Some time after the Cell Games had passed, Bulma had made a new BFF in Eighteen, to Vegeta's great displeasure.

The ultimate betrayal. His prized courtesan, associating with that imitation-human on such an intimate level. It boiled his blood. The ladies did everything together, from shopping for vibrators, to going out to get their hair done, and telling each other stories about their dwarfish boyfriends bending over backwards to perform sexual tasks for them.

And it seemed that one day, somehow, they'd broached a topic of extreme depravity, and they'd decided upon involving Vegeta in a threesome with them.

Vegeta was currently attempting to scoot away from the machine that was now sharing his and Bulma's bed. A muscle beneath one eye began to spasm as his blood pressure skyrocketed.

He could only look on with hatred as the mother of his child helped strip the mechanical monster of her lingerie.

"Oh, Eighteen, they're so big!" Bulma cooed, weighing the blonde's succulent knockers in her hands. The other woman was silent, but she smiled proudly.

"Okay, Veggie—Don't look at me like that!—now, we're going to lube you up and sandwich you between us. I'll be on top, and you'll be taking it up the ass with her strap-on."

Vegeta tried to scurry away to the furthest corner of the bed, but Bulma leapt on him, grabbing him by his waist and wrestling him to the mattress.

"You will not make me couple with that appliance!" he roared.

"Fuck you! You'll do as your Queen tells you!"

"No!"

"Who had to sneak my parents' cleaning bots into your gravity capsule when you coated the walls with your blood and semen? I did, that's who! And I'll do it again if I have to! So you must do something for me in exchange!"

The gnome scowled at her. Then he looked to the bionic woman, who didn't seem perturbed by nor interested in the quarrel taking place before her. She was staring at a photo hanging on the wall, one depicting Vegeta huddling possessively over a holiday feast, a gravy-soiled hand reaching toward an entire turkey, his other hand grasping for the offending camera that had been shoved in his face and forever capturing his image on film.

Fine, then. Just like that Christmas dinner he had hogged, he would pilfer any pleasure derived from this deplorable act all for himself. He would fuck this blonde bitch so fast that the hard drive inside her would not have time to carry out .

Vegeta sneered hideously. Finally, he would get his vengeance against her for the beating she'd given him.

"I don't normally lower myself to being serviced by appliances. Don't be surprised if your metal interior corrodes away when I'm through with you," he boasted.

"We'll see," Eighteen replied coolly. "That is, if you can get it up to begin with. I'm sure if Goku were here he'd fare better."

Immediately enraged, the prince hurled pejoratives from his snarling mouth, at the same time whipping out his gnarled chode, as if drawing his sword for battle.

"Oh. It's so puny. Just like the rest of you."

The android simply flipped him over, a metallic creaking coming from her arms as she did so. Bulma assisted her friend in ripping Vegeta's shorts down to his ankles.

Eighteen grimaced. "Gross. What's with the big brown spot above his butt? That's not herpes, is it?"

"No, that's just what's left of his tail. But I thought the same thing the first time I saw it."

Ice-cold fingers made contact with his bare ass, sending a shiver down Vegeta's spine. He felt a moment of comfort when the familiar warmth of Bulma's hand caressed a buttock, but relief was short-lived when Eighteen's steel hand clamped his dangling sack and yanked hard. An agonized bellow escaped Vegeta's throat.

"Ha ha! He sounds like a goat when you do that. Do it again."

Vegeta kicked the android, but all this did was shatter his foot against her iron body. She wrangled the fallen prince to the mattress, crushing him beneath her heavy robotic form. Vegeta could only struggle helplessly in the machine's powerful hold.

"I might have to break your arms again if you don't comply." She didn't even have to raise her voice above its soft timbre to send a chill rippling through the Saiyan.

Bulma encouraged the other woman, "Ooh, threaten him some more. That gets me so hot."

Vegeta couldn't fight back a pained whimper. Bulma was supposed to be on his side. And now she'd made him engage in copulating with the cyborg.

He was quickly reminded of how Bulma had forced him to watch "The Terminator" with her the other night, and now he wept, imagining the metal skeleton that was surely inside Eighteen's body. And this wind-up doll would be fucking him. Maybe she would pull back her imitation vulva flaps to reveal a spinning screwdriver, which would promptly drive its sharp tip into his helpless rectum and screw the ever-living shit out of him.

Not to his surprise, Eighteen extended her jaw, like a tractor preparing itself to scoop up a mountain of sand, and from her mouth came a whirring sound not unlike a sink's garbage disposal unit. Vegeta half expected to see a series of sharp whirling blades from within her maw, something grotesque and morbid and akin to the robot shark from James and the Giant Peach (another nightmare-evoking film he'd been made to sit through).

Nope, no metallic blades in her mouth. It was only her teeth that were spinning.

The gyrating abyss was closing in on his cock. Oh, GOD-

Garbled screaming filled the vicinity. The shredding was done when the tip of Eighteen's nose touched Vegeta's abdomen—a mere three inches from the point where she'd taken him in her mouth. She pulled away to reveal the flensed and bloodied tatters of skin of what was formerly his cock.

Vegeta woke from his nightmare, crawled into Bulma's welcoming bosoms, shuddering and weeping, to the confusion of the blue-haired woman. "What's wrong? Had another nightmare about worms in your intestines?"

"No. Not tonight."