Normally I don't write forwards, but this this is my first fetish and kink story. (Disclosure: If features sneeze fetishist and other mature sexual activities.) If you continue reading, thank you. If not, I appreciate that you gave it chance!
Bulma dashed like a madwoman past a pack of gossiping Capsule Corporation employees to her state-of-the art research lab. They respected her but largely stayed out of her way when she acted like this. She was brilliant, like her father, but far more demanding in her expectations for herself and anyone else working with her. Her words could be sharp, but she also cared for people in other generous ways.
For weeks, her nights and days were filled with nothing but work. She kept it that way, rotating research assistants often to make sure no one burned out because of her rigorous expectations. She didn't worry about herself though, preferring to override intrusive thoughts about the inevitable downfall of her love life.
Her soon-to-be ex-boyfriend Yamcha didn't understand the importance of her efforts. She wasn't recrafting these machines purely for ego - or to gain romantic favor from her current house guest, as Yamcha suspected every time Vegeta's name came up.
No way. Not that guy. Definitely not Vegeta.
Yamcha's whining pissed Bulma off royally, considering that he could barely keep his eyes off other women's breast cleavage these days.
For her, the churlish Saiyan prince was nothing more than an extended experiment - and someone to keep watch over, given his past behavior. Vegeta knew it too, which didn't bother him one iota. Bulma's intelligence and hard labor had been useful, and the shelter her family offered turned out to be a suitable setting to consider his plans for the future. Staying on Earth didn't fit into those arrangements, but only after he ascended to Super Saiyan.
When neither were brooding about issues they couldn't fix immediately, the two also entertained themselves sometimes by annoying the hell out of each other. But Bulma had purposely been unavailable, leaving Vegeta largely to his own devices. He had everything he needed for now, including her mother Panchy, whom he tolerated because of the woman's superb cooking skills. After years of consuming all manner of questionable meats and offal while traveling as a soldier, eating this well almost felt dangerous - as if Panchy had other plans in mind for him. Although she appeared to be a faithful wife, Vegeta often caught her eyeballing his thighs and ass like they were chocolate Bundt cakes. That alarmed him, but he had enough self-possession not to show it.
Bulma had been under the weather for a while. A nagging autumn cold sneaked up on her, starting with a scorching sore throat that woke her late one night. Instead of returning home, she had been sleeping at Capsule Corporation headquarters in a guest suite for three weeks straight. She refused to be completely miserable, but her patience with the all-consuming head congestion was nearly gone. She also stubbornly refused to take more medicine that wasn't solving the problem anyway. She also couldn't risk making stupid mistakes because of a foggy mind.
She pulled an enormous box of tissues next to her with a monkey wrench, sniffling and talking to herself through it all.
"This scourge will not conquer me!"
A red light beamed above the lab's front door. Bulma wiped her nose and sighed, realizing that an uninvited visitor was hovering outside. Why give assistants instructions not to disturb her if they didn't follow them? She was covered in machine lubricant and grime - and sick!
"Please let me in, Bulma," a soft voice requested. "It's Launch."
Bulma's creeper cart squeaked as she slowly pushed herself from underneath the machinery. Her hand slammed down on a button, opening the entrance. Launch skipped into the lab dressed in a yellow miniskirt, black leggings, and platform heels. She giggled at Bulma's untidy appearance, twirling her bouncy blue curls.
Feeling vengeful, Bulma picked up a sports air horn, almost knocking her friend down with the noise. Then she pointed at the wall. "Don't come near me until you put on a face mask. This place is dusty. I don't need your other side showing up around here."
Stung by the barb, Launch pouted. "Don't use that against me, Bulma. My personalities are integrated now."
"I've known you since I was sixteen years old, Launch. You had a mild allergic reaction to feathers. That blonde-badass alternate personality that showed up every time you sneezed was an excuse to be more assertive when others pissed you off."
"You mean to be more assertive like you?" Launch asked, huffing at Bulma's bluntness. "Right. Well then, since I'm unwelcome here, maybe I'll just leave. I brought a gift to thank you for my silk nightgown. It was a great birthday present, and Tien Shinhan loved seeing it on me."
"Did he now?" Bulma removed her workman's cap. "Very, very good. Your thanks is enough. So I take it you got some sexy bedtime action?"
Launch giggled again. "We can chat about that later. Panchy says you've been locked up in here and working too much, and that you've been fighting a bad cold."
"I'm not fighting anything," Bulma said, blowing her nose. "This viral nuisance will leave my drop-dead-gorgeous body soon, I'm sure."
"So that's why you sound like a dying duck?" Launch asked with grin. She took Bulma's palm, placing a silver-colored vial into it. "Your congestion is terrible."
Confused, Bulma looked up. "What is this?"
"It's a remedy." Launch's eyelashes fluttered innocently, telling Bulma that trouble was imminent. "It also has other…benefits."
Bulma unscrewed the cap, unleashing a spicy aroma that even she could smell through her blocked nasal passages. Launch placed her thumb over the top before the scientist took a stronger whiff.
"Don't do that yet," she warned. "You should go home first, Bulma. Shower and rest."
Bulma's eyes narrowed as she closed the vial. "Just what the hell are you up to, girlie?"
Launch's tongue slid across her teeth like a lioness. "So how's Vegeta?"
"Don't even go there with me," Bulma said. "Why are you asking about him?"
"Wow, that guy really has gotten under your skin." Launch slinked behind her friend, poking the back of her head. "I'm surprised you haven't flipped that tasty-looking pancake yet. Your mom would have tried by now - if she were single."
Bulma almost gagged. "Mention that awful scenario to me again and you'll be eating this monkey-wrench I'm holding. Vegeta and I steer clear of each other for the most part, unless we're consulting each other on a project."
"Don't lie to me! Your mom says you two are chatting more often, usually at night in the kitchen."
"I oblige sometimes." Bulma realized she and Panchy were overdue for an angry chat about privacy. "That's it, Launch. So tell me what is this cold-relieving, mood-enhancing drug you're being so cryptic about?"
"It's not a drug," Launch said, flipping her hair. "Sniff a small amount after you shower. It will relieve the congestion and provide deep relaxation."
"Deep relaxation?" Bulma laughed. "I can do yoga to get that result. Sounds like you're trying to get me high. You know I can't do that. I'm too busy."
"This is healthier than drinking," Launch said, sounding mildly offended. "Your appearance tells me that you haven't been pleasuring your body enough lately either, like all women should. Embrace your inner goddess - and dump Yamcha."
Smiling, Bulma shook her head. Was she the only sane person left among her friends?
Yes. Yes, she was.
"So you're saying I will be high as a kite, decongested and horny? Only one of those choices sounds attractive, considering how my clogged sinuses feel now. I've never heard of a nootropic like this. What is it called?"
"Sternuta. Just trust me, Bulma. It's all natural and non-addictive. Tien and I can't get enough of each other when we use it. Hell, I can't get enough of myself when he's not around."
"We?" Bulma leaned back. " You got mister holier-than-thou Tien to agree to this? Am I hearing you correctly?"
Launch nodded bashfully. "Yeah."
"Two things." Bulma held up her fingers. "You're as nutty as a bowl of Muesli, and I'm going home."
Launch jumped up and down, clapping. "That's wonderful - the going home part, that is!"
"Whatever," Bulma replied with an eye roll.
Launch linked arms with her, making sure to push the vial into Bulma's side pocket.
Vegeta's post-training stops at the Brief household's sauna room soothed his racing mind. It seemed to be the only place where that happened lately, now that Bulma had disappeared on him indefinitely. Showing her mother obligatory respect didn't mean they needed to talk at length. The meddlesome woman had friends, and he really wanted Panchy to make good use of them. Bulma's father, Dr. Brief, had vanished to some far-off locale, overseeing excavation of minerals for his daughter's top-secret project.
Vegeta was used to being alone in many ways. He told himself often that he had what he needed, including two hands to satisfy cravings that backbreaking workouts couldn't. The change of seasons seemed to increase these urges. Sometimes he left windows open in his room to inhale damp earth and burning leaves. He laid naked in bed on these nights, rubbing the head of his dick, opening and closing his eyes languidly.
The fragrant cedar and steamy heat inside of the sauna lured him into touching himself for a spell, but he stopped before coming anywhere near orgasm. He wrapped a long towel around his torso before searching for his sandals. That's when he heard women's voices coming in his direction. Both he recognized, though Bulma's sounded off-kilter. There was no other quick escape from this part of the house other than re-entering the sauna, which he would not do.
"So be it," he muttered, accepting his fate. He would pass by them, offer a sliver of acknowledgement, and be on his way. He also made sure to strap his partially erect dick down under that towel like a newborn baby.
Launch recognized him first, taking stock of each visible muscle group. She didn't ogle, though, but Vegeta knew what she was doing. For some reason he felt highly uncomfortable and offended by this strange woman's brazenness in front of Bulma. Normally he wouldn't have cared.
Launch waved daintily as his face flushed. "Hi there."
"Launch."
Bulma hid her glee behind a folded handkerchief. Vegeta almost appeared embarrassed. She didn't look like herself, he thought, even in those dirty work clothes. She usually appeared as her most natural self in that scruffy uniform, which he liked.
However, he disliked the slight thrill he felt from finally seeing her again.
"I have a cold, Vegeta."
He stared blankly as she blew her nose. "I see."
"You're real talkative tonight," Bulma replied, smiling. "Aren't you going to ask how I'm feeling?"
Vegeta shrugged. "You just told me. Besides, you must not feel that ill, considering how long you've been at the lab."
"Awww." Bulma batted her eyes. "Miss me?"
Vegeta scowled as Launch giggled beside her. He hated that. Bulma didn't need any further encouragement to be cheeky with him.
"One of you should move," he said, staring frigidly at Launch.
Bulma moved aside instead, kicking his sandal for being so blatantly obvious about wanting her friend to leave. In truth, Vegeta just wanted Launch's eyes to stop searching for a dick bulge. Bulma's cheeks had a pinkish tint, almost like fresh roses - definitely a side effect from the cold, he concluded. Weirdly, he also found this vulnerability of hers physically attractive, increasing his desire to get far, far away from these women. Something was off.
"The sauna might help your nose," he told Bulma awkwardly. "Make use of it."
"Uh, thanks."
Vegeta looked like he wanted to crush a wall to escape. Bulma swung around, hitting her friend's arm as the man sprinted away.
"He wants to fuck you until your toes curl like elbow pasta, Bulma!" Launch's chest bounced as she laughed. "Can't you see that?"
"No, he doesn't!" Bulma said angrily. "He literally just ran from us, all because you couldn't wait for his towel to drop. I certainly don't want to fuck Vegeta either! I still have a boyfriend, remember?"
"Oh, really? You and Yamcha haven't shared a bed for a while. He even talks to Tien more than to you. I should know. Now then, go take care of that cold with my gift. Your yummy housemate gave you good advice. There's another sauna in your bedroom, right?"
Bulma glanced back, thinking about Vegeta's uneasiness. "I never use it."
Each piece of Bulma's clothing made a trail to her luxurious bathroom. She had removed the Sternuta from her pocket and found an extra note from Launch.
"This woman." She sat in front of vanity shelf, covering her face. "What am I going to do with her?"
The note said: "I have a fetish that I trust telling only you about - and Tien, of course. I also have a feeling you might enjoy indulging in it on your own. If you find someone to share those good feelings with, even better. Many hugs, Launch."
A fetish? Bulma peered at the vial on the bathroom counter. This was crazy. All she needed was her warm bed and a strong desire to stay there. She picked up the vial again, carrying it into the bedroom.
After sitting down, she poured a few dots of the soft brown powder into a stiff handkerchief, holding it up to her nostrils. Its pungency, reminiscent of rosemary and cinnamon, quickly provided an opening to inhale the substance. The sensation felt like a fifty-pound weight had been removed from her head.
"Oh, thank heavens." Bulma stared woozily into a hand mirror, not noticing the glassiness in her eyes. "I can finally breathe. Launch is so full of shit. All of that garbage about aphrodisiacs and fetishes just to get me to take medicine and sleep in my own bed."
Her nose now resembled a tiny pink carnation. She touched her chest, sniffling and rubbing her tickly nostrils. She sneezed into the handkerchief, blowing more of the residue everywhere until it hovered overhead like summertime pollen.
The next explosion came faster, followed by two more bursts. Her nose flared as she inhaled deep within the hazy cloud, enjoying her lightheadeness. She sneezed harder, laying her hands on the bathroom door to laugh harder than she had in ages. Her naked body broke out in goosebumps as she stumbled toward the sauna.
Bulma grasped a hand towel, burying her face into its softness as she entered the sauna. Billowy steam clouds curved and spiraled around her shoulders. Her hips swayed, following the vapor's gyrations. The unyielding tickle inside of her nostrils returned, joined by an even friendlier sensation nowhere near her face or chest.
"That sneaky little bitch." Bulma's breaths hitched until her eyes rolled back. "She must have… must have… known I would take too much of whatever this stuff is."
She had not taken too much, actually, though it felt that way. Launch, in her single-minded absentmindedness, forgot to ask what kind of Bulma birth control used. Certain types of hormones increased the effects. Launch also deliberately omitted the mystery powder's apothecary: Fortuneteller Baba.
Bulma probably would have run in the opposite direction had she known that part.
Baba had a wicked sense of humor and dirtier mind than her younger brother, Master Roshi. The old witch just didn't discuss her "quirks" as freely. Launch, who did a good deed for her one day, had been slowly recovering from a cold. Baba concocted the remedy to thank her, explaining that "this gift would keep on giving."
"You always have had a fetish," she crowed, shocking Launch into self-conscious silence. "Many people do, my dear, so don't be ashamed. My voyeuristic fixation is figuring out who they are - and what they like."
Bulma felt a familiar tingle between her legs as she laid face-up on a bench. The mirror on the sauna's ceiling had been designed not to fog, offering a delicious view of her sweaty extremities. The scientist's gaze settled sluggishly on her heaving breasts and the inward curve her abdomen.
"I guess… this is what being high feels like?" she moaned.
But she refused to accept that theory.
Maybe she was in denial. Why did she care so much? The results felt exquisite, thawing the tension from her bones. Fingertips moved toward her clit, extending like an eager pianist. She shivered as they circled the tip, pressing inward. Her thighs tightened as she sighed. The tide of erotic electricity coursing through her mound traveled up her spine. This provoked livelier stroking of her clit and swollen labia, but she wasn't ready to come yet. Her lips parted. She took a quick breath to regain control, slowing the pace of her touch, but the persistent itch within her nostrils only increased.
"Oh, god." Bulma's back lifted partially, arching forward as she sneezed. She tried to stifle those that followed, continuing to pleasure herself down below. Her right arm desperately reached for a towel to cover her face. A strong inhale preceded a total loss of inhibition. Full-throated sneezes and sniffles shook her entire body until it convulsed uncontrollably with the kind of carnal delight that almost felt criminal.
Bulma's mouth burst open with orgasmic laughter. She was just getting started.
"Would you mind waking my daughter for breakfast, young man?!"
Vegeta, who was wearing earbuds, pretended not to hear Panchy's screeching. The headphones were useful for preventing unsolicited conversation almost anywhere, he discovered, especially during his incognito trips through East City. He rarely played music.
"Vegeeetaaa!" Panchy's arms waved like a wild goose. "Can you hear meeeee? I neeeed your help!"
Vegeta's black-eyed glare could have burned down a forest. Damn it. The woman needs to figure out what she wants. Bulma is home now. Case closed.
He didn't understand Panchy's desire to coddle a grown woman - who undoubtedly would be testy after being disturbed. He had absolutely no desire to be drawn into that looming disaster.
"Bulma will arrive when she's ready," he replied, flying over Panchy's head. "I'm busy right now."
"But…but she's sick." Disappointed, Panchy looked almost tearful. "You are part of the reason why she's working so hard lately."
"And your fake tears won't work on me," Vegeta said flatly. "Bulma appeared well enough before retiring last night. Her annoying friend seemed to be helping."
Panchy's face turned purple from anger. "Look here, I need you to stop being an asshole for one day to help me out! You shovel my healthy and very expensive food into your arrogant mouth all hours of the day and night like you're dying from starvation! I select groceries in person and have them delivered every week, and I have to leave now! This is the least you can do!"
"How dare you speak to me like this?!" Vegeta bellowed. "Have you forgotten that I was invited to stay here?"
"How could I?!" Panchy said, stomping in a circle. "I sure as hell didn't offer it. Bulma did! You think I'm doing all of this work this for my health? Screw you, fella!"
Vegeta threw his head back laughing. Well, well. Her true personality finally comes out. Now I see where Bulma gets it. "Maybe you should stop trying so hard."
Panchy looked up, softening her tone. "Yeah, and maybe you should take your own advice sometime."
Vegeta landed, watching the woman strut to her car like a runway model. He threw his towel over his shoulder, heading for the kitchen. From his perspective, Panchy didn't realize he was doing both her and Bulma a favor. He couldn't care less about either one being angry with him over it.
Against his better judgment, he tried to detect Bulma's ki - not the easiest task at the moment.
"Of course. She's already there."
Bulma's head was buried in the fridge when he entered the kitchen. Her perfectly round bum moved higher as she rummaged through the shelves. Vegeta lingered at the entrance, observing that body part a little too closely.
"You and my mother really need to calm the fuck down," she said, sniffling through a shaggy mop of hair over her face. "You're both ridiculous. Also, thanks for not drinking the last drop of orange juice."
"I would have, had you not beaten me to it just now," Vegeta said, approaching her.
Bulma barely looked at him as she drifted from the refrigerator. "Yeah, I know."
Vegeta took the handle, closing the door instead of searching for his own meal. He stepped in Bulma's path to get a clearer view of her condition. Her eyes appeared heavier, but he knew she hadn't been drinking. The alluring tint hadn't left her cheeks, and her nose was redder. She smelled of spice, too, which he also found oddly appealing.
"Problem?" Bulma didn't move, delivering a penetrating gaze that somewhat startled him.
Realizing that their bodies were too close, Vegeta blinked and backed up. "Are...are you all right?"
"I'm fine." Bulma gulped her juice, turning to leave the kitchen. "Launch gave me a home remedy. I'll be one hundred percent better in no time."
Vegeta returned to the fridge, accepting her apparent disinterest in further conversation. "Returning to bed?"
"Yeah, I didn't sleep entirely through the night." Bulma glanced over her shoulder, greeted by a picture-perfect image of Vegeta's gym shorts as he stooped over. He didn't have a clue. Her nipples tingled, shaking her mind out of the previous night's haze.
Her eyes shut.
She needed to get back to work - fast - and away from the Saiyan prince.
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