Note: This story was written with assistance by an AI. I provided prompts and edited the results to make sense, creating something resembling a full story.

I thought it would be fun to explore the canon of the Dragon Ball F Universe. The story will follow the basic flow of Dragon Ball Z, but obviously there will be many differences. Some changes are made by the AI, some by me, but I think it helps to give this world its own feel besides the basic premise of it being a female-only world. I hope some of you will enjoy these stories, I’ll release them when I can!

 

Every muscle fiber screamed in protest as Goku pushed herself up, her arms trembling violently under a weight she had never imagined possible. It felt like her own bones were trying to collapse inward. She managed to get to her hands and knees, sweat dripping from her brow and splattering onto the strange, white ground. With a final, grunting heave, she hauled herself out of the crater her body had made, collapsing in a heap on the edge.

She lay there, panting, her vision swimming. The very air felt thick and heavy, a tangible pressure trying to crush her into the pavement. Through the blur, she saw movement. A small, brown monkey was ambling across the yard, its tail swishing casually. It paused, picked a small, purple fruit from a nearby bush, and nibbled on it, completely unbothered by the gravity that was threatening to turn Goku into a pancake.

Goku’s eyes widened. A creature that moved with such ease in this impossible place… it had to be the master!

“H-hey!” Goku croaked, her voice strained. “Are you… are you Queen Kai?”

The monkey stopped chewing and looked at her, its head tilting with simple, animal curiosity.

Goku, using every ounce of her willpower, forced herself to her feet. Her legs shook so badly she thought they might buckle. She tried to take a step, but her foot felt like it was encased in solid lead. She stumbled, barely catching herself. Desperate for a solution, she looked back at the monkey, who had now begun to scratch its side with a relaxed hind leg.

Maybe… if I move like she does… Goku thought, her mind grasping at straws.

She tried to mimic the monkey’s hunched, fluid posture, letting her own arms dangle. She took another step, her body low to the ground. It was still agonizingly difficult, every movement a monumental effort, but it was slightly more stable than her upright stumble.

A snort of laughter, sharp and utterly unimpressed, cut through the heavy air. “What in the name of the great galaxies are you doing? Trying to communicate with the local wildlife? I knew you Saiyans were primitive, but this is just sad.”

Goku wobbled, nearly losing her balance as she turned toward the voice. Standing in the doorway of the small house was a woman who looked like nothing Goku had ever seen. She was short and round, with a voluptuous, almost spherical figure. Her skin was a vibrant cobalt blue, and two delicate antennae twitched on her forehead. A pair of perfectly round, dark sunglasses obscured her eyes, and she leaned on a simple wooden staff, tapping it impatiently.

The monkey, hearing the woman’s voice, chittered happily and scampered over, climbing up her leg to perch on her shoulder.

“That’s Bubbles,” the woman said, gesturing to the monkey with her staff. “My pet. And you, making a fool of yourself in front of her, are the famous Son Goku, I presume? The one who six months to run a million-mile path and then thought simian cosplay was the key to mastering my planet’s gravity?”

A tiny figure, no bigger than Goku’s thumb, zipped out from behind the woman’s leg. It was a cricket, but standing upright, wearing a tiny martial arts gi and a fierce scowl. “Disgraceful form! No balance! No discipline!” she squeaked in a voice like grinding pebbles. “This is the hope of the North Quadrant, Lady Kai? A clumsy oaf who imitates monkeys?”

“Easy, Gregorine,” the blue woman—Queen Kai—said, though her voice was laced with amusement. “Let’s not crush her spirit completely before we’ve even started.” She turned her gaze back to Goku. “I am Queen Kai, Ruler of the North Galaxy. And you are standing on my planet, which has ten times the gravity of Earth. It’s a little training ground I use for special cases. Or, it would be, if I were inclined to train you.”

Goku, still fighting to stand upright under the crushing weight, managed a strained bow. “It’s… an honor… to meet you! Kami… sent me. I need you… to train me! Please! There are… really strong bad guys… coming to my planet!”

Queen Kai sighed, a sound of profound weariness. “I know. I felt the disturbance when that Raditz creature arrived. A messy business. But my answer is no.” She turned as if to go back inside. “I don’t train just anyone who stumbles onto my doorstep, especially not someone who can’t even stand up straight. You’re weak, you’re undisciplined, and you’re wasting my time. Bubbles, Gregorine, let’s go.”

Goku’s heart plummeted. She’d come all this way, endured Hell, outrun a giant snake, and survived a ten-G crash landing, only to be turned away at the door. Desperation clawed at her. “Please! I’ll do anything! I’ll clean your house! I’ll… I’ll eat your pussy! I’ll eat your ass! Just teach me! I have to get stronger!”

Queen Kai paused, one blue hand on her doorframe. She tilted her head, her antennae twitching. “Anything, you say?” A slow, mischievous smile spread across her face. “Fine. I’ll give you one chance. Make me laugh.”

Goku blinked. “Huh?”

“A joke,” Queen Kai clarified, her tone dripping with condescension. “A dirty one. Make me, the Ruler of the North Galaxy, genuinely laugh with a filthy, off-color joke. Do that, and I’ll consider training you. Fail, and you can spend the next decade trying to crawl back to Snake Way.”

Goku’s mind raced. Dirty jokes? She wracked her brain. Most of her humor revolved around food or fighting. She took a deep, struggling breath.

“Okay… uh… what is the… the difference between a regular bean and a futa bean?” she began, her voice strained from the gravity.

Queen Kai stared, impassive. Bubbles chittered.

“One makes you less hungry… the other makes you hungry for something else?” Goku finished weakly.

Silence. Gregorine facepalmed with two of her tiny arms.

“Pathetic,” the cricket squeaked.

Goku’s face was a mask of pure concentration, sweat beading on her forehead from both the strain and the mental effort. She was running out of ideas. Then, a memory surfaced—a hot day at Kame House, Master Roshi cackling as she told a story to a blushing Krillin. The details were hazy, but the punchline… the punchline was unforgettable.

“Okay! Okay, I got one!” Goku blurted out, her voice tight. “So, this woman goes to the doctor, right? And she says, ‘Doc, you gotta help me. Every time my husband and I have sex, I let out this huge, loud fart afterwards! It’s so embarrassing!’”

Queen Kai’s antennae stopped twitching. She was listening.

Goku pushed on, her words tumbling out in a rush. “The doctor thinks about it and says, ‘Well, that’s perfectly normal. It’s just trapped air being released. Nothing to worry about.’ But the woman says, ‘No, Doc, you don’t understand. It’s not me. It’s my husband. He’s a ventriloquist!’”

For a moment, there was only the heavy silence of the high-gravity world. Then, a snort escaped Queen Kai’s lips. It was followed by a choked sputter. Then, her round blue body began to shake, and a rich, booming, utterly undignified laugh erupted from her, echoing across the tiny planet. She doubled over, slapping her knee with a free hand, her dark sunglasses threatening to slide off her face.

“A VENTRILOQUIST!” she roared, tears of mirth streaming from behind her shades. “Oh, by the stars! The visual! The sheer, unadulterated absurdity!”

Bubbles looked confused. Gregorine looked mortified. But Queen Kai laughed until she was wheezing, the sound a stark contrast to her earlier regal dismissal.

Wiping a tear away, she finally caught her breath, her antennae quivering with residual amusement. She looked at Goku, who was still standing there, trembling but hopeful.

“Alright, you primitive, ridiculous Saiyan,” Queen Kai said, her voice still chuckling. “You’ve got spirit, and you’ve got… a surprisingly filthy mind. A deal’s a deal.” She tapped her staff on the ground. “Welcome to your new hell, Goku. Your training begins now.”

—–

The harsh sun of the badlands beat down on them as they took a rare break from sparring. Gohan nibbled on a piece of dried meat, her large, dark eyes fixed on Piccolo with an unnerving intensity. The previous conversation about eggs and vapor had only whetted her appetite for knowledge.

“Ms. Piccolo?” she began, her voice small but persistent.

Piccolo let out a low sigh, her crimson eyes opening. “What is it now, brat?”

“You said you don’t eat or… you know, go to the bathroom like I do. So…” Gohan’s brow furrowed in deep thought. “Do you even have the parts? You know. A vagina? An butthole?”

Piccolo stiffened. Of all the lines of questioning, this was the most invasive. She could feel a strange, warm flush under her green skin. “That is none of your concern. Your focus should be on your ki control, not my… anatomy.”

“But I am focused!” Gohan insisted, scooting closer on the rock. “It’s part of knowing my teacher! If you don’t have them, how do you know what it feels like when you get hit there? That’s important for fighting, right?”

The logic was so absurdly Gohan that Piccolo was momentarily stunned into silence. The child was weaponizing her own curiosity for martial arts.

“Fine,” Piccolo grunted, the word torn from her as if it caused physical pain. She looked away, staring at a distant mesa. “Yes. I have them. Both.”

Gohan’s eyes went wide. “You do? But why? If you don’t need them for… for the stuff I need them for?”

“They are… vestigial. For pleasure,” Piccolo forced out, her voice tighter than a drawn bowstring. The admission felt like a profound violation of her own demonic dignity. “A remnant of a biological design that is no longer necessary for my species’ primary functions.”

Gohan’s face was a perfect picture of confusion. “Pleasure? What kind of pleasure?”

“That is a lesson for another day,” Piccolo said firmly, finally turning her fierce gaze back to the girl, cutting off any further inquiry. “A lesson for when you are much, much older and your mind is on things other than survival and dinosaur meat. Now, stand up. Your stance is still sloppy. We’re going to drill the basic blocks until your arms feel like they’re going to fall off.”

She stood, using the command to end the humiliating conversation, secretly vowing to herself that she would never, ever be caught in such a vulnerable line of questioning again. Some mysteries, she decided, were better left unsolved.

—–

Weeks passed. The air on King Kai’s planet no longer felt like syrup trying to crush her. Goku moved across the white-paved yard with a fluid, powerful grace that would have been impossible months ago. Her muscles, forged in the ten-fold gravity, now hummed with a dense, potent energy. She stood before King Kai, not trembling, but solid and steady, having just successfully completed the tasks set before her.

“Not bad,” King Kai grunted, her antennae twitching in what might have been approval. “You’ve adapted. This gravity you’ve grown accustomed to? It’s the same as the native gravity of the Saiyan homeworld, Planet Vegeta.”

Goku’s head tilted, her curiosity instantly piqued. “Planet Vegeta? That’s where Raditz came from? Where I came from? What’s it like?”

“It was a harsh, brutal world,” King Kai said, her tone losing its usual mocking edge and becoming somber. “A fitting cradle for a warrior race. It’s gone now. Destroyed many years ago.”

“Destroyed? How?” Goku asked, her eyes wide. The concept of an entire planet being wiped out was staggering.

King Kai waved a dismissive blue hand, her dark sunglasses hiding any emotion in her eyes. “The ‘how’ and ‘why’ aren’t important for your training. What is important is that you understand the environment that shaped your biology. Your body remembers this weight, Goku. It’s in your blood. And if you’re to face Saiyans who were born and raised in it, you must master every aspect of combat within it.”

She tapped her staff on the ground for emphasis. “And I do mean every aspect. Power and speed are meaningless if you can’t leverage them in every conceivable confrontation. You will learn to fight here. And you will learn to fuck here. Dominance, submission, the raw exchange of power—it’s all part of the same battle. Your new opponents will use it as a weapon. So will you. Your training in both disciplines begins in earnest now.”

Queen Kai produced two of the pale, unassuming beans from a small pouch, a cruel smirk playing on her blue lips. “A little incentive for my assistants,” she purred, tossing one to Bubbles and the other to Gregorine. The monkey caught it with a curious chitter, while the cricket snatched hers from the air with a tiny, decisive grab.

The transformations were swift and bizarre. Bubbles, the monkey, let out a surprised screech as a thick, fur-covered simian cock sprang forth from her groin, already erect and twitching with bestial energy. Gregorine, meanwhile, buzzed into the air, her minuscule body now sporting a disproportionately large, chitinous cock that gleamed like polished obsidian, a needle-sharp weapon of insectoid intent.

“Let’s see how you handle a different kind of assault, Saiyan,” Queen Kai taunted, leaning on her staff. “Survival of the fittest, remember?”

Bubbles moved first, a brown blur of muscle and fur. She slammed into Goku’s back, her powerful arms wrapping around her waist, her new cock pressing insistently against the cleft of Goku’s ass. At the same moment, Gregorine zipped in front of Goku, her tiny hands grabbing fistfuls of Goku’s gi, her formidable insectoid length aimed directly at her mouth.

Goku grunted, her feet digging into the white pavement as she tried to resist. But the ten-fold gravity, combined with Bubbles’s simian strength, was too much. She was forced to her knees. Gregorine didn’t hesitate. She thrust forward, the chitinous tip of her cock pushing past Goku’s lips, stretching her mouth open with a shocking, alien intrusion.

Bubbles, behind her, positioned herself and drove her own thick, bestial cock into Goku’s ass in one brutal, stretching motion. Goku cried out, the sound muffled around the cricket’s shaft now fucking her throat. She was pinned between them, a living spitroast, her body used and filled by the two transformed creatures. The high gravity made every movement, every thrust, feel ten times more intense, a crushing, violating weight.

Queen Kai watched, her laughter echoing across the tiny planet. “That’s it! Feel it, Goku! This is the reality of power! It takes many forms! Now… endure!”

The ten-fold gravity, which had once been her greatest enemy, now became a brutal amplifier of every sensation. Bubbles, with a monkey’s mischievous agility, didn’t just hold her in place; she began to move.

Her thrusts were deep, primal, and perfectly synchronized with Gregorine’s. Bubbles drove her thick, fur-covered length deep into Goku’s ass, a relentless, deep-stretching invasion that seemed to reach her very core. At the same time, Gregorine’s chitinous cock pistoned into Goku’s throat, the unyielding pressure making her gag reflex scream, but the cricket’s insectoid stamina was terrifying. She didn’t just thrust; she ground her hips in tight, circular motions, the friction a white-hot brand. Goku’s body was a taught wire of agonizing pleasure, stretched to its absolute limit.

“Look at that, Gregorine!” Queen Kai’s voice cut through the symphony of grunts and wet slaps.

“Having trouble swallowing, Goku?” she called out, her voice dripping with sadistic glee. “A real mouthful, isn’t it? A Saiyan’s appetite isn’t just for food, is it?” she taunted, her voice a wicked purr. “I guess you could say she’s… buggered!”

She laughed, a harsh, grating sound. “And Bubbles! Look at her go! She really knows how to go… bananas!”

Goku was a living sheath, a conduit for their raw, untamed energy. She was being fucked with a force and depth she had never known.

“Looks like Bubbles is really… monkeying around in there!”

Every word was a calculated humiliation, a layer of psychological domination atop the physical. “That’s it… take it all…” Her voice was thick with her own pleasure. “She’s taking it… crickets and all!”

Goku could only moan, a broken, continuous sound as the two creatures used her with a single-minded purpose. “You’re taking it like a real champ, Goku! A regular… ape tite for punishment!”

The assault was absolute. There was no escape, only the crushing weight and the two points of overwhelming, violating pleasure. Her mind began to blank, the overload too much.

“Such a… tight fit! You must have been practicing, Goku! Practicing taking it… up the ass!”

The final, devastating climax was torn from her, a raw scream that was half-sob, half-triumphant roar from Bubbles, followed by the cricket’s high-pitched, buzzing keen of release. They poured their climaxes into her simultaneously, a hot, dual flood that filled her from both ends, a final, claiming violation that left her collapsed, a trembling, glistening heap on the white pavement, utterly spent and conquered on every level.

Exhausted beyond anything she had ever known, Goku collapsed forward, her face pressing into the cool, white pavement of King Kai’s planet. The crushing ten-fold gravity, once a brutal enemy, now felt like a familiar, heavy blanket. Bubbles and Gregorine, their temporary transformations receding, stepped back from her trembling form. She rolled onto her back, her chest heaving, her body slick with sweat and the evidence of their shared release. Her muscles felt like water, her mind a blissful, empty slate.

Queen Kai didn’t give her a moment to recover. She moved with a regal, unhurried air, stepping over Goku’s prone body.

“Not so tough now, are we?” Queen Kai mused, not moving from her position. “You’re not done yet, Saiyan. A warrior’s training is never done.” She lowered herself, straddling Goku’s chest, and then lowered her hips, pressing her blue, neatly-folded pussy directly against Goku’s mouth. “Now… clean up your mess. Lick it all up. Every last drop.”

The moment Queen Kai’s blue pussy made contact with her lips, Goku’s instincts took over. There was no hesitation, no thought of refusal. It was a challenge, and her body, even in its exhausted state, responded. Her tongue, thick and warm, slid out, tracing the outer folds of the Ruler of the North Galaxy’s sex. The taste was unique—a faint, ozone-like tang, clean and alien, mixed with the lingering, musky sweetness of her own arousal.

Queen Kai let out a soft, surprised gasp, her hips giving a slight, involuntary twitch. “Well, well… you’re not completely useless with your mouth, are you?” she purred, her voice losing some of its mocking edge and gaining a husky quality. “A real… hunger in you.”

Goku’s efforts became more focused. She pressed her face deeper, her nose buried in the sparse, soft hair at the base of Kai’s mound. Her tongue delved inward, seeking the source of that clean, alien flavor. She found Kai’s clit, a small, hard bead of blue flesh, and focused her attention there, licking and sucking with a relentless, single-minded intensity that was pure Goku.

“Oh, you… you eager little thing,” Kai moaned, her regal composure beginning to crack. Her hands came down, not to push Goku away, but to tangle in her wild, spiky black hair, holding her in place. “That’s it… right there… don’t you dare… come up for air…”

Goku didn’t. She feasted. She licked and probed, her tongue fucking into Kai’s entrance with deep, thrusting motions, drinking down the nectar that began to flow more freely. The high gravity seemed to amplify every sensation for Kai as well, each stroke of Goku’s tongue feeling ten times more potent, more earth-shattering.

“By the stars… you’re going to make me… see stars!” Kai cried out, her body tensing, her back arching. Her climax was a silent, shuddering wave that made her thighs clamp around Goku’s head. She ground herself against the Saiyan’s face, riding out the pleasure until, with a final, gasping sigh, she collapsed forward, her weight pressing down on Goku.

For a long moment, the only sound was their ragged breathing. Then, Queen Kai pushed herself up, a look of stunned, sated respect on her blue features. She looked down at Goku, whose face was glistening and flushed.

“Okay,” Queen Kai breathed, a genuine, non-mocking smile finally touching her lips. “Okay. You’ve passed the… introductory phase. Now, the real work begins.”

—–

The air on the Lookout crackled with a new, raw energy. It wasn’t just the hum of ki or the slap of flesh in combat; it was the sound of a hierarchy being rewritten. Chi-Chi stood panting, one foot planted firmly on the small of Yamcha’s back, pinning the former bandit to the pristine white tiles. Yamcha’s gi was torn, a testament to the ferocity of their spar, and a fresh bruise was already blooming on her cheekbone.

There were no words. Chi-Chi’s hand went to the pouch at her waist, and the familiar, pale bean was swallowed in a single, decisive gulp. The surge of power was immediate, a hot, coiling heat that blossomed into a formidable, thick length between her powerful thighs. A collective, sharp intake of breath came from the small crowd of Krillin, Tien, Chiaotzu, and Yajirobe who had gathered to watch.

Chi-Chi’s eyes, once shadowed by grief, now burned with a fierce, possessive fire. She hauled Yamcha up by her long hair, forcing her onto her hands and knees. She thought about Yamcha’s turbulent relationship with Bulma, how often the blue-haired scientist had complained to her about Yamcha’s womanizing.

“This is for every time you made my friend cry,” Chi-Chi growled, her voice low and thick with intent. She positioned herself behind Yamcha, and with no further ceremony, she drove her cock home in one brutal, sheathing thrust.

Yamcha cried out, a sharp gasp of shock and sensation, her fingers scrambling for purchase on the smooth floor.

The onlookers cheered, a rowdy, supportive roar. Krillin whooped, Tien gave a sharp, approving nod, and even Yajirobe let out a grunt of respect.

Chi-Chi set a punishing, dominant rhythm from the start. Each powerful thrust of her hips slammed into Yamcha, the wet, slapping sound echoing across the Lookout. One of her hands tangled in Yamcha’s hair, yanking her head back, arching her spine into a deeper, more vulnerable curve.

“And this,” Chi-Chi grunted, her voice strained with exertion, “is for having the gall to think you were ever good enough for her!” Her other hand came down in a sharp, stinging spank on Yamcha’s ass, the crack of the impact punctuating her words.

She was not just fucking her; she was conquering her. Every deep, claiming stroke was a repudiation of her own past weakness, a celebration of the formidable strength she had carved from her trauma. She fucked with the same relentless, powerful intensity she now brought to her martial arts, her body a perfectly tuned instrument of dominance. Yamcha’s initial cries of protest melted into ragged, surrendering moans, her body yielding completely to the overwhelming force of the woman she had once underestimated.

The fruits of Chi-Chi’s labor were indeed paying off. She was no longer the victim, the bystander, the widow. On the sacred tiles of the Lookout, with her comrades cheering her on, Chi-Chi was a queen, and this was her throne.