Hmmm, can i pose a question, what is it about the Truth or Dare story that grabs your attention? I though it might be the unusual pairings but when i meantion Transformations may very well have a futavidelxFuta18xBulma threesome, no one seems interested at all. I’m not bothered, i’m just curious, and it’s a usful point to know when planing future stories.
Here is the first 2,000 words of Transformations, what i find funny though is the document has 7,000+ words. I’ve got more than 5000 wors worth of ideas and notions written down for something that is still only 2k. I’m not sure if i want to laugh or cry.
Anyway, here is a free preview, all thoughts welcome, but remember this is setting up a GohanxVidel sex scene 😉
How have I come to this?
Lightning streaked across the blackened sky, scorching the overcast heavens with a brilliance that turned darkness into blue-white light and threw the canopy of dense black clouds into sharp relief. Not so much as flinching under before it’s fury, Videl numbly watched bolt stab the sky, the glare turning her ivory skin ghostly white against the lustrous curtain of raven hair spread out beneath her.
It had been Gohan’s idea to have a skylight in their bedroom. He’d wanted to be able to snuggle together and stare up at the sky and make love under the stars like they had when they’d first started dating, back when they’d been hormonal teens who’d spend the long afternoons training out in the middle of nowhere, far away from anyone who might overhear. Their growing careers, as well as the recent real-estate developments across the 439mountain area increasing the risk of discovery, had put a stop to those ‘workouts’ however and Videl had been so surprised, and turned on, by his uncharacteristically romantic gesture that she had agreed immediately before kissing him hard and demanding he take her, there across the architect’s desk…
No, stop that! She chided, scrunching her eyes closed. Rolling onto her side, she drew her knees up to her chin and hugged herself against the heat coiling round her belly and that familiar, needy throbbing in her centre which always came before… No! It would not take her again. She was Videl Son. She was stronger than this. She would fight it. She must fight it.
How have I come to this?
Gohan. Shame twisted round and over her belly in tighter and tighter knots at the thought of her husband, but a part of her leapt and despite the heat spreading through her she couldn’t resist twisting to peer longingly up at the skylight. She wanted him back, here, home in this bed with her where he belonged. Yet then could he ever forgive her? She had done the unthinkable, broken her marriage vows to him, and risked everything they had together. And she’d enjoyed it. Videl had relished every second.
Red and sore from so many hours crying, deep cerulean eyes peered longingly up at the roiling canopy, straining to catch any glimpse of golden fire amidst the enveloping storm. Somewhere out there, beyond the storm and the earth and all the furthest reaches of the solar system, lost amidst the sea of innumerable stars, Gohan was swept up in the race to gather up the dragon balls before the earth was destroyed by their mysterious magic.
When Goku told them what had transpired on Dende’s lookout, of the planet’s imminent destruction and the plan to search for them using an advanced radar fitted into a new capsule corp starship, Videl knew that her husband would go along with his father and the other saiyans. He was just too noble. It didn’t matter that he had given up recreational martial arts so they could start a family, Gohan was still a Saiyan and would never stand aside and let the others risk their lives if he thought he could help. And they needed him then, so when he’d said he was going too, she didn’t object.
Later, when they were back home and Pan had left to spend the night round a friend’s, she had slipped into her sexiest nighty and slunk into the bedroom. The room was dark but for the low light filtering in through the skylight above and her chemise, a near transparent slip of silk that would have left nothing to the imagination if not for the delicate trails of floral filigree spiralling from hem to neck, didn’t make so much as a rustle as she moved towards the bed. Clad in nought but a pair of drawstring slacks that did nothing to hide the muscular thighs within, Gohan sat perched on the edge of their bed with his fingers laced and head bowed. Tumbles of spiked ink-coloured hair blocked her from seeing the worry etched across her husband’s broad, handsome face. The pose accentuated the muscles of his back and gave his skin the skin the look of milk marble. To the casual eye, he looked deep in thought but Videl knew the demi-Saiyan too well to be deceived, or to miss the all too familiar way he’d obsessively rub the back of his neck or have that haunted faraway look.
Seemingly lost in thought, he gave no sign of noticing her approach, but she knew he sensed her, feeling her presence in the same ripple of awareness that coursed through her own skin.
“You know you have to go.” She husked, coming up behind her husband on her hands and knees to nuzzle the sensitive spot where his collar met his neck. Draping one arm over his shoulder, soft fingers gliding down his chest to brush over a flat nipple and teasing it to stiffness, she curled the other round his waist and nestled into the ridge of his back. Tight muscles quivered under her touch, belying his stoic exterior, and Videl didn’t fight the playful smile tugging at her full red lips. “They need you.”
“So do you” he said without looking up, the cultured rumble of his voice deadly soft with an intensity that sent quivers racing through her belly. For all his small easy smiles and customary good natured, Videl knew there was a terrible rage burning inside Gohan that, when released, made even his mother appear calm and docile. She had caught a brief glimpse of it at the world’s martial arts tournament, when that monster Spopovich broke every bone in her body and left her for dead just off the ring. But there was no hint of that anger in his worlds. Only a well of barely restrained emotion that made her heart ache and she instinctively hugged him tighter and the air around them seemed to grow noticeably warmer at the feeling of his hard body fitting against hers. They were so close, he couldn’t fail to notice the weight of her bosom squashed against his back, nor how her nipples had stiffened and tented through her chemise.
The curious part of her, that had found him so peculiar when they first met on that street corner so many years ago, wanted to ask him what was wrong even though she already knew the answer, just so she could tell him everything will be all be alright. She’d have done anything just to make him smile again. But it would do no good.
His father and the others needed him, they both knew it. Dendi only knew what waited for them out there. But, even with the Dragon Balls, some demons could never be easily set aside. The last time Gohan had left her to go fight, the evil he had tried to destroy had come to her and there had been nothing he or any of the surviving Z fighters could do to save her. And while the eternal dragon might have wiped all memory of the world Martial arts tournament and Buu from the people of the earth; the monster still lurked in Gohan’s memory.
It hurt her to see him so tortured by his past. Her husband was big and strong, stronger than any one Videl had ever known, but he wasn’t his father. Beneath the delicious package of the handsome male and his toned, sinuous muscle, there was a sensitive side to his soul that bore the weight of the dead and the friend’s he’d lost. They hung around his neck like a hangman’s noose. For twenty years, she’d watched him struggle with the guilt of surviving just long enough to watch everyone he loved be ether murdered or devoured by the creation and believing it was his fault. Believing that he could have saved them if he had only kept training, if he had just killed Buu in the wasteland, if he had been there, if he had…
Gohan twisted in her arms, pivoting round far enough to fix her with a hard look, his eyes like deep black diamonds. “You and Pan are the only things that matter to me.” He said slowly, his voice heavy, suddenly choked with emotion. “If earth is attacked… If anything happened to you because I wasn’t here, I could never forgiv-”
“Stop it!” Her voice was sharper than she had intended, but she couldn’t help it. “Just stop it.” The anxiety in his voice, the fear and doubt roiling his onyx eyes; it all but broke her heart. Unbidden tears began to burn her eyes, making his look of surprise blur and ripple. No, damn it, she wouldn’t cry. “Buu is dead, Gohan.” She said firmly, swallowing the sob in her throat. “It’s over. We beat him. You. Me. Your father. All your friends. All of us. We did it together. That monster is gone, forever. It’s not coming back.”
Gohan was unappeased. In fact, he seemed to bristle at the suggestion and there was an unmissable coolness to his voice that swallowed all the emotion there as he said. “And what of the next?”
His words hit her like a hammer and confused by his sudden switch, Videl blinked as she tried to think of who he meant. Could there be anything like Buu still out there? No, it wasn’t possible. The Universe wasn’t big enough for two such terrible monsters. “Gohan, there is nothing left to-”
“There is always something else Videl!” His voice was flat, like he’d been commenting on something as mundane as the weather, yet with a forceful certainty that bartered no argument. “Planet brokers, slavers, galactic tyrants, engendered freaks and monsters, it doesn’t matter. There is always something else out to destroy earth.” With each word his expression darkened, his features growing ever more strained with a tension that belied his placid exterior and rolled off him in waves of raw sexuality. It gave him a more primal look than Videl could ever remember seeing on him and had her core clenching in hot palpitations. “Every time we let out guard down, whenever we think it’s over and we can start our lives again, they hit us. And then it starts all over again. Running. Hiding. Watching on helplessly as we’re killed off one by one…”
His voice trailed off and a cool trickle crept up his skin as he once again heard Piccolo’s anguished roar cut through the boom of Nappa’s attack as the Namek took the blow that would have otherwise obliterated the boy. Ensnared in the ghosts of memory, he was no longer seeing his wife but watching his master crumple to the grass with wide disbelieving eyes. Somewhere, deep down a part of him wanted to rejoice. There were so many times he had hated Piccolo, times he had wanted to attack and beat and pummel the Namekian until his arms burned and the green, hard-faced bastard couldn’t get up. He’d even dreamed it once, a dark furious dream full of anger and primal rage. Yet now, he felt only a hollow sense of emptiness and disbelief as he stared down at the creature who had tormented him for a year. Piccolo… saved me?
It was almost impossible for the boy to place the husk lying before him as the fierce fighter who wreaked havoc across the earth just six years ago. Where piccolo had been green, this was a shade of raw grey-black. All The muscles and strength in him had been burnt away, leaving him gaunt, shrunken and skeletal, with skin like dried leather stretched over a rack, drawn and much too tight where it had melted to the bone beneath, and thick blood oozing up from below. Where there should have been hands, there was only stumps of black bone and lazy tendrils of grey smoke curling into the air. His pointed ears and antenna were gone too.