Bakunyuu Mama Juuhachi-go to /ss/ Dekigoto

BY : Tastatura
Category: -Misc Anime > AU - Alternate Universe
Dragon prints: 29401
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. This is a fictional story. I do not own Dragon Ball or Dragon Ball Z. I make no money from writing this. Any resemblance to person(s) living or dead is purely coincidental. Love your pal Jesus.

For hours on end, Son-Goku’s eyes had been held shut by a combination of fatigue and medication. Through their influence, his body had appeared locked within an extremely comfortable and uneventful sleep. 48 hours into their introduction, the influence that they exerted thinned to the point of irrelevance. At the top of the 49th, both his eyes shot open to expose his surroundings to him, and again thrust his mind into a semblance of the fight or flight distress it had endured prior to his losing consciousness.

 

Lurching upright, his first instinct was to arrange his hands and feet into a combat stance. Following through with this instinct proved difficult. The ‘ground’ beneath him was a soft and buoyant rectangle of bedding unconducive for sudden flips, and at present, only one of his arms were free for use.

 

It was after this failure that it became apparent to him that there was no longer an explicit need for combat preparation.

 

Surrounding him was a room—one familiar, pale-white, and most importantly, vacant.  Simple furniture (the majority of which he could not recognize) and doors directly in front of and off to his left comprised its contents from where he sat. As he took in these features, a quiet hiss of cool air from the outside world revealed the presence of a window to his right.

 

Soon enough, part of his circumstance began making sense.

 

“Must’ve been th’sun. Sleepin’ forever when it starts beatin’ down on your face is pretty tough!” he thought aloud.

 


Somehow calmed by the realization, he slipped his legs over to the vacant left edge of the mattress and hopped from it as any other youth might. Again, his doing so immediately dropped his line of sight down into a visual survey of his body.

 

“I guess my shoes are gone…” absent from his feet were the black gi-flats that typically completed his outfits. In their place were simple white socks. “I wonder what this thing on my arm is, though?” thinking aloud, he raised the casted limb from out of the sleeve at his neck. A look at its composition made it seem a form of entrapment meant to be broken, though upon contracting the muscles of the limb that it covered, a sharp and intricate pain reminded him of its actual purpose. “Oh yeah! It’s one’na those things that help your bones heal when they get broken!” he commented.

 

Now completely satisfied with the state of his simply dressed frame, he began a hurried stride toward the door nearest to him. Upon discerning its contents (bathroom fixtures often used by Bulma), his comfort with his surroundings increased as well. Immediately backtracking, he burst from the door at the foot of the room with a confidence that implied his knowing precisely what existed on the other side.

 

Through it, thoughts as to the events that had occurred prior to his losing consciousness began flowing into his mind. The initial seconds of this hurried recollection returned his mind to the destruction of his wrist, and the physical trouncing he had received directly afterwards. By the time he arrived within the house’s compact living room, most all of the details concerning his defeat (save the most important ones) had returned to him.

 

“It was that lady with the yellow hair! I got beat up by her, and after that…” hand at chin, a considerable ‘blank’ in his memory prevented him from piecing together the situation in its entirety. “I dunno. She seemed to only be after me, so I guess Bulma is prolly ok…”

 

While ‘thinking’ was far from his speciality, uttering these words aloud tickled his mind’s subverted sense of inconsistency.

 

“But wait…” peering around the living room from left to right, he continued his walk through it at a much slower pace. “This is Bulma’s house thingy, right? How come I haven’t seen her in here?”

 

Circling around from the living room into the uniform interior’s kitchenette, a blast of heated air chock full of familiar scents reminded the boy of the emptiness of his stomach. Though his breathing in this air drew from a well of saliva from the corner of his mouth, his expression did not contort to match this pleasantness.

 

At the core of the kitchen—the source of the scent as far as he could tell—stood the only point of reference between this day and his last.

 

And she was frowning.

-

HOW TO FUCK UP EVERYONE’S LIFE EXCEPT YOUR OWN—BY ANDROID 18

 

Situated opposite the oven that Goku had laid eyes on was an apron-clad and visually ‘enamoured’ Android 18. Standing opposite heating elements consumed by a combination of skillets with an expression mixed between boredom and frustration, one could infer that the food items sizzling ahead of her were her own doing.

 

Far more difficult to imagine as coming from her (for the scarce few familiar with the woman at least) was the attire draped, or otherwise clinging to the ample proportions offered by her frame.

 

Underneath a white-apron emblemized with the words ‘CAPSULE MAMA’ at its chest section, her outfit consisted of a pair of Capri-cut and form-fitting black leggings and a familiar, bust-swelled black crewneck long sleeve. In the case of the former, her standing position in front of the oven framed its grasp of her lower body as just short of skin-tight. Whereas the peak of her hips still bled through the fabric itself, the exposed pale curvature depicted throughout the inward slant of her crotch could not be seen.


From the side, of course. Given the exposure of her lower calves and ankles, and more saliently, the contents of her disposition, it was not unreasonable to imagine far more flesh as being ‘visible’ underneath her apron.

 

The latter garment (her stretched crew-neck) added a suggestive, yet equally ‘homely’ touch to her appearance.  Without its denim accompaniments, the primarily-black garment again drew attention toward the well-fed and near-impossibly-large swell of her bust. Even after the secondary coverage provided by her apron, the extent to which the massive orbs sloped over her front and the youthful ‘height’ at which they did so again called back to her status as an altered human. Among other things.

 

Nevertheless, with its sleeves rolled up to her elbows, the garment organized at her torso was far from inaccessible. Impossible to mimic in effect, but objectively simple to reproduce.

 

Like any other woman preordained to wear clothing in a manner unlike most others, 18 did not stand by the oven with an overt awareness of her appearance. Really, the only thing that she stood with was a visible distaste for the activity she had chosen to engage in.

 

Exhaling, she disrupted her silent observation of the meal in progress with an interjection of her right hand, and a flipping of one of the fried eggs she had sizzling to her right.

 

“I can honestly see why no one cooks in this day and age…” she muttered to herself. “With pre-made capsule meals, is there even any need to bother? I probably should’ve just gone over to that Bulma girl’s house and stocked up while I had the chance…”

 

Lamenting her own laziness, the ghostly-blue of her eyes bore into the food below her with an increased frustration. As soon as it appeared was as soon as it dissipated; evidently, some part of her had long since come to terms with the monotony of cooking.

 

“Well, that’s the past for you. It’d be weird if I didn’t at least ‘try’ to fit in while I’m here. As far as anyone else knows, I’m just some boring little housewife who lives on the edge of some boring little street. The gaudier a life I live is the more attention I’ll attract to myself.” reasoning aloud, her facial expression steadily softened back into one of un-amused sternness. With this came an idle flip of the bangs that hung to the side of her face, and another quiet exhalation.

 

“I’m not going to be able to help it in every case, though. I was designed to be pretty ideal, but perfection in every aspect would come off as a little weird for a housewife…”

 

“Especially with such an energetic kid running around.”

 

The final portion of her utterance was directed towards the youth cutting through the air to her side. Though they were uttered toward the sole of his foot, the smirk that appeared on her face throughout its release did not fade.

 

Its timing was super human. The moment 18’s lips closed, the slightest shift of her torso took her face out of the trajectory of Goku’s extended foot. Within the same instance, her left hand shot upwards to seal its palm around his ankle. Subsequently, all of the momentum and energy placed behind the kick died, and its executor was again left to dangle helplessly from one of his limbs.

 

Partly amused and annoyed, 18 shot a much laxer version of her usual stare down at her housemate’s inverted features.

 

“Good morning to you too.” she began, smirking. “I’m going to need you on your feet for the next little while, so as easy as it would be for me to put your leg in a cast as well, I can’t at the moment. That said, I know for a fact that you’re not the type of person to take mercy from an opponent without somehow fussing about it.”

 

“So…”

 

Smoothly, she tossed Goku’s frame upward as if what her palm contained was a softball and not an ankle. Influencing her toss in such a way that brought his frame to a horizontal hover ahead of hers, she purposed his second-long stay in midair to draw her arm into a bend at its elbow.  Pinpointing his diaphragm, she spiked her elbow down against it to both wind and floor his frame against the kitchen floor—all without more than a *THUD* in extraneous noise.

 

Taking the burst of saliva from his maw as a sign of success, she listlessly shifted back towards the oven to finish with the preparation of their meal.

 

“There. You’ve lost twice now, so you should understand that fighting isn’t going to get you out of this.” she added. “That’s probably a little difficult for you to swallow, but I’m sure you’ve run into some people strong than you by now, right?”

 

Only half-conscious after the forced voiding of oxygen from his lungs, Goku failed to produce a response that was not muddled by a wheeze or cough.  His ears had heard his opponent very clearly, however, and as she had spoken in terms that he was capable of understanding, his view of his current situation adjusted to match her suggestion.

Though he had felt intent to kill from her once before, the woman above him was not someone that he could best in combat. Further attempts at doing so were likely to lead to his death, which left observation and training as his best options for success.

 

When finally his breathing normalized and a sufficient amount of oxygen returned to his brain, he followed up on this line of thinking with an inquiry.

 

“W-Who are ya anyway?” he asked.

 

18, having plated the majority of the food on the oven by this point, responded first with a turn down toward the youth, and afterwards with a bend of her torso down towards him. Ignorant (or indifferent) to the menacing approach of her bust towards his face, she picked his frame up via the collar of his shirt, and began carrying him towards the non-descript white table situated at the corner of the room.

 

“Call me 18. I’ve told you that once before, so if you forget again, you’re on your own.” she replied.

 

Still dazed, an addled astonishment brightened Goku’s features.

 

“Woah! Y’mean like the number or somethin’?” he inquired. “I didn’t know y’could get that strong jus’ by countin’!”

 

Made to smile against her ‘usual’ sense of humor, 18 halted her approach, and again granted her housemate eye contact.

 

“Sure, let’s go with that.”

 

With this, she again raised Goku’s frame. This time hurling him forward, she delivered his frame into one of the dining table’s chairs with yet more of her characteristic indifference.

 

Unperturbed by his impact with the seat, Goku’s focus remained locked on 18’s body all throughout his flight and even after it. As he flew, she could be seen moving back towards the stove. Once upright again, she appeared to be moving back towards the table—this time with several plates in hand.

 

Suddenly, he recalled his hunger. Drooling once again, his attention finally shifted from his ‘opponent’ to the food that she seemed to be carrying. A plethora of steaming breakfast dishes produced in apparent excess for the miniature child they were meant to feed were eventually spread out across the table space ahead of him.

 

Without hesitation, he extended his left hand towards them. Just prior to the tip of his finger making contact with a fried egg, his combat instincts froze the limb in place and reminded him of the individual now seated ahead of him. Eyeing her warily, he waited in this petrified state until the sound of her voice drew a nervous throb through his chest.

 

“Go ahead and eat.”  18 started. “I made all of it for you; I can eat whenever I feel like it.”

 

Goku took this invitation to the fullest extent of its meaning.  One after another, fried eggs and various slices of meat and pancake were seamlessly shoveled past his lips. For a moment, his pace surprised even the woman who had prepared the spread for him. Willing herself to recall his race and the extent to which she had exhausted him days prior, she eventually shrugged off the sight with a sigh and a good natured smile.

 

Biding her time until the size of his cheeks demanded he stop to chew, she selected this moment as her chance to speak.

 

“So, now you know who I am. I know who you are already, so you don’t have to introduce yourself. “she started.

 

Nodding his head, Goku concurred.

 

“Good. Now then…” raising both of her hands level with her chest in a deliberative posture, 18 smiled a smile both captivating and somehow too-sweet to be ‘right’. “Your whole thing right now is getting stronger, right? You want to get as strong as possible and fight as many strong people as you can?” she inquired.

 

Again, Goku nodded.

 

“Well, right now, I’m the strongest person on this planet. I think you’ve fought all of the people beneath me by now—none of them came even close, right?”

 

Momentarily pensive, Goku again produced a nod.

 

“So, feel free to correct me if I’m wrong, but you’ve got it in your head at this point that the best thing for you to do right now is to train against me so you can become stronger yourself, correct?”

 

Finally swallowing his mouthful, Goku grinned.  “Y’sure are smart, lady! That’s exactly what I wanna do, yeah! I dunno why you wanted t’kill me before, but if you don’t still wanna do that, I was hopin’ you could teach me how to get as strong as you!”

 

With this, 18’s smile became more sinister. Still, the warm and loving qualities it maintained remained as prevalent as ever.

 

“In that case, you’re really in the best place you possibly could be. Your wrist may be broken, but as it turns out, I’ve been meaning to take on a disciple or two for the past little while.” she replied.

 

“Really!?”

 

“Really. I don’t accept just anyone, but I might just be willing to help a cute little brat like you out…

 

“Under certain conditions, of course.”

 

Exercising his renowned ability to make light of the past, Goku shut his eyes and smiled earnestly. Afterwards, he raised his good hand into a confident pump at his chest.

 

“That’s great! Whatever I gotta do, I’ll try my best t’do it!” he replied. “What is it, though? Is it like a test or somethin’?”

 

Shaking her head, the blonde set her hands back down onto her lap, and leaned back into her chair to begin relax.

 

“No, nothing like that.” now, a hint of slyness could be heard in her voice. “I prefer to get started with my students as soon as possible, so it’s more of a simple little agreement.” she explained. “From now on, you just have to listen to what I say. It doesn’t matter what it is; if I ask you to do it, you just need to do it.”

 

Wary, but in no way averse to submitting himself to the directions of others, Goku raised an eyebrow at 18’s suggestion.

 

“Anything?”

 

“Yes, anything. Of course I’d never ask you do to do something you didn’t feel right doing…” 18 replied. “If I somehow end up asking something like that, you’re welcome to quit at any time.”

 

Goku did not spend long considering his options. Per usual, his attention remained glued to the overwhelming strength that 18 had brandished to disable him. Such strength was not only impressive, but in his eyes, very alluring.

 

“’Kay! I’ll try my best!” he affirmed.  “I’m kinda bad when it comes t’complicated stuff, so if I don’t get something right the first time, just explain with simple words n’stuff an’ I’ll prolly get.”

 

“That’s a good boy ♥. As long as you agree, everything will work out fine.”

 

Resuming her warm smiling, 18 raised a finger to point at the remainder of Goku’s meal.

 

“Anyway, why don’t you finish eating? We’ve got a long day ahead of us, and I don’t intend to have it held up…because you’re hungry.” she suggested.

 

About half-way through this utterance, 18 found that Goku’s attentions had again dropped back onto his meal. Apparently, only the slightest invitation toward food or eating was required to see the youth abandon conversational norms in favor of stuffing his face.

 

Toward the sight, she sighed. At the same time, a withered smile crept into the left corner of her mouth all-throughout.

 

The existence of this hunger within him was endearing. Partly through its contents, and partly through its potential to be redirected toward something far more ‘fruitful’…

 

-

 

WHAT HAPPENED TO KILLING MY NIGGA SON-GOKU? ISN’T THAT WHY YOU WERE MADE? DON’T START TRIPPIN’ TRYNA TELL ME YOU HAD A SUDDEN CHANGE OF HEART TO FACILITATE THE ULTIMATELY IRRELEVANT AND UNNECESSARY PLOT TO SOME FAGGOT’S SMUT STORY. THAT’S SOME BULLSHIT, I AIN’T TRYNA HEAR THAT.

 

As an altered human responsible for her creator’s death and numerous other senseless crimes, Android 18’s sense of ‘right’ and ‘wrong’ was one far removed from that of the average human. So atypical was her mindset that it often sufficed to say that she no longer possessed these senses, and instead followed a far more personal form of direction: her immediate and longstanding desires.

 

Sufficiency in explanation is rarely achieved, however. One privy to her being—a small and exclusive group—might describe her actions as follows: Do anything and everything that I myself please whilst remaining on track to complete my original goals.

 

Described this way, certain clarity can be cast upon her decision not to spare Son-Goku from a quick and seamless death. After tasting the latent and ingrained physical ‘gifts’ native to the Saiyan race, her opinion of the youth and her desire to experience these gifts again both enjoyed considerable increases. Killing him would rob her of the opportunity to enjoy these ‘gifts’ until she grew tired of them. Her greed and the…precarious nature of her sexual tastes refused to bring such an event to pass.

 

Rather than entertaining a conflict between her current desires and overall goals, she created a ‘descriptive loophole’ in the imperative she followed to allow herself to function as both beggar and chooser in her task. Instead of killing Son-Goku himself, she turned her attention to the task of destroying the timeline that produced the ‘Son-Goku’ of the future. In this sense ‘Son-Goku’ would cease to exist without the need for any personal slights to her libido. Though this route was far more arduous and stood without a clear ‘conclusion’, following it would provide her with time to have what she desired.

 

To this end, she ended her first sexual escapade with Goku by relieving Bulma of her collection of capsules, and returning to the city of her birth to formulate a plan whilst Goku recovered. Passing herself off as a housewife with an occasionally-sickly child, she shook and twisted the many ‘hands’ required for her to set up a place of residence for herself as she thought.

 

Within a day of doing so, the beginnings of a plan took shape within her mind. The world wherein Son-Goku became ‘Son-Goku’ was one dependent on the actions of the former. If these actions never occurred, or their effects were somehow nullified, the future meant for him would be far less likely to come to pass. In its place would come another— exactly ‘what kind’ of a future was irrelevant.

 

Confident in her conclusion, she turned from it straight toward a referencing of Goku’s extensive personally history. Memorizing key events and relationships, she devised a means for either reversing, or otherwise ‘avoiding’ the vast majority of them.


Of them, the most deeply ingrained in his future (so far as she was concerned) was his marriage to a woman by the name of Chichi. The existence of this relationship cast the widest shadow over his future as it included both child-rearing, the development of paternal attachment, and the training of Son-Gohan. Coincidentally, it also presented the largest obstacle to her enjoying his body as she intended.

 

Thus, Chichi became target #1 in a long list of bullet points that the altered-human intended to hit…

 

-

SOME PLAINS SOMEWHERE.

 

Whilst travelling off a beaten path in search of one of the world’s many villages or centralized metropolitan hubs, one is likely to come into contact with a variety of things.


Dragons.

 

Dinosaurs.

 

Disgruntled and unkempt bandits.


All of these and more are said to inhabit the wastelands between and surrounding settlements. Many other hazards can be counted among them as ‘things to except’, though these three are likely to be found no matter where one’s travels take them.

 

Far less commonly seen whilst travelling is the odd, bikini-clad and woefully underage little girl. Typically accosted by all manner of pervert, her presence can be thought of as a four-leaf clover amongst a field of three. At present, only one of the world’s many barren hellscapes offered such a child. Currently staring down her latest assailant, the pale-skinned girl morsel appeared locked in the midst of a confrontation.

 

Hands on head and posture combative, the anxiety built within Chichi’s chest throughout her shared-stare down finally burst from her body in its usual, expletive ridden form.

 

“Ewwwwwwwwwwww!! Papa warned me about perverts like you! I can’t believe I keep running into so many da be!” she screamed. “Unfortunately for you, this girl is off the market! Take your marriage training contracts and interracial wife-stealing plots somewhere else, da be!”

 

Confused, but nevertheless quite wary of the tiny girl’s suggestive gestures, the knapsack-clad male raised his hands to present a defensive apologetic-ness.

 

“Ay, what the fuck? When did a nigga even say any of that, b?” he began. “I ain’t tryna do shit. I just passed you on this big ass open field, minding my own business. Just chill. We good; I swear to god we good.”

 

Tightening her features into a pout, Chichi edged her fingers closer to the blade affixed to the top of her helmet.

 

“Speaking in another language won’t save you!” she barked. “I’m gonna tell my daddy and my husband on you after this, so you’d better run away while you still have the chance, da be!”
 

 

Exhaling sharply, the knapsack-clad male exhaled, and furthered the outreaching of his hands as if desiring to retort. As his mouth opened to do so, a sharp gust of air blown in from the west swept him off his feet, and forced his frame into an unplanned coast through the air most immediate to him.

 

Within the blink of an eye, the space ahead of Chichi was replaced by an adult-sized blonde woman. Dressed down to an extremely revealing combination of ‘undergarments’, her appearance was juxtaposed suggestively by the typically-dressed little boy tucked underneath her dominant arm.

 

Entirely silent, it was her dark-haired carry-on that broke the confusing silence invited by her entrance.

 

“Heya Chichi!” Goku greeted. “Wow, you’re still tiny! Have you been forgetting to eat or somethin’?”

 

Ordinarily, a heartfelt response consisting of both a thank you and a greeting was Chichi’s ‘go-to’ in situations such as this—especially where her future husband was concerned. Seemingly, he had arrived to liberate her yet again. This time, however, he had company: the sort that no loyal husband ought to keep.

 

“Goku-sa...” beginning pensively, Chichi passed her gaze from Goku’s smiling face to the smirking woman above him. “I’m really happy y’came to save me and everything but,” raising a gloved hand, she pointed straight up at the blonde, and turned her placid features to a girlish pout. “Who’s that? A-And why is s-she dressed like that?”

 

The woman to which Chichi referred was none other than 18. Now without the somehow-alluring home-wear she had begun the day in, a pair of wide, square-shaped medical plasters were all that remained at her torso in the way of coverage. The width of these khaki-colored bandages completely obscured the pink of her areola and nipple, though when compared to the bare and luscious excess of breast flesh that remained exposed to the open air, their presence was one easily forgotten at the region.

 

‘Covering’ her frame from the waist-down was a thinner, far more deeply-cut, and almost-entirely-pointless pair of jeans short. Washed out to a sky-blue shade brighter than her usual selection of denim, its existence at her hips did not serve the purpose of coverage, but instead that of ‘accentuation’ for the thickness of her thighs, width of her hips, and the persistence of muscle underneath the slightest layer of flesh affixed atop her abdominals. In total, its fabric covered a three inch width from a position just below the peak of her hips down to one at the very beginning of her thigh, and a meagre two from the peak of her needlessly-thick buttocks to two inches below that. Unused and far-too-narrow white pockets extended across the fair expanse past the three inch mark at the front of her thighs, though again, their presence was not an ‘impactful’ one given the amount of thigh flesh that remained exposed.

 

From the front, the garment’s presence framed the curved pelvic indentations that separated the bone and musculature of her thighs from those of her crotch and pelvis. Deep, yet far from unbecoming or unimaginable, these lines guided the eye to the center of her crotch, and by proxy, the plump beginnings of the nigh uncovered lower lips teased just underneath the pin-sized button that affixed her shorts to her waist.

 

Strangely, Goku seemed very ‘ready’ to respond to the question of his companion’s identity. On cue to the brandishing of his readiness, 18 released his waist, and allowed him to drop down to his feet.

 

Taking a pair of steps forward, he placed himself directly between both females. As he moved, his sole working arm rummaged through the pockets of his pants. Eventually unearthing a paper flashcard, he turned his gaze down towards its face, and finally back towards Chichi with the same inviting smile he had presented previously.

 

“Oh yeah, you haven’t met 18 yet, have you?” he replied. Again boring his gaze down at the card, he raised a hand to gesture towards 18. Subsequently, he began reading off of it. “This is 18; she’s my new …uh….girlfriend? Yeah, that. I’d have liked to have told you sooner, but I was too busy using her insides as a semen toilet to worry about the opinion of an under-developed little girl…” brows furrowed, Goku paused for a moment to ensure that he could read the remainder of the card’s contents. “Anyway, I pretty much just came here to tell you that. Since you can’t really compete with 18 in any way, you’re better off finding some other stupid kid to marry, okay?”

 

His monologue complete, Goku returned his flashcard to his pocket, and smiled warmly towards Chichi as if the nature of his utterances had been positive. 18 had assured him that there was only one way for Chichi to take his actions, and that appearing ‘as normal’ no matter what was the best thing for him to do.

 

Eyes closed and teeth exposed in a grin, it never quite occurred to him to open his eyes and survey Chichi’s state for himself.

 

No sooner did he finish speaking was she left lifeless and morose. When this condition passed, fat, unobstructed tears began welling within her eyes before slipping into numerous slides down her face. Finally, her features tightened, and her frame began to tremble as if about to burst.

 

Smoothly, 18 interjected to ward off the coming future. Moving up to Goku’s side, she dropped into a squat by his frame before gripping his shoulders and turning him to face her. Lips in view, she pressed her head inwards, and shamelessly smothered her lips against his own. Immediately invading the confines of his mouth with her tongue, she again familiarized herself with the taste of his mouth with eyes closed in dedication.

 

Eventually, she broke pattern. Closing her ears to the intoxicating slurp of moist flesh against flesh she produced, she opened her left eye, and tilted her skull slightly to direct a smirking half-glance straight at Chichi. After this glance, her kiss with the underage and undersized child at her front lasted a precious few additional seconds before she withdrew.

 

Spindles of saliva still clinging to her lips, she pivoted her skull entirely to address Chichi not as a bystander, but as an opponent soundly defeated.

 

“In case you can’t take his word for it, I’m on board with everything he said. Crazy what kids are saying about their girlfriends these days, huh?” she replied.


A spitfire in her own right, Chichi did not take this comment lying down.

 

“Shut up, you b-b-biiihtch!” she stammered. “Y-You did something to Goku-sa, didn’t you? H-He’d never say something l-like that to me ever da be!”

 

“Ok, so do something about it.”

 

“W-What? What do you mean da be?”

 

“If I did something to him, do something about it. All you have to do to get what you want is force me away from him, right?”

 

Petrified by the truth, a life-threatening knot began to form within Chichi’s stomach.

 

“But you’re not going to do that, are you?” 18 continued. “You’re going to be an honest, even-tempered little loser and watch while I enjoy something that you’ll never be able to with my boyfriend.”

 

“And if you don’t…”

 

Again bleeding her murderous intent, she focused the majority of it onto Chichi in the hope of shocking her still.

 

I’ll do something about it.”

 

Unsurprisingly, she succeeded. Obedience drawn to her consciousness epicenter, Chichi stood in fearful aw of what had, and was to come…

 

 

-

I’M JUST PLAYING; I LOVE CHICHI. I’M JUST TALKING SHIT FOR REAL

 

 

 

18 made good on her claim far faster than its contents implied she would.

 

Innards throbbing for yet another taste of the swollen erection at Goku’s crotch, she reached down toward the region with her left hand. Initially skipping the bloated bulge of his compacted phallus, she moved straight to its underside to press her palm into contact with the warm, fist-sized testicles in part responsible for his virility.

 

Perception of their weight induced an involuntary (and quite short) licking at her lips, and the descent of her right hand to the waistline of his pants.

 

“Just two days and you’re already this swollen again? Your body really is built to keep women like me satisfied, huh?” she suggested. Gently squeezing the massive sac of orbs within her palm, she afterwards took to fondling them so as to not deprive herself of any further ‘time’ with his member. “Well, that’s fine. I wouldn’t be good for you if I couldn’t do something about every drop of that gooey cock juice, right? You can just relax and let mommy handle everything, ok?”

 

Whilst speaking, 18 made certain to inflect two portions of her utterances in such a way that would be impossible for Chichi to ignore. Both of these portions contained information that she wished for the little girl to hear. Unlike her former fiancé, it was fairly likely that she was capable of connecting the ‘dots’ that they presented. 18 hoped that she would, but whether she did or not was to have no bearing on her manner of progression.

 

Again focusing her gaze upwards at the flushed features of her partner, she slipped both of her hands underneath the waistband of his sweatpants to drag the flexible garment down the length of his lower body.  Dropping them down into a heap at his ankles, the serpentine spire of coiled, trunk-thick cockmeat that had sat bundled and semi-erect underneath unfurled out to a tantalizing bob towards her lips.

 

Given a glance at it, she deduced that foreplay was no longer enough to pump the deliciously-oversized phallus to its full size. With this in mind, she pressed her right hand inward into a half-brace of its base, and used her left to pull its tip towards her lips via the midsection of its trunk.

 

In doing so, her senses were granted fresh ‘insight’ into the biological workings of his frame. Though his body had been washed in their time together, a pungent, humid stench solely reticent of semen and sweat overwhelmed the air immediate to her face the moment she completed the shift. Cross-referenced against the weight of his testicles, this stench produced automatic estimates of the volume and consistency of the semen currently contained within him.

 

Like the scent of his cock, the product of these calculations was mouth-watering enough to warrant speech.

 

“You remember how this goes, right? I’m going to take every inch of your swollen, jizz-scented boy cock inside of me and milk out aaaaaaaaaaaalll of that gooey stuff that you’ve saved up for me ♥.” she began. “If you’re a good little participant, there will even be a reward in it for you part way through. I’d hate for you to get bored of me making a mess of myself on your cock, after all ♥.”

 

Meekly, Goku nodded his head in agreement. The pleasure that 18 had pressed into his mouth and crotch thus far was sufficient motivation for him to play accessory to her plans again—more so considering none of his bones had been broken in the lead up.  It did eventually occur to him that there remained a ‘part’ for him to play, however.

 

Turning his head and raising his hand, he began on another hazy reading of a dialogue written into his palm.

 

“Sure 18…” he began. “As long as I get to feel you jerk off my cock with your throat and all’a the messes you fuck out of yourself, I’ll try my best…” he stated robotically.

 

Suppressing a smirk and giggle, 18 pounced when his utterance came to an end. Parting her lips, she snapped her skull forward to engulf Goku’s cock into the artificial (yet eerily human) confines of her mouth. Beginning with his glans, she spread her lips around the acrid section of cockmeat before smoothly (and briskly) plugging her gullet with the rigid and monstrously-vascular inches of his cock’s trunk.

 

Unsurprisingly, this section of the sweat-glazed spire was that which she enjoyed most. Without once breaking the lust-fueled stare she had directed up at him, she maintained a consistent ingress of her skull that sandwiched the pale flesh of his cock through her meaty face-cervix and straight into the tighter, thicker, and better lubricated confines of her esophagus. Slowly but surely, the engorged spire and its reddened, vein-webbed surface area began disappearing past her lips until not an inch of it remained outside the humid, throbbing embrace of the orifice past them. Not once throughout the experience did 18 gag, twitch, or halt to regulate her breathing. Whether a consequence of her status as an android or her flaring desire to ingest the battered jizz contained within him, she did not stop until her cock-spread lips were delivered down into a wet kiss with the hairless exterior of his crotch.

 

This done, she began to move; not with the robotic precision of a machine moving to its next task, but with a far more perverse rendition of the quality infected with female desire.

 

First settling her palms to grip the exterior of Goku’s hips (a feat easily achieved given the vast difference in their size and the miniscule nature of his frame), she drew her skull backwards to drag his cock back through the infernal tube of fuckmeat that it had been so recently pressed into. Sliding outwards with an intentional sluggishness, she ground his erection through the initial stretches of her esophagus and treated its bloated exterior to a much needed bout of compression. Halting her retreat after a wet *GLRKKK!* signaled the pop of his glans from the back of her throat, she held this section of his cock—and this one only—between her lips, and applied a tempting, suction-based pressure to it. Applying enough force to ensure that her lips were presented as perversely as possible, she supplemented her momentary stagnation with an avid swirling of her tongue from the base of the beat-red cock-section to its roof.

 

Then, she descended. Revealing her previous act as a pleasurable subterfuge, she messily impaled her lips with the entirety of his member without an instance of stuttering or warning. Slamming herself back down to the base of his member, a wet *SCHLRK* reticent of a pike’s disappearance into a partly-rigid mire squeaked from her lips in time with the comparatively more quiet *CHU* of her lips to the surface of his crotch.

 

Keeping to the implications of her sudden increase in speed, her second arrival at the base of his cock served as the ‘start point’ for an especially feverish iteration of the sloppy, up-and-down ‘jerking’ that Goku had requested. Engaging the musculature of her neck, esophagus, and upper body, she began spearing her skull inward and outward along the length of his erection.

 

As had been the case with all of her ministrations thus far, those that she produced at this juncture took advantage of the stark contrast between her size and strength and Goku’s. In place of the sharp, back and forth flicks of her skull that might’ve seen her constricted esophagus wring the pulsing meat of his shaft from its base near to its tip, she invested herself in a back and forth lunging of her skull that mashed her lips in and out of contact with Goku’s crotch. Bracing his lower body with the grasps placed at his hips, she effectively reduced herself to an automatic and exceptional masturbatory aid indifferent to the various pitfalls and ‘difficulties’ associated with a spirited instance of facefucking.

 

While her skull hardly moved throughout the spirited metronome, its effectiveness and by-products far exceeded those of the aforementioned ‘traditional’ method. Throughout the downward portion of any given one of these sharp, frame-trembling dives, Goku’s shaft was sandwiched through a tube of esophagus flesh whose inner texture was padded with oozing, flesh-like bulbs. Intended as ‘improvements’ to the smooth muscle canal’s biological designs, each of these could be activated individually to better ‘digest’ the nutrients passed through it. As the meat of his shaft could not be broken down, their function was reduced to that of a scalding, individualized deep-tissue massage delivered by a myriad of quivering flesh bulbs. Equipped with their own mucus-like lubricant, their hived organization ensured that every starved inch of cockflesh that his shaft had to offer was in some way smothered by their functionality.

 

18 both completed an injection of Goku’s cock through these conditions and positioned herself to repeat the happening at the pace one might idly tap a foot. Nevertheless, the confines of her esophagus acted in unison each and every time to ensure that each ruthlessly speedy trip that his shaft made through their environs was uniform.

 

A certain amount of mess and noise were consequential to 18’s efforts. Though these consequents were both unnecessary and entirely controllable on her part, she went out of her way to ensure that each of their facets were amplified to the most obscene of extremes.Her performance was not entirely for her, after all. Footsteps from the position at which she mashed her face against her favorite virile and underage cock was the little girl that it had been meant for in the first place.

 

In her mind, this warranted theatrics. Seconds into the skewering of her skull, she applied a shrill and short ‘squeak’ to each bloating of her esophagus with Goku’s cock. Toned to sound both pleasured and focused, the outward ‘effect’ that it applied to her ministrations was that of a dedication as depraved as it was girlish.

 

Chichi’s perception of the noise approximated this effect. What had begun as a brutal and perverse display likely to scar her mind for years to come was tempered by the sound as a sight both arousing, and for reasons yet unknown to her, enviable. Flushing at her cheeks, the introduction of these noises into 18’s routine prompted her to squeeze her thighs against one another and occasionally break eye-contact from the sight entirely.

 

Not frequently, but occasionally.

 

Privy to these developments, 18 upped her ante.  Now well into her well-placed gut-fucking of Goku’s shaft, she engaged the inner workings of her esophagus and throat to allow the frothed throat-slop that saturated her fuckhole a drainage point between her lips. With this, the substances internal application was turned to a muddy, sloppy outflow of precum and mucus from underneath her lips. Ejected in its largest quantities each time she hilted Goku’s mast down her throat, the compression of the various goo-thick streams allowed to ripple along the length of his shaft created a sopping wet *CLOPP* unmistakable as sexual impacts. To compliment them, 18 accentuated the various *GLRKK* and *SPLRTCH* noises that the musculature of her esophagus spat up throughout.

 

Just as her dutiful devouring of Goku’s shaft seemed to have reached its peak in depravity, 18 aborted it. Quieting the longing of her stomach and libido, she froze, and afterwards forced herself through yet another messy extraction of his endowment from her throat.

 

 

“Whew...”

 

“Now seems like as good a time as any for a little break, doesn’t it?” she suggested. Though these were the words that left her lips, her dominant hand had trailed away from her side into a considerable grasp of the initial inches of Goku’s member. As her string of utterances continued, a wet and unmistakable squelch of masturbation was produced as a perverse accompaniment for her words. “I’m impressed; it seemed like you actually wanted to be here this time around.” she complimented. “Sure, you didn’t try and fuck my throat yourself, but you still let me work most of that smelly dick juice you’ve saved up to a point that I can reach it ♥.”

 

“What do you think, Chichi?” turning towards the trembling (and still-attentive) young woman, 18 presented both the throbbing, slop-slogged member that her dominant hand stroked, as well as her own spittle-drenched and pubic-hair flecked lips. “Do you think that he earned his reward, or do you think there was something more he could’ve done to make my job a little bit easier?”

 

Chichi was without the will to respond with an outburst. Though defiance was what her heart desired, what her innards desired was Goku, and what her mind desired was a complete escape from the situation that she had been forced into.

 

Diverting her gaze, she clasped both of her hands together and plunged them into her lap in a show of embarrassment.

 

“I-I dunno…” she exhaled. “I-I’mma nice, d-demure girl da be. H-How would I know if you g-guys were doing that right?”

 

Perking up, Goku overcame his pleasure-wrought disorientation the moment his ears caught the sound of Chichi’s voice. Grinning as though he had been drugged, he afterwards recalled the final (and most simplistic) request handed down to him by 18.

 

Remembering it had been easy; no male endowed with his libido was liable to forget it.

 

“That’s ok, Chichi! Jus’ ‘cause you don’t know doesn’t mean y’can’t learn!” he replied, his words slightly slurred by the pleasure throbbing through his crotch. “I probably coulda done a bit better, so I’ll show you what that looks like so you can….compare it to other stuff in the future! Yeah!” he offered.

 

Turning back to face 18, the expression of innocent excitement inscribed into his features attained a sharper shade of brightness.

 

“If I did ok enough, can I ask for a reward now, 18?” he requested.

 

Playing her part as best she could, 18 curled her eyes to the top right corners of their sockets in a show of faux-consideration. The smile spread out over her lips as she did so all but stated what her answer was likely to be, though so far as their sole ‘audience member’ was concerned, the response she intended to choose remained ambiguous.

 

“Hmmm….” humming to herself, she drew the gesture out as far as she could before again closing her eyes to smile. “You know what? Sure. I was going to pick something myself, but it sounds like you’ve got something in mind. No need for me to be a pushy girlfriend if you already know what you want.” she replied.

 

“Great!” Goku cheered.  “If that’s ok, then I want to taste that milk that comes outta your chest again!” he suggested. “I also wanna show Chichi what it looks like when I get’tah squeeze out all of that smelly white stuff into one of your holes…” after stating this, what knowledge the youth maintained regarding spatial restrictions presented a clear ‘impasse’ between both of his desires. Crossing his arms at his chest, genuine befuddlement pulled his facial features into a state of brow-furrowed distress.

 

“I dunno how to do both at the same time, though…” he lamented aloud.

 

Giggling sultrily, 18 opened her eyes. Nothing had changed about them since their last closure, though their manner of presentation was without the excess warmth or lidded lust that she had utilized prior.

 

Now, her gaze was indicative of both hunger and direction.

 

“Well, you’re in luck…” she began. Before as much as a ‘how so’ could pop from Goku’s loosened lips, she released her grasp of his hips, and flung herself backwards. Dropping out of her squat, she laid her back flat out across the grass-tufted land beneath them to present the sumptuous excess of her torso beneath him. This done, she raised her left hand, extended its index finger, and swirled it around in midair where Goku could see it.

 

Following along, Goku responded to the gesture with a short patter around to the ‘back’ of 18’s frame. Setting his feet just behind her skull, he afterwards gazed down at her inverted features in search of direction.

 

“Here?” he suggested.

 

“Yup, right there.” 18 replied.

 

Dropping her left hand down to the plaster at her right breast, a sharp pinch of her index finger and thumb to its corner initiated a muted tear of its extent from off of her nipple. The speed of its removal plugged just enough stimulation into the smooth, nipple-less pasture to see a familiarly thick and cylindrical knob of nipple flesh begin rising from the center of her areola.

 

Her final task completed, 18 snapped her right arm downward to consume the front of Goku’s collar. Wrenching his torso downward into a face plant with her exposed breast, she exhaled a sweetly-toned explanation for her actions.

 

“There. Now you can do both, can’t you?” she suggested. “You’re small enough that a lot of things work out better than they should, so go ahead and enjoy yourself. Show Mommy exactly how much cock juice you wanted to spew into her stomach ♥.”

 

Devoid of shame and an understanding of the meaning behind 18’s words, Goku perceived only what parts of them were of relevance to him. These included the gleaming availability of one of her nipples, and the ideal positioning her head had been placed at.

 

With the scent of milk at his nose, he made immediately use of both. Pressing 18’s nipple into his mouth and angling his hips outwards, he simultaneously applied pressure with his lips and jammed his crotch inwards to introduce a two-fold pressure both into and onto his frame.

 

This time, he did not wilt in the face of it.

 

He flourished.

 

-

I’M GOING TO RUN THIS GIMMICK INTO THE GROUND

 

 

Try as he might, Goku could not understand his predilection for the fluid stored within 18’s breasts.

 

His first taste of the substance had come under duress. Its taste had been implanted into his tongue, and its contents had robbed his senses of their usual sharpness. In spite of these things, he enjoyed it. Though he could not ascertain why, his stance towards it was one firmly rooted in the ‘positive’—hence his desire for a second taste.

 

This ‘positive stance’ was very clearly discernable in the manner in which he went about suckling to 18’s nipple. Unlike the initial scenario he had been placed in, his current circumstance was one of leverage. Now, he could bury his face into 18’s mound, lightly graft his teeth into the flesh of his nipple, and draw her bitter sweet milk into contact with his tongue at a pace that he pleased.

 

The effectiveness of his ministrations (in spite of their lacking a planning stage and executional adjustments) surprised even him. Whilst his lips remained suctioned to the areola that the spewing nub, active swirls from his tongue teased, and in some cases prodded a maximal discharges of milk from the ducts that it came into contact with.

 

These were efforts that he produced naturally: a natural conveyance of his increasingly cloying desire to consume the substance.

 

The ‘successes’ of his mouth at whetting half of his previously stated appetite allowed the youth to approach his goring of 18’s throat with the same focus that he devoted to his practice of martial arts.

 

From the first thrust that he delivered past her lips came an unrelenting salvo of deep, upward angled stabs from his crotch. Behind each of these could be found a comparatively shorter extrications that left the bulk of his member to linger within the pre-loosened reaches of esophagus flesh that had enveloped his shaft.

 

Outwardly, his efforts appeared simple. 18 had grounded her skull beforehand, so a flat-footed ‘dig’ of his shaft through her lips and gullet was necessary if the entirety of his shaft was to taste the moist constriction offered by the inside of her facecunt.

 

The reality of his ministrations was harsher; no more difficult for their executor, but far more impressive in what they entailed. After the initial plunge of his shaft back into the abusive, bulky-texture depths of 18’s esophagus, Goku was made to recall the tissue-rending pleasure that had stimulated his member thus far. As elating as it was punishing, this sensation was one that threatened to bring the weight stored within the base of his crotch outwards until not an ounce of it remained left within him. In the face of this unrelenting pleasure, he did not limit his thrusts to the slow and shallow pumping that might prolong his ministrations to their utmost. Instead, he bent his knees as deeply as possible, and engaged his abdominals in a livid skewering of 18’s face at an angle that forced the meat of his member into opposition with the flesh of his cock.

 

 The ‘product’ of his doing so were the upward-angled, crotch-depth thrusts mentioned previously. Per injection of his member through 18’s cock-greased lips, his member travelled upwards and inwards through the pulsing opening of her throat, and further down into the leaking, far more variable hell of her neck’s digestive/masturbatory device. All the while, the top half of his member remained in direct contact with the top half of her make shift sex canal. From the roof of her oral cavity straight across a seemingly endless tube of esophagus meat, contact remained established between the horridly over-fed veins covering his shaft and a variety of oppressively pleasurable throat-meat textures.  The same remained true of his glans; for every inch that he forced his cock along, the vulnerable bundle of nerves was forced to spearhead a path whilst messy blurts of precum spurted from its interior with regularity.

 

To reiterate, each of the retractions that came after these thrusts required a more ‘pedestrian’ sort of effort. Goku quickly arrived at the conclusion that the ‘talent’ of 18’s gullet was compression and control. Though the flesh of her gullet did cling to the exterior of his shaft to an extent, freeing himself from its grasp was merely a matter of wrenching himself back past a point of ‘half-way submersion’ within her, and suppressing the chilling, biologically-ingrained twinge that fired through his crotch each time he did so.

 

As no ‘relief’ could be found on in either portion of the thrusting pattern, his execution of it quickly reintroduced a disorientating ‘drunkenness’ to his expression. Closer to a euphoria in quality, its appearance again framed his efforts as the practiced flailing of a youth happily teetering on the brink of an orgasm.

 

Goku did not view himself as such, however. So far as he was concerned, his condition was a state of happiness concerned with showing Chichi such an ‘ideal’ rendition of proper sexual effort.

 

Quite pleased with himself, he popped his lips from off 18’s nipple, and turned his gaze back towards her with a smile tinged by lust.

 

“S-See, C-Chichi? I-It’s kinda like this!” he explained. “I-I could’ve been doin’ somethin’ like this b-before, but it woulda been way way harder!” recognizing a certain amount of interest* (outright shock) on his companions face, he continued speaking to somehow ‘further’ it. “See how her neck is bulging and all sorts of gooey stuff is shooting out of her mouth? T-That’s what it looks like w-when you m-masturbate with a g-girl’s facecunt properly!”

 

“The last p-part kinda takes a while, so try an’ pay attention, ok?”

 

Milliseconds into another sharpening of the bend of his knees, Goku had his strenuously-established sexual floor pulled out from under him. Partway through the latest of his focused drilling-attempts, the texture of a palm appeared at his lower back. The force that backed this limb immediately drew his gaze away from 18’s glossy midsection and back behind his frame. One look at the pale limb folded toward his frame answered the question of ‘who’. An answer for the one of ‘why’ came several seconds later.

 

Again utilizing a measured fraction of her strength, 18 applied an insurmountable force down onto Goku’s tailbone. In doing so, she surmounted the ‘hold’ of his feet to the ground, and selfishly completed the latest of his thrusts for him. Stuffing his cock through her mouthcunt down to a new depth, she held his crotch inward and downward to ensure that his latest ‘hilt’ within her would be maintained.

 

If only slightly, doing so introduced the tip of his glans to a pleasurable ‘peak’ of his glans into the confines of her stomach. Better still, the introduction of the sex-worn cock section to yet more fresh, super-heated G.I  tract proved potent enough a stimuli to send a fresh wave of convulsions rippling through its extent.

 

These happenings alone made the gesture a worthwhile one for 18. Considered as finger-tips of experiential icing for the ‘cake’ she had yet to receive, she happily ate herself sick on the substance to the point at which her body forcibly rejected some of the event.

 

In this case, ‘rejection’ for her altered frame was limited to a thunderous, nerve-rending orgasm.

 

“Oh, fuck ~♥. I’m actually gonna squirt from getting my guts fucked out by this kid, aren’t I?” she thought to herself, her inner tone completely lucid. “I guess this tiresome little plan of mine might be worthwhile after all. If he’s doing this to my throat on his second turn around with my body, who knows what he’ll be able to make me feel in the future…”

 

Giggling coolly to herself, this thought proved the final nail in her libido’s coffin. Abruptly, forced muscle-contractions forced her legs apart and saw the tips of her flat-clad toes dug soundly into the ground beneath them. Subsequently, several dense geysers of thick, translucent female lubricant exploded from her hardly-covered crotch with the force of an under-powered fountain. Flourishing at a peak before arcing into a descent expected of syrup or resin, the steaming streams drenched the grassy-earth between her legs until it appeared as though a blanket of runny, undiluted slime had been spread upon it. Throughout their release, trembles and twitches invaded the flesh of 18’s thighs and calves as a raw flame through kindling. Visibly ‘reigned in’ by their owner, the duration of these tremors and the effort that they required to quell spoke volumes as to the sort of bliss that she endured.

 

Looking to the blonde’s lower half was not the only means by which to examine this bliss, however. From the peak of her squirt to its denim-soaking dregs, both of her eyes could be seen upturned in a roll towards the back of her skull…

 

-

RECIPROCATE

A half minute spent with his cock skewered down to its maximal depth down 18’s throat proved the most that Goku could stand in his current state. Following a juvenile groan from his slackened maw, a sudden backwards reel of his skull heralded the expulsion of an initial jet of cock juice from out of the head of his member.

 

 

Just as 18’s nose had suggested, the sheer amount of glut packed into this initial strand suggested an orgasm far larger and nastier than the one that had swelled the confines of her cunt. As the tip of his member presently pointed downwards directly into her vacant stomach, the jizz strand itself was splattered out against its flooring to vivid and likely disgusting effect.


Primarily white save for the discernable tingeing endured by fermented semen, the substance that pooled across the floor of her gut was unmistakably ‘reproductive’ in variety. That which ambiguated it was limited to its consistency, and the stunning volume delivered within the first of what was likely to be a countless number of strands. The former marked the current ‘iteration’ of Goku’s seed as similar to a runny, partly-strained Greek yogurt. Far too thick and chunk-laden to be called goo, yet far too hot and ‘fluid’ to be called a perfect substitute for the food item, the bulky muck occupied its own chewy, protein-riddled niche amongst the ejaculate-types its producer’s frame was capable of spitting out.

 

Naturally, its composition contributed to a powerful grafting of its contents to the inside of 18’s stomach. Within seconds, this happening was rendered irrelevant by the outpouring of similarly-sized and larger strands of jizz into the organ. The initial puddle formed at the base of her stomach was fed considerable volumes of jizz until a semi-solid pool of cock juice took up occupancy within it. Seconds after this, the continued jetting of semen from his member completely consumed the capacity of her stomach, and began to threaten a forced regurgitation of the growing ‘excess’ within her.

 

Fortunately—for both Goku’s euphoria and 18’s appetite—this happening did not come to pass. As had been the case with her uterus, the wriggle of monumental jizz strands out into the reservoir of semen within her stomach resulted only in a progressive expansion of the organ. Swelling outwards through several trimesters of pregnancy over the course of another handful of seconds, it quickly became apparent that not a single traditional human ‘limitation’ remained present within her frame. Not only was the pale flesh of her midsection durable enough to encapsulate her organ’s massive, pregnancy-esque growth with only a show of irritated redness as consequent, but the organ itself displayed no signs of failing in the immediate future.

 

As the owner of the body cavity that maintained the aforementioned organs and flesh, 18 remained well-aware of where she ought to cut proceedings short. Having been granted additional clarity by the passage of her orgasm some seconds before Goku’s, the ‘breeding’ of her face was as much enjoyable stimulation for her as it was an engaging interactive activity. Tracking the growth of the womb-warming weight within her stomach, she allowed it to progress to a point that left her stomach just past the size one might expect for an extremely pregnant woman of her stature and fertile build.

 

Subsequently, she made a choice.

 

“’Kay, gonna puke. Really don’t want to do that today if I can avoid it.” she thought to herself. “Besides, a girl’s gotta do her own leg work leg work at the end of the day as well...”

 

Thinking listless thoughts, she repurposed her downward impression of Goku’s lower body into a single handed clasp to the fringe of his left hip. Once fastened, she strenuously peeled his crotch from off of her face as one might pull open the cover to an especially large and dusty tome. Dragging several inches of his shaft from her throat as she went, miniature eruptions of cock juice blurted out from underneath her lips for each ‘section’ that she managed to uncork from herself. Unbothered by the substance’s descent across the top half of her face and across her still-opened eyes, she continued with the process until the sound of semen burbling up through her esophagus whilst cockmeat left it could no longer be heard.

 

An affectionate dump of Goku’s frame to the ground at her right preceded a surprisingly adept rise for her. Back into an upright seated position, she found one of her eyes slightly-reddened by seed and the other plastered shut by it. Furthermore, a mouthful of semen large enough to necessitate the constant closure of her lips remained within her mouth as a gooey reminder for the amount of semen that she had regurgitated moments prior.

 

Though the stinging of her eyes was not something that she had planned for, the persistence of semen within her mouth was. Nimbly springing to her knees, she turned, and again re-directed her focus to her throat-fucking’s petite spectator.

 

Approaching gingerly, she made it as far as the settlement of hands to her shoulder before the girl began to protest.


Teary-eyed, she shook her head and scowled.

 

“W-What do you want? L-Let go of me!” struggling against grasps she’d never surmount, an impressive amount of indignance remained about her. “I-I stood and w-watched, d-didn’t I? C-Can’t you leave me alone da b—MMPH!”

 

Though a scowl would have sufficed, 18 chose to silence Chichi with a kiss.  Locking her palms atop her narrow shoulders, she ensured that her torso would remain in place before shooting her skull inwards towards her own at a pace she could not avoid. Quickly consuming her smaller and smoother lips with her own, she parted them to allow the stewed pool of semen within her mouth a new and nubile ‘drainage point’. Injected alongside the vapid mudslide of semen was a means of portioning its volume within Chichi’s mouth: her tongue. Aggressively fondling the plate of flesh within her younger partner’s mouth, she cajoled it into an upturning that best availed the base of her oral cavity to the flesh-staining semen presently drooling out into its interior. Eventually, she turned to an outright molestation of the girl’s tongue to ensure that the writhing mess of sludge dumped into her mouth was distributed from its base to a taste-bud ruining smear across all about the pink interior of her mouth.

 

Overall, 18 provided Chichi with a little over half of the semen that remained within her mouth before ending their kiss. Pulling away as smoothly as she had approached, she swallowed down the remainder of Goku’s load as a gummy water before properly addressing her.

 

“Still think I’m a bitch?” she suggested. “You were looking really sad there for a while, so I thought I’d let you get at least one taste of this kid’s cum. You’re never going to get the chance to drain it out yourself, so it’s better than nothing, isn’t it?”

 

Chipmunk-cheeked, Chichi shook her head in disconfirmation. 18 merely smirked in response.

 

“Come on, don’t be rude.” she continued. “I just did you a favor; the least you can do is swallow your food…

 

“Or do you need me to show you what you’ll never have all over again?”

 



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