Author's Note: Set in Mirai Trunks' alternate timeline. The female character is whoever you want it to be. =3 This is a darker story containing scenes of torture/rape. If this isn't your kind of story, you should check out my other fics instead. Poem is Night Close by Michael R. Slaughter. If you enjoy the story, please review! Flames will be deleted. ;)

Beautiful Monster

Chapter 1

Under night close
Death rose to greet me.
I turned; looked back,
Though nothing beckoned –
No one cried or mourned.

Scorned by all
– My fellow race –
I shed the byes to empty space, then
Gazed upon the stony face
Of Death anon, and
So chose our treaty.

The androids were attacking the city again. Trunks had insisted I stay behind with his mother, but there was no way I was going to let him go off and fight them alone. He had become especially protective of me ever since the androids killed his mentor, Gohan. We arrived at South City to see it in ruins. Black smoke billowed from a collapsing building, but what unnerved me the most was how quiet it was. The deathly silence always bothered me the most when it came to these times.

But where we the androids? They showed themselves within seconds, the female machine striking Trunks hard in the back, and the male grabbing me in a choke hold. Trunks was knocked to the ground, but quickly recovered and came after #17. The android released me as he countered Trunks' attack. He threw Trunks into a building, and #18 went after him. The loud crashes told me Trunks wouldn't be defeated easily.

I was alone with the male machine. I ran at him, throwing my fists at his face, which he easily dodged. He was very fast; so fast, he managed to slip behind me and clasp his hand on my throat. He could crush me in seconds. He laughed in my ear. He let go of my throat and shoved me to the ground. I quickly got back to my feet and watch him closely. If I waited for him to attack me, I would have a better chance at countering him. He was just too fast.

I blinked, and he was in front of me, clutching my face. "Let me go!" I screamed and threw my fist at his cheek. He didn't even flitch; my hand was in excruciating pain. I think I broke it.

He smirked and murmured icily, "I could easily crush your skull, but what fun would that be? I have plans for you." He inched closer to my face so that the tip of his nose brushed mine. "I can't help myself anymore, you are so beautiful." He threw his fist into my stomach, and I doubled over, incapacitated. Unable to move or scream, I stared up at him as his icy grin returned. Horrible images of what he possibly had in store for me flashed in my mind before I blacked out.

He carried me over his shoulder into the dark room, and there he tossed me down on something soft. I groggily sat up and realized I was sprawled on a bed. I tried to look around the room, wondering how long I had been out. I tried to sense Trunks, but I couldn't pick up his ki. That terrified me because that meant one of two things: either he was dead or I was miles away from him.

I heard the cold laughter of the android, and I tried to scramble away. He caught my ankle and yanked me back down the bed so he was now hovering over me. His piercing blue eyes were cold like ice. #17 had a smudge of dirt on his cheek from our encounter earlier, probably when I tried to punch him. His eyes flickered over me hungrily.

"Stay away from me!" I spat. He laughed in response.

"We're going to play a new game," he murmured, pressing his chest against mine. His breath was warm against my cheek. My spine tingled under his touch. He swiftly moved a strand of hair out of my face, allowing his hand to snake behind my neck. "Depending on how well you play will determine if you get to live," he whispered in my ear. I whimpered in protest, but #17 gave my neck a sharp squeeze as emphasis. Fear shot through me when I realized what kind of game he was planning…

He kept his one hand behind my neck, and the other tangled itself in my hair. He lowered down and hesitated at a fingerbreadth from my face. I could smell him. His scent was kind of sweet, like a combination of sugar and powder. "Piss off, you sick freak!"

Stinging agony burned through my cheek as his hand slapped the left side of my face. Screaming, I reached up to cover it, but he pinned my arm above my head. His mouth twisted into a cruel smirk. "Stop resisting me, bitch. I'd hate to deform that pretty face of yours."

His lips were on mine then, moist, warm, and eager. He kissed me fervently, pressing me into the pillow. Using the hand on my neck, he pulled me deeper into his kiss. He had caught me off guard, and I tried to catch my breath with a quick pant. Consequently, he misunderstood my distress for passion. He began to kiss me more hungrily, his desperate tongue probing my lips for entrance. He succeeded when I tried to catch my breath again. His mouth was warm, and his lips were soft. I started to pull away but he held me in place. He wasn't going to let me go.

The hand that was pinning my arm moved to my cheek and down to my neck. He caressed it so gently it was almost like he hadn't even touched me. I shivered. From my neck, his hand trailed down my sternum and to the base of my stomach. His fingers played with the edge of my shirt, allowing the tips to slip underneath. This made something inside me burn. His hand slowly slid underneath my shirt to rest on my stomach, the warmth growing even stronger.

He broke the kiss and propped himself up so he could look down at me. His dark hair spilled over his shoulder. As he watched me, his expression was mixed with amusement and curiosity. His hand slid further up my stomach to the edge of my bra. He was trying to tease me, but I refused to give him the satisfaction of getting a reaction from me. He was a murderous monster, and I loathed him.

"Isn't this fun?" he whispered.

"You make my skin crawl," I snapped. His head titled to the side, as if he was pondering what I just said. He smirked.

He leaned into my ear, "I don't think you'll say that once I have you begging for more. And I intend to take my sweet time until you do." He planted a quick kiss on my cheek. He tickled my ear with his breath.

"If that's your plan, we'll be here forever," I retorted.

The room was kind of chilly, and now I was shivering even more. #17 withdrew his hand from my shirt and wrapped the blanket over us. He was on top of me again. His warm body helped with the chills, even though I would have rather frozen to death than lay next to him. "Now where was I?" He pressed his lips to my neck, his tongue slipping out occasionally. His right arm wrapped around my shoulders and held me closer to him while his left hand found my breast. I gasped, to my horror, in delight. He chuckled against my lips, and I fought the urge to claw at his eyes. He squeezed it gently, his finger tips tracing over it until they found the center. I gasped again when he found my nipple was and traced gently over it. I squirmed underneath him, trying to create some distance, but it was futile. His tongue was on my neck and the combination of movements caused heat to swell in my lower body.

"Please stop," I panted. He laughed into my neck and recaptured my lips for just a moment and then sat up. He untied his bandana and dropped it to the floor. He lifted his shirts to expose his abdomen, and taking my hand, placed it on his flat stomach. His skin was smooth and warm, just like mine.

For the first time, I wondered how much of him was actually mechanical. I knew he was technically a cyborg, having been built from a human body, but he looked and felt so real. If I didn't know him for the murderous psychopath that he is, I would have guessed he was just a normal, handsome man.

"This can be fun for you too if you cooperate," he said, taking off the shirts completely and dropping them to the floor. He brought my hands up to his chest.

"Never," I hissed. He held my hands there for a moment. His stoic expression suddenly changed into a dangerous grin.

"If you try to fight me, I will kill you…slowly."

He was on me then, smothering my lips with his, his tongue anxious and hungry. His hand slipped under my shirt and reached for my breast again, his fingers trailing over the fabric of my bra tantalizingly slow. He touched the flesh of my chest and I shuddered. I felt him grin into my lips, and he withdrew his hand. He rose up and reached for the bottom of my shirt. He slowly slid it up, exposing my stomach to the chilly room. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to my navel, causing heat to flood my veins. I couldn't believe I was becoming aroused by him.

His tongue slipped out and nipped at the sensitive flesh. I gasped and tried to scoot away from him, but he clutched my hips and held me firmly in place. I grimaced as his fingers sunk into my skin. He grinned up at me and started to trail his tongue up my stomach. He took my shirt and pulled it up and over my head.

He was in front of me again, his lips only an inch from mine. "Kiss me," he murmured.

"No!" I spat. I wanted to throw my fists in his face, but knew that would get me killed. He took my hand and entwined his fingers with mine. His face inched closer to mine. He grasped my hand and I screamed as pain suddenly shot through my arm. I heard something pop in my hand as #17 increased the pressure on my fingers.

"I hate defiance," he hissed. "Obey me, or I will crush every bone in your hand." He squeezed again and the pain was unbearable. He smirked when I kept screaming. "Does that hurt?" he cooed. "All you have to do is simply obey me, and I'll make this as painless as possible." He let go of my hand and reached for my chin. "Kiss me."

I stared up into his eyes searching for some kind of warmth, comfort, or at least reassurance, but all that was there was the cold, solemn lifelessness that never changed. I moved my left hand slowly to reach his cheek. My right hand was numb…probably broken, so I left it lay limp on the pillow. Grasping the back of his head, I pulled him down so our lips could touch. It was a mere brush, and so we stayed like that for a few moments until I pressed mine deeper against his. The act itself was sickening, but I could do nothing more than abide his every whim.

His frantic urges returned; his kisses hot and greedy. He pulled me against his chest, slipping one hand behind my back to reach my bra. He fumbled with it for several moments, unsuccessful in his conquest to unlatch it. He rose up and glared down at me. I already knew what he wanted me to do, so I aided him in unlatching it. He pulled it off of me and dropped it somewhere. I couldn't really see, the sun had already set and the room was much darker now. I managed to peer over #17's shoulder a couple times to see past the window, but all I could see was metal rubble. Probably a city the dynamic duo had obliterated long ago.

He rose up to get a better look at me. He didn't touch me, just merely observed. He fell back on me, kissing me again, pulling me against him so our bare skins touched. He left my lips and trailed down my neck to clavicle. His tongue probed at the hollow between the bones. He slithered down further, took one breast in hand, and grazed at my nipple. I shrieked in startled delight.

He chuckled lowly, gently suckling the sensitive pink tip. The pleasure was mind numbing. I thrashed against him, trying to free myself of him, refusing to feel pleasure from this monster. He took my arms, and once again I was pinned. His mouth never left my breast. He released my arms.

His right arm snaked around my waist, pulling my deeper into his mouth, and his free hand found its way to my other breast. He nipped and nibbled the taught peak, and a mewled cry escaped my lips. I arched my back in response to the waves of pleasure he was sending through my body. It was like he was controlling me somehow…forcing these reactions from me against my will. It was like electricity.

And I couldn't take it anymore. I had to get away from him before this went any farther. He was already gaining satisfaction from the few responses he managed to get from me. He retreated from my breast with a sigh of disappointment, and ran his hands down my stomach, stopping at my jeans. He reached for the button, unzipped them, and started tugging them down my thighs. They were at my knees when he leaned down to kiss my abdomen through my panties. I shivered when his lips trailed down my thigh. He pulled the jeans off and tossed them to the side. He moved between my thighs.

He watched me for a moment, and then lifted me so his crotch was pressed against mine. I gasped. "Please, #17…" I whimpered. It was a protest, not a request. I just wanted to go home, back to Capsule Corp., and scrub his essence from my skin in a scorching hot shower. His grin widened.

"Don't worry," he cooed as he rubbed the inside of my thigh. "This will feel good. I promise." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small square wrapper. He tossed it down on me and it landed on my sternum, right between my breasts. It was a condom. I looked up at him in alarm. He laughed icily, and that was when I realized my cheeks were wet. Was the ceiling leaking? I stared up into the black abyss, but all I saw was darkness, and #17's ghostly face glowing in the white moonlight. The ceiling wasn't leaking at all; I was crying. He moved his hands again. My eyes were focused upward so I didn't see what he was doing, but I quickly realized he was removing his own jeans when I heard ziiip. He yanked them off and was free of them in moments. He hovered over me in only his undergarments, his thick erection hard against my center. He leaned down to whisper in my ear, "I'm growing impatient. Let's rid ourselves of these last garments."

His fingers slid under the edges of my panties and he wasted no time in sliding them down my thighs. He removed his undergarments just as quickly. He positioned himself between my thighs and eyed the condom eagerly. He leaned over me and murmured, "I want you to put it on me." I shuddered when I felt the tip of his length brush my thigh. Hesitantly, I reached for the condom on my chest and carefully tore the wrapper. The condom had a lot of lubrication on it and it made my fingers sticky when I placed it on the tip of his engorged member and rolled it down the shaft. He sighed in delight.

He pushed me back down on the bed and spread my legs farther apart. His fingers traced down my center, searching for my opening, and probing it apart so he could slide himself in. He moaned as he slowly slid in. He was quite large, much larger than I'd anticipated. I too sighed in delight. He stopped moving once he was all the way in. He grinned down at me. "Doesn't this feel good?" Heat flushed across his cheeks making them sparkle, pink in the moonlight.

He laid down on me and started kissing me in rhythm with his thrusts. They were slow and gentle at first. "I've wanted to do this for a long, long time," he confessed in my ear. How long had he been planning to capture me? He started to pick up speed with his thrusts, and continued the same rhythm for a few moments. I moaned into his neck as his thick member filled me again and again. It was a tight fit, but not too tight. As much as I hated to admit it, it was kinda perfect. He pulled out of me and I groaned in disappointment. He pulled me to him and kissed me with the same craze as before. Sweat formed on his back underneath the blanket. His skin felt like fire against mine.

I hoped he was finished with me, but he suddenly slid in again, causing me to cry out in ecstasy. He returned with the same pace, quick and steady. It was maddening, but I bit my lip to keep from moaning. My hands clutched the sheets beneath me to keep me from digging them into his backside, forcing him deeper inside me. I was letting him have his way with me, knowing it was the only way I would stay alive, and I would hate myself afterwards. I hated myself now.

He moaned into my ear, "This feels incredible. I never thought you would feel this tight. Are you a virgin?"

I was not a virgin, but the number of sexual partners I'd had in the past was low…only two before him.

"Bleed on me, I want to be your first," he panted against my ear.

"I won't bleed," I replied.

He stopped suddenly and glared at me. His eyes flared with rage. "Someone has already had you?" Fury shook in his voice, and I cringed under his smoldering gaze. The anger faded suddenly and he said, "No matter. I will mark you anyway."

He went back to thrusting in and out, in and out, my breasts pressed firmly against his chest. His placed his hand at the bottom of my back and pushed me closer to him. He clung to me, his thick member filling my center with warm satisfaction.

#17 was panting now, the sweet bliss becoming too much for him. He hastened his thrusts until he was nearly pounding me. His breathing quickened, and I could feel his heart pounding against our chests. I felt his member throb, and he pushed one last time before crying out and collapsing on top of me. He groaned and pushed in a few more times before lying completely still. He breathed heavily into my hair. His arms were tight around me.

"That was…marvelous," he said and propped himself onto his elbow. "Perhaps marvelous isn't the appropriate word…more like splendid. It would have been marvelous had you chosen to ride me." He grinned at me. He kissed me before I could retort with a nasty insult. "There's always next time," he murmured against my lips. Dear Kami, he planned to do this again?

He climbed off of me and fumbled for his clothes in the dark. I sat up and rubbed my right hand, which started to throb again. I needed to ice it immediately. I wondered if he would make good on his word and let me go. I also knew if he wasn't satisfied with tonight, he would kill me. Maybe he would kill me anyway. Honestly, it didn't even matter because as I watched the naked monster dress himself, something inside me wanted to die. When he was fully dressed, he glanced over his shoulder and grinned at me. He kissed me fiercely before flying out the window.

To be continued…