Author's Notes: The line about Ginyu's numerical power level was changed to something more generic. I think numbers in the billions can get tedious both from writing and reading viewpoints, so I'm going to stay away from them.
In the back corner of Gohan's mind, that sinister energy signature in the north vanished, not a rapid suppression; it simply vanished in an instant. Tien was still two to three miles away, Piccolo much further. The attacked Humans were near-death save for a terrified dozen. Relief was overcoming their terror. The culprit had fled.
Instant Transmission? Not impossible.
"What's happening?" 18 asked. Her bikini top was back on.
A facial tick pinched his eye. "It's nothing. Why did you put your bikini back on?" Meanwhile, he was still naked. Unfair.
"I don't want you to get the wrong idea."
"What is the right idea? Leaving me frustrated?"
She shrugged and impishly said, "You're much more… forceful now. I like this side of you, Gohan."
"You want forceful?"
She didn't answer. She definitely wanted it, asking for it. At least some part of her strange girly brain was.
Energy surged into his muscles. He dove onto her, pinned her wrists against the blanket and compacted sand. His private place rubbed against her slim belly. "Scream for me." His voice was grizzly. "Scream as loud as you can. No no one will hear you."
But she didn't scream. She didn't resist or squirm or scowl. She lied there unmoving, as if he weren't there at all, sunbathing. Her expression was blank—a dead android. She was pretending to be a dead body.
His grip on her wrists tightened. He growled, "What are you doing?"
"If you need my body this much, I'm here for you, Gohan. Get it over with."
"I want you to struggle." His insides were burning. "Struggle for me."
"No," she said calmly.
"Struggle! Fight back, 18!"
"No." She almost smirked. "Do you want to fight or do you want to have sex?"
His face scrunched. "Both. We'll fight, and then I'll overpower you into very forceful sex while you struggle and scream for help." The Saiyan in him liked the sound of that.
"Then why haven't you fully powered up yet? You're not taking me seriously."
So this was what it really was about. All day, she had been badgering him about about his full power and second transformation. Maybe his power aroused her. "If I transform again, I could kill you by accident."
"Are you that clumsy? You were talking the importance of energy control just before." Her eyes rolled. "It sounds like you need practice, great savior."
Now the pieces fell into place. This was a continuation of their date yesterday. She was the one who had convinced him to stay in Super Saiyan. His grip slackened. "Are you that scared of Beerus and Buu?"
"I don't want a repeat of what happened with Cell. When I was absorbed, it was like I was going back into my pod, and I thought it would be forever. I thought it was the end of my eternal life." Her eyes were tender. "You're my protector now. You should be as powerful as you can be, and you're not getting any stronger like this. You're not even breaking a sweat."
She wasn't wrong. His current transformation level was taking a near-zero toll on his reserves. The strain on his body was so insignificant, so ignorable, that he might soon be able to maintain it while asleep. At this rate, it would take years to make noticeable progress. Quite pointless.
Can it even be done. The energy drain at the next level is something else entirely. And what about the ground tremors I'll cause? People will notice and worry.
18 continued, "Gohan. Do your second transformation and stay in that form everyday. Push yourself as far as you can go. If you do it, I'll do whatever you want."
His heart jumped. "Whatever I want?"
"Mmhm. Whatever fantasy you want. You can think of me as your obedient sex slave, and I'll love every moment. How does that sound?"
Sex slave. Sex. Slave. The naughtiest two-word combination possible. He lecherously sneered and said, "That'd be perfect. Let's start now."
"I agree." Her chin lifted. Her smug smirk returned. "There's an island further to the north that you can ruin."
Sliding up her body, he brought her hands together above her head. "We'll train after."
"But you're not powered up. How do I know you're not planning to cheat?"
"I'm not."
"Hmmm… I can't be sure."
His expression hardened, and so did hers. They stared down each other for a half minute, a strong breeze blowing from the oceans, carrying salt. She wasn't bluffing; she really would lie there like a statue made of soft clay, a dead android. She loved to make things difficult for him.
His jaw rolled in frustration. His aura flared as he let go of her wrists. "Lead the way."
Lithely, she stood and shot up at a leisurely speed, and he followed for over five minutes, flying over countless similar beaches and lagoons in this archipelago. Soon they were over a long stretch of open water before a large island. Beaches were thin. Waves were more violent. There were few trees, but the grass was tall and dense and covered most of the land. Decent training ground.
Five hundred feet in the air, they faced each other with ten yards in between. He was still naked; he didn't care. "Are you sure you want this? Last chance."
"You've annoyingly bragged since yesterday about your true power. I hope you weren't exaggerating. Wouldn't it be humiliating if I end up beating you into the ground?"
So be it.
He floated backward another twenty yards and closed his eyes. One steadying breath cleared his mind, and then he was back at the Cell Games, five years ago. All the horrific details he had buried came rushing back: the screams, the blood, the real cries for help. He once again saw it all in full detail. Yamcha, Tien, Krillin, Piccolo—they didn't stand a chance against those blue demons. And Father too, worn out from his battle with Cell. Their life forces were fading.
Krillin's bones snapped, Cell laughing at his pain.
A vortex of gale-force winds stormed around Gohan. Groans scraped up his throat while every muscle tensed. He let go, all restraint and all civility, giving into total savagery. Lightning boomed. Water spouts formed. The ground started shaking. The ceiling to the next level cracked and gave way. His groans climaxed into a furious, deafening scream. An eruption of pure energy whitened the shaking landscape.
His blood pumped with ecstasy, his aura crackling with electricity. He had missed this far too much. "Happy now?" he asked. His voice was a bit deeper. It was harder to speak under this enormous strain.
18, his beautiful life partner, was staring at him wide-eyed. That was right; she could now sense his power. Impressively, she regained composure: "I like the new hairstyle. Very wild." She shifted into a semi-defensive fighting stance.
He dashed behind her, and before she knew what was happening, he undid her bikini top and dropped it to the ground. "Much better."
She flinched. "I couldn't even see you."
He fondled her right breast, thumbed her nipple. Taking advantage of her was so easy now. He should've done this in the beginning. "You might as well start begging."
Grunting in defiance, she whacked away his hand, and he let her. Her elbow drove back, sluggishly.
He let the elbow pass with a measured inch to spare. "Don't hold back, 18." He patted her plump bottom.
"I'm not," she hissed. Electricity sparked at his fists. Her body twisted into a slow roundhouse kick.
He floated backward. Her toes missed his face. Too easy. "There's no point. Cell was faster in his second form."
Like a ballet dancer, she spun around into a sideways kick with her other leg, again missing before pulling back into a defensive stance, except now her knuckles were whiter. She threw a left-hand punch—miss. Her right-hand follow-up was expected—another miss. Her lips pinched, and she launched into a flurry of lefts and rights, all missing. Her fighting form was pristine. She only lacked strength and speed.
She then flew backward and presented her palms. Energy blasts fired, ten per second.
Gohan concentrated energy into his right hand. Every single blast was slapped away, and he made sure to deflect at an upward angle away from the ground. Explosions went off all around him, clearing the sky of clouds and buffering his crackling aura with ignorable shockwaves. The blasts were increasing in power and rate. Each explosion was probably enough to disintegrate the planet's core, yet not one could scratch him. He was growing bored of this unending barrage. He channeled energy into his left hand, releasing a golden-white beam that swallowed incoming blasts.
She wisely dove leftward. She was out of breath for only a few seconds before she released her own beam.
His wrists crossed in front of his face. He blocked head-on. Her primal energy was no match against his, but little by little, his very finite reserves diminished at a rate greater than he had assumed. He had more energy five years ago. He was weaker by maybe ten to twenty percent. Not good. Not good at all.
No other choice, he flew into the into beam with his aura cutting through like a drill. He seized her fingers. Very gently, his knee pushed into her stomach.
Too hard.
Her pupils contracted to points. "Gohan, stop," she wheezed. But she wasn't done. Her right fist swung, met his nose.
His head didn't budge. He took hold of her fist—his loosest grip. "We should continue when I'm nearing exhaustion. It'll be a fairer fight. But I've won this round, and you know what that means. You're mine now." He pulled the knot at her hip, then yanked the fabric.
As her bikini's bottom piece came apart, she covered her private place and her breasts. A rosy blush tinted her face. "How is this possible? You're a fourteen-year-old boy."
"I honestly can't say I know how." He laid a hand on her arm. "Now, let's get back to our secret spot. You owe me a good struggle, my obedient sex slave. I want to hear you beg like you did last night. I know you love it."
"You're sick," she spat.
"That's more like it. Let's go."
She chewed her bottom lip. "Please, can we take it slow?"
He was going to say no, but an idea blossomed from his waist. "How about you put on a show for me? Use your pleasuring technique on yourself while I watch. Tell me more about your fantasy from last night."
Her blush reddened. Her knees press together. "Are you serious?"
"I am."
"Gohan. No."
Saliva pooled in his mouth. "Louder." When she refused, he gently lifted the tip of her chin with one finger. "You asked for it, 18. But I'll give you a couple minutes to get ready. Go on ahead while I fetch your bikini top."
She immediately broke eye contact and flew south.
He dropped to the ground, landed on his toes, breathing deeply. Sweat was all over his body. His aura faded. The sheer strain of this transformation was infinitely more than the first level of Super Saiyan. He wasn't sure if he could keep it up for the rest of the day let alone the rest of the week. And for the rest of the month? Impossible. He would fair better training under five hundred times gravity all day.
He picked up the bikini top and took flight, taking it as slow as possible. He knew one thing: if he could master this form, then no one would ever be able to harm 18. She was forever his.