“Hmm… it was far from the best footwash I have had. Kale does a much better job than you. But I will cut you some slack since this is your first time.”
Caulifla gets up from Vegeta’s tummy, putting her shoes back on. Vegeta has also regained some control, or so he thinks. He can at least stand up on his own. He considers attacking her again. But somehow, he can't find the will to do so. She is not even facing him, exposing her back to her ‘opponent.’ She has her hands on her hips, her lips curled into a smirk as she looks over her shoulder.
“Prepare for your next fight, Vegeta. I am sure you are excited.”
“Hell yeah! And then I am going to kick your ass after I break out of this bewitching spell!”
“Kick? Tch. Foolish slave. You can't even speak properly. I am sure you meant to say ‘kiss.’ But… do you think you have earned the privilege of worshipping my perfect, superior ass?”
“What? Bitch! Have you lost your mind?!” Vegeta growls. Her smug grin infuriates him. He is trembling in anger, fists clenched. But he is rooted to the spot. Much to his shame, in the back of his mind, he is feeling the urge to drop to his knees and kiss her ass. But, of course, he will never confess that. It must be a part of the spell. No way in hell can he get such urges. He does not even do that for Bulma. Well… at least, not often.
It seems Caulifla is onto his thoughts, though. The slight bulge in his suit is all the hint she needs. She sighs, looking away from Vegeta again.
“Fine. Fine. It is no secret that Saiyan men are pussywhipped. Are you wondering if my asshole smells better than your wife’s?” She snickers, reaching behind and grabbing her cheeks.
The long, sirwal pants entirely conceal her legs and ass. But Vegeta can still spot the damp line between her cheeks as she spreads them apart ever so slightly. She must be… sweaty. She must smell potent. Heck! Why is he thinking about that?! His face distorts into a disgusted expression as he tries to fight off the degenerate thoughts. This can't be him. He may be many horrible things, but he is no cheater. His eyes water up, his heart sinking as he realizes he has collapsed down to his knees behind the arrogant tomboy. In desperation, a soft, uncharacteristic whimper escapes the proud Saiyan. “Please… stop.”
“Stop what? I am not doing anything. But because you did an acceptable job washing my feet, I give you permission to take one deep breath between my asscheeks while I am still wearing my pants. Remember. Only. One. Breath.”
She is not commanding him to sniff or kiss. But Vegeta is already under her spell. His mind has been weakened by the scent and taste of her feet. Now, if he takes a sniff, he will only sink further into submission. Vegeta is well aware of this. But he can't stop himself from inching closer to her damp crevice. She is not even wearing any sexy clothes. Why is this arousing him so much? His cock is rock hard, and no matter how hard he tries to convince himself otherwise, his mind is set on taking a sniff of her asshole.
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