A Deal Made Sweet
"That'll be forty dollars and twenty-seven cents, ma'am," the cashier said, trying not to stare at all the products the lady had bought, or at the skanky outfit she was wearing.
She had two large packs of the pill and at least ten condoms and she appeared unembarrassed about it.
Bulma handed the man her credit card, signed the receipt, and walked out with her purchases.
Last night, Yaumcha had been ready for more loving, but Bulma refused until she could buy the pill. Of course, the pills she had just bought at the drug store were nothing to the pills she had used her position and money to order. She was able to get 100% effective pills through her connections from Capsule Corps, and complete silence regarding the matter. The ones she had just bought were for a conquest that couldn't wait.
Tonight, Yaumcha claimed to have had an errand that he needed to run. He wasn't lying, but Bulma knew all about the 'errand.' While he was asleep the previous night, She had put a clear, round, and very sticky piece of tape on this shoulder blade. It was a tracker, unobtrusive and unnoticeable to the person wearing it.
When he had called a man with his cell phone, Bulma heard it. Yaumcha had used his connections to buy a pack of "the goods" and was on his way now to pick it up.
Bulma was on her way to find the supplier. She had a proposition for him.
Bulma got into her hover car and slammed the door. She grabbed one of the pill packages and took one. Then, she turned on the car and pushed a button. The screen showed the streets and a red, blinking light.
Good, Bulma thought to herself. He's stopped.
And with a malicious smile, Bulma silently hovered into the air and flew to the location.
---------------Downtown, in a dark, dangerous, area---------------
Bulma watched from afar as Yaumcha, dressed like any other hoodlum on the street, talked with a person hidden by the shadows They had been talking for about three minutes, and Bulma was beginning to grow suspicious. Finally though, Yaumcha pocketed something and slinked away. The person slipped almost completely into the shadows.
Alright, Bulma. Are you ready for another scene in the drama of your life?
After counting to 120, She started running, letting her chest fall up and down, unsupported. She shouted, "Help me! Help! Please!" She tripped, falling to the ground right in front of the person.
Bulma slowly got up, whimpering. She looked around wildly. Her eyes found the person, not two feet away from her.
"Help," she whispered. "You hide me, I do anything for you." She let her body imply nicely what she didn't say.
She was wearing a tight, mini, leather skirt that barely covered her butt, fishnet stocking that ended four inches below the skirt and that were held up by leather grips, a thong, High leather boots, a dirty, white, midriff bearing shirt that left nothing to the imagination, and bright and gaudy make up.
For a second, Bulma almost thought that man wouldn't help her, but his lust won over his brains.
"Come with me." He said roughly, walking into a door directly behind him that Bulma hadn't even seen before. Surprised, she followed him up some stairs into a tiny, badly lit room. In one corner there was a pile of fabric, which Bulma took for the bed. Scattered around the room were pieces of trash that Bulma would never have kept in her house. There was a rotten wooden crate full of dirty newspapers and wood randomly scattered throughout the small room. A number of other crates made up the remainder of the furniture, along with other piles of things that Bulma couldn't identify.
There were no windows, and the only light came from a bug zapper. It emitted a buzz and bathed the contents of the room in an eerie blue tinge.
To top it off, there was a foul smell that Bulma didn't care to even try to identify.
The old Bulma had long since shrieked and fainted. The new Bulma licked her lips and prepared for a little bargaining.
"Who you runnin' from?" The man asked.
"Some people, tryin' rape me." She said softly. "I said they pay, they started cursin' and a chasin' me. I think I lost them while back, kept runnin' for safety. You," She walked over to him. "You save me? Maybe pay me?" She asked coyly.
"I don't got cash," he said roughly. "Not with cash."
"I unnerstan. Maybe with somethin' else?"
He was silent for a while. "I have some goods," he said finally.
"I take goods," Bulma said solemnly. She took the bottom of his sweater and pulled it slowly, very slowly, over his head.
The man, no! Not man! A boy, not yet 17! With a huge scar on his throat that had long since healed, but it had forever altered his voice. He had the voice of a man in his twenties or thirties. Bulma tried not to show shock with her facial expression, but the boy saw something he didn't like. He pushed Bulma away.
"What your problem?" he said harshly. "I no freak show!"
"Where you been my whole life?" She whispered. The boy's face changed expressions.
"Huh?"
She walked back over to him, improvising as she went.
"Never I seen such a good mix of handsome face and sexy growl," she said, grinning. She took his next shirt over his head, and his next. She tried to ignore his dirty, malnourished body as she kissed him. She led him over to (what she assumed was) the bed and lay down. The boy stood still, towering over her. She didn't like that. She got up to her knees.
She played with the draw strings of his pants, loosening them and letting them fall to the ground. She stroked the skin around his manhood, teasing him, never following through.
He growled with his sexy growl and got to his knees. He could face her now. She didn't have to know this was his first time. He pulled the shirt over her head and the boots off her feet. He took off her tights, skirt, and finally, the thong.
Foregoing all foreplay, he gently laid Bulma down and thrust into her.
Bulma gasped. That felt good! It was different then Yaumcha.
He hadn't climaxed yet, so Bulma wrapped her legs around him whispered into his ear,
"Go up and down."
He did, slowly first. Bulma moaned. That felt so good. He started moving faster and faster, and he grunted with pleasure. Soon they were moving together in a rush of pleasure and he climaxed, exploding in her.
They clung to each other, a link to the physical world.
"Keep in for a while," Bulma begged. "Please."
"Of course," he said.
"What your name?" she whispered.
"People call me BJ Max."
"What I call you?"
"Richie, please. That's what I want you to call me."
"You call me Sophie?"
"Of course."
"Mmm. It even sounds good. Richie and Sophie."
He was silent. He put his hands on either side of Bulma's face and pushed up. He looked down at her bared chest. With a grin, he started sucking on them.
---------------Later---------------
Bulma was amazed. Truth be told, she felt no shame in sleeping with Richie only two nights after her first night of sex. She liked Richie. He didn't only think of himself, doing things that made both of them happy.
Bulma had let Richie stay in her ten minutes, as they did a little "post"play. Then they started over again, foreplaying for an hour.
All Bulma could think about was the next time she could come and see him. She would demand a price, of course. She must never forget that. But so what if she got the goods in a way that made both of them happy?
Richie watched Bulma as she got dressed.
"Will you ever come back?" he said roughly.
"Is sky blue?" she said, shortening the straps on her tights. When she looked up, she flashed him a grin.
"You amazing. I always come back!" Richie stood up and Bulma rushed into his arms. She held back genuine tears.
"I don't want you to leave," Richie said into Bulma's neck. He squeezed her tightly. Bulma's heart jumped. Then she chided herself. Remember the plan, Bulma. Hurt him now, if only a little, so he knows not to make such an attachment now. The old Bulma cried, as she had been crying ever since catching wind of the new Bulma's plan. "You're only hurting another innocent soul!" She shouted. "Shut up, you weaking! I'm ensuring my safety for the future! Nothing more! What I'm about to do will teach him a good lesson!"
As they hugged, Bulma whispered into his ear, "You get me goods?"
Richie stiffened and dropped his arms. Why did Sophie have to say something like that? He thought that Sophie felt something growing in her, similar to the emotions Richie himself was feeling.
But a deal was a deal. Richie let his mask back on and grabbed his sweater. He pulled out a handful of individually wrapped white pills and thrust his hand out in Bulma's direction. She smiled and slipped them (somewhere) into her shirt.
"A deal made sweet, huh?" Richie asked ironically. That caught Bulma off guard.
"No, Richie. The deal is sweet." She said vehemently.
---------------Back in Bulma's room---------------
Bulma toweled off her recently cleaned hair. She sat on her bed, wearing nothing but her robe. She appeared like any normal teenager, tired and ready to sleep.
Inside her head, though, her thoughts raced. The old and new Bulmas argued.
"You're body is a temple! You're letting it become desecrated!"
"You think I'm going to go out and fuck the world?"
"Hey, why not? You know that you pretty and you're using that against people to get bad things!"
"Well, you listen here. You don't know what you're talking about! I control this body now! What's done is done and I've only done it with two men! Not ten, not twenty! And I don't plan on doing it with anyone else unless the need arises!"
"But you don't deny that you'll use your body."
"All it takes is all you've got. And baby, I've got plenty."
The conversation was over.
A/N: Chapter four. I think this fic is way too lemony, but she seriously won't be sleeping around anymore. While, not for a while. As you can see, the grief over her father has given her two personalities vying for control of the same body. One is the Bulma that everyone else remembers. And the new one, well, she's tougher, stronger then the old Bulma. She has controls the body and thus, the will of Bulma. Read and review please.
"That'll be forty dollars and twenty-seven cents, ma'am," the cashier said, trying not to stare at all the products the lady had bought, or at the skanky outfit she was wearing.
She had two large packs of the pill and at least ten condoms and she appeared unembarrassed about it.
Bulma handed the man her credit card, signed the receipt, and walked out with her purchases.
Last night, Yaumcha had been ready for more loving, but Bulma refused until she could buy the pill. Of course, the pills she had just bought at the drug store were nothing to the pills she had used her position and money to order. She was able to get 100% effective pills through her connections from Capsule Corps, and complete silence regarding the matter. The ones she had just bought were for a conquest that couldn't wait.
Tonight, Yaumcha claimed to have had an errand that he needed to run. He wasn't lying, but Bulma knew all about the 'errand.' While he was asleep the previous night, She had put a clear, round, and very sticky piece of tape on this shoulder blade. It was a tracker, unobtrusive and unnoticeable to the person wearing it.
When he had called a man with his cell phone, Bulma heard it. Yaumcha had used his connections to buy a pack of "the goods" and was on his way now to pick it up.
Bulma was on her way to find the supplier. She had a proposition for him.
Bulma got into her hover car and slammed the door. She grabbed one of the pill packages and took one. Then, she turned on the car and pushed a button. The screen showed the streets and a red, blinking light.
Good, Bulma thought to herself. He's stopped.
And with a malicious smile, Bulma silently hovered into the air and flew to the location.
---------------Downtown, in a dark, dangerous, area---------------
Bulma watched from afar as Yaumcha, dressed like any other hoodlum on the street, talked with a person hidden by the shadows They had been talking for about three minutes, and Bulma was beginning to grow suspicious. Finally though, Yaumcha pocketed something and slinked away. The person slipped almost completely into the shadows.
Alright, Bulma. Are you ready for another scene in the drama of your life?
After counting to 120, She started running, letting her chest fall up and down, unsupported. She shouted, "Help me! Help! Please!" She tripped, falling to the ground right in front of the person.
Bulma slowly got up, whimpering. She looked around wildly. Her eyes found the person, not two feet away from her.
"Help," she whispered. "You hide me, I do anything for you." She let her body imply nicely what she didn't say.
She was wearing a tight, mini, leather skirt that barely covered her butt, fishnet stocking that ended four inches below the skirt and that were held up by leather grips, a thong, High leather boots, a dirty, white, midriff bearing shirt that left nothing to the imagination, and bright and gaudy make up.
For a second, Bulma almost thought that man wouldn't help her, but his lust won over his brains.
"Come with me." He said roughly, walking into a door directly behind him that Bulma hadn't even seen before. Surprised, she followed him up some stairs into a tiny, badly lit room. In one corner there was a pile of fabric, which Bulma took for the bed. Scattered around the room were pieces of trash that Bulma would never have kept in her house. There was a rotten wooden crate full of dirty newspapers and wood randomly scattered throughout the small room. A number of other crates made up the remainder of the furniture, along with other piles of things that Bulma couldn't identify.
There were no windows, and the only light came from a bug zapper. It emitted a buzz and bathed the contents of the room in an eerie blue tinge.
To top it off, there was a foul smell that Bulma didn't care to even try to identify.
The old Bulma had long since shrieked and fainted. The new Bulma licked her lips and prepared for a little bargaining.
"Who you runnin' from?" The man asked.
"Some people, tryin' rape me." She said softly. "I said they pay, they started cursin' and a chasin' me. I think I lost them while back, kept runnin' for safety. You," She walked over to him. "You save me? Maybe pay me?" She asked coyly.
"I don't got cash," he said roughly. "Not with cash."
"I unnerstan. Maybe with somethin' else?"
He was silent for a while. "I have some goods," he said finally.
"I take goods," Bulma said solemnly. She took the bottom of his sweater and pulled it slowly, very slowly, over his head.
The man, no! Not man! A boy, not yet 17! With a huge scar on his throat that had long since healed, but it had forever altered his voice. He had the voice of a man in his twenties or thirties. Bulma tried not to show shock with her facial expression, but the boy saw something he didn't like. He pushed Bulma away.
"What your problem?" he said harshly. "I no freak show!"
"Where you been my whole life?" She whispered. The boy's face changed expressions.
"Huh?"
She walked back over to him, improvising as she went.
"Never I seen such a good mix of handsome face and sexy growl," she said, grinning. She took his next shirt over his head, and his next. She tried to ignore his dirty, malnourished body as she kissed him. She led him over to (what she assumed was) the bed and lay down. The boy stood still, towering over her. She didn't like that. She got up to her knees.
She played with the draw strings of his pants, loosening them and letting them fall to the ground. She stroked the skin around his manhood, teasing him, never following through.
He growled with his sexy growl and got to his knees. He could face her now. She didn't have to know this was his first time. He pulled the shirt over her head and the boots off her feet. He took off her tights, skirt, and finally, the thong.
Foregoing all foreplay, he gently laid Bulma down and thrust into her.
Bulma gasped. That felt good! It was different then Yaumcha.
He hadn't climaxed yet, so Bulma wrapped her legs around him whispered into his ear,
"Go up and down."
He did, slowly first. Bulma moaned. That felt so good. He started moving faster and faster, and he grunted with pleasure. Soon they were moving together in a rush of pleasure and he climaxed, exploding in her.
They clung to each other, a link to the physical world.
"Keep in for a while," Bulma begged. "Please."
"Of course," he said.
"What your name?" she whispered.
"People call me BJ Max."
"What I call you?"
"Richie, please. That's what I want you to call me."
"You call me Sophie?"
"Of course."
"Mmm. It even sounds good. Richie and Sophie."
He was silent. He put his hands on either side of Bulma's face and pushed up. He looked down at her bared chest. With a grin, he started sucking on them.
---------------Later---------------
Bulma was amazed. Truth be told, she felt no shame in sleeping with Richie only two nights after her first night of sex. She liked Richie. He didn't only think of himself, doing things that made both of them happy.
Bulma had let Richie stay in her ten minutes, as they did a little "post"play. Then they started over again, foreplaying for an hour.
All Bulma could think about was the next time she could come and see him. She would demand a price, of course. She must never forget that. But so what if she got the goods in a way that made both of them happy?
Richie watched Bulma as she got dressed.
"Will you ever come back?" he said roughly.
"Is sky blue?" she said, shortening the straps on her tights. When she looked up, she flashed him a grin.
"You amazing. I always come back!" Richie stood up and Bulma rushed into his arms. She held back genuine tears.
"I don't want you to leave," Richie said into Bulma's neck. He squeezed her tightly. Bulma's heart jumped. Then she chided herself. Remember the plan, Bulma. Hurt him now, if only a little, so he knows not to make such an attachment now. The old Bulma cried, as she had been crying ever since catching wind of the new Bulma's plan. "You're only hurting another innocent soul!" She shouted. "Shut up, you weaking! I'm ensuring my safety for the future! Nothing more! What I'm about to do will teach him a good lesson!"
As they hugged, Bulma whispered into his ear, "You get me goods?"
Richie stiffened and dropped his arms. Why did Sophie have to say something like that? He thought that Sophie felt something growing in her, similar to the emotions Richie himself was feeling.
But a deal was a deal. Richie let his mask back on and grabbed his sweater. He pulled out a handful of individually wrapped white pills and thrust his hand out in Bulma's direction. She smiled and slipped them (somewhere) into her shirt.
"A deal made sweet, huh?" Richie asked ironically. That caught Bulma off guard.
"No, Richie. The deal is sweet." She said vehemently.
---------------Back in Bulma's room---------------
Bulma toweled off her recently cleaned hair. She sat on her bed, wearing nothing but her robe. She appeared like any normal teenager, tired and ready to sleep.
Inside her head, though, her thoughts raced. The old and new Bulmas argued.
"You're body is a temple! You're letting it become desecrated!"
"You think I'm going to go out and fuck the world?"
"Hey, why not? You know that you pretty and you're using that against people to get bad things!"
"Well, you listen here. You don't know what you're talking about! I control this body now! What's done is done and I've only done it with two men! Not ten, not twenty! And I don't plan on doing it with anyone else unless the need arises!"
"But you don't deny that you'll use your body."
"All it takes is all you've got. And baby, I've got plenty."
The conversation was over.
A/N: Chapter four. I think this fic is way too lemony, but she seriously won't be sleeping around anymore. While, not for a while. As you can see, the grief over her father has given her two personalities vying for control of the same body. One is the Bulma that everyone else remembers. And the new one, well, she's tougher, stronger then the old Bulma. She has controls the body and thus, the will of Bulma. Read and review please.