. Thank God for the packet of Birth Control Pills I had seen on her countertop.
And so began our ruinous affair, my second behind Chi Chi's back and this one being even more shameless than the last. Because for what it was worth, Vegeta had a fair amount of control over what I did. But Bulma? Well, if you ask me.. she had very little part in this.
I would visit her during the day, checking to be sure Vegeta was far away (doing God knows what with God knows who) and then I would slip through her balcony window and make love to her. Yes. Make love. That corny, mushy, pathetic little term that makes your stomach churn. But I don't think you appreciate it till you've done it.
Just like its so easy for a virgin to discriminate against a sexual explicit individual, its easy to scorn the idea of "making love", even the phrase itself. Because when you're an avid "fucker" like me and Vegeta were, then terms and sentences like THAT, don't exist. They're looked down upon; shunned, mocked, dismissed. Ah, but for what it was worth, I loved every moment of this new sensation.
Because making love to Bulma was NOTHING like it'd been with Chi Chi. Nothing. Bulma would be active in it, positioning me the way she wanted it, forcing me beneath her and wrapping her thighs over my stomach. I would watch her with fascination, absolutely SHOCKED that it was truly her that was clenching my shaft so hard with that tiny vagina, riding me up and down.
It was excruciatingly slow, but lasted for blissful hours, all of which would leave me exhausted, but satisfied. Ok ok, not AS satisfied as with Vegeta, I'm never going to try to fool you into that. You know my weakness, so why I'm being an ass and trying to cover over it now is beyond me. Simply put, she was my soft serve sex and Vegeta? Well, I laugh, Vegeta was something else entirely.
And while you might think my conscience bothered me to the point of torture, you'd be wrong. Because that's the beauty of sinning. With each one, you're dulled. You become more and more insensitive to it, your conscience numb to the point of hibernation. And that? That's when the real fun begins. And so rather than deal with guilt, I simply pawned it off on Kakarot. After all, the hero of the story Goku would have NEVER done any of this.
Beneath the hours of ecstasy, beneath the clenched fists and thrusting pelvises, there always awaited the rising of Sin. It had ceased to be any sort of negotionable idea and was now a blatant reality. I couldn't stop it anymore than I could understand it. So I ignored it, simply put.
But it didn't take long for Sin to stop ignoring me.
