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!

The silence left in the wake of Nappa’s annihilation was heavier than any gravity Goku had ever trained under. It was the silence of a moral chasm, a void where camaraderie and mercy should have been. Goku didn’t look at the empty sky. Her eyes were locked on Vegeta, who stood with an air of bored finality, as if she had merely tidied up a minor mess.

There was no time for horror, no time for grief. The real threat was here, and she was utterly unscathed.

Goku took a slow, deliberate step backward, not in fear, but in strategy. She stopped when her back was nearly to Chi-Chi, Krillin, and Gohan. Her voice, when it came, was low, urgent, and left no room for argument.

“Chi-Chi. Krillin. Take Gohan and get out of here. Now.”

Chi-Chi’s eyes widened. “Goku, no! We’re not leaving you!”

“You have to,” Goku said, her gaze never leaving Vegeta, who watched the exchange with an amused, predatory smile. “This fight… it’s different. I can’t hold back, and I can’t worry about you getting caught in the crossfire.” She finally risked a glance back, her eyes softening for a fraction of a second as they met her wife’s. “Please. Get our daughter to safety. That’s what matters now.”

Krillin, her face pale but set with understanding, nodded grimly. She knew the power gap better than anyone. She put a hand on Chi-Chi’s arm. “She’s right, Chi-Chi. We’ll just be distractions. We have to go.”

Gohan, clutching her mother’s leg, looked up at Goku with wide, terrified eyes. “But Mama… you’ll come find us, right?”

Goku’s heart clenched. “I promise.” It was a vow, whispered into the charged air between them.

As her family began a slow, painful retreat, Goku turned back to face the Princess of all Saiyans. The time for talking was over. The air crackled, thick with the promise of a battle that would decide the fate of the world.

The air itself seemed to flinch as they moved. There was no grand charge, no roaring declaration. The fight between Goku and Vegeta began as a series of feints and probes, two masters of their craft reading the subtle language of muscle and ki. They were blurs of orange and blue, their fists and feet meeting in concussive impacts that cracked the air like thunder, yet neither gave an inch.

Vegeta flowed around a kick aimed at her head, her own counter-strike grazing Goku’s shoulder. “Your form is… adequate,” she conceded, her voice a condescending purr. “For a low-class soldier raised on this backwater mudball. Tell me, Kakarot, does it rankle? Knowing you were deemed so worthless, your own people sent you to a shithole planet like this?”

Goku didn’t take the bait. She ducked under a sweeping blow, her own fist slamming into Vegeta’s armored midsection with a solid thump that made the Princess grunt. “They sent me to the best place in the universe,” Goku shot back, her breathing even, her focus absolute. “I had teachers. Friends. A family. They made me strong.”

Vegeta let out a sharp, genuine laugh, the sound harsh and mocking. She disengaged for a moment, floating back, her smirk widening into a cruel grin. “Strong? You cling to the weakness of sentiment. True power is born in the crucible of conquest, of culling the weak! You were born with a power level of 2! A number so insignificant it was a joke! You were an infant, destined for obscurity!”

She lunged forward again, her speed increasing, her attacks becoming a furious storm of blows that Goku was hard-pressed to block. “And you have the audacity to stand before me, a member of the royal bloodline, and claim you have surpassed your betters through training?” The idea was so ludicrous it seemed to fuel her rage. “A low-class worm could train for a thousand years and never equal the might I was born with!”

Goku took a punch to the jaw that snapped her head back, but she rolled with the impact, using the momentum to create space. A trickle of blood dripped from her lip. She wiped it away, her eyes burning with a conviction that seemed to baffle the Saiyan princess.

“Then I guess this low-class worm,” Goku said, her voice steady, “is about to show you something you’ve never seen before.”

The impact sent Goku skidding backward, her boots carving deep furrows in the earth. A thrill, sharp and electric, shot through her. Vegeta was stronger. Faster. The raw, untamed power radiating from the Saiyan princess was a tangible force, a weight that threatened to crush her spirit. But instead of fear, a fierce, wild joy bloomed in Goku’s chest. This was a challenge. A real one.

“Kaio-ken!” she roared.

The familiar crimson aura erupted around her, a mantle of searing power. Her muscles swelled, her speed redoubled. She became a red blur, her fist connecting with Vegeta’s jaw with a crack that echoed like a gunshot. For a glorious moment, she had the advantage, driving the princess back with a furious volley of blows.

Vegeta took the hits, a smirk never leaving her face even as her head snapped to the side. She weathered the storm, then, with a contemptuous swipe of her arm, she batted Goku’s next strike aside. The force of the parry sent a jolt of pain up Goku’s arm.

“Cute,” Vegeta purred, her eyes gleaming. “A crude power amplifier. I’ve seen the technique before. It burns the user from the inside out. A desperate trick for desperate weaklings.”

Goku let the Kaio-ken fade, panting slightly. She was right. It was a drain she couldn’t sustain forever against an opponent of this caliber.

Vegeta didn’t press the attack. Instead, she began to unfasten the clasps of her own blue and white armor. The chest plate hit the dirt with a heavy thud, followed by the shoulder guards. She stood before Goku, stripped to the waist, her torso a map of lean, powerful muscle and faint scars from a lifetime of battle. Her hands went to the fastening of her trousers.

“You fight with a fire I did not expect from a low-class castoff,” Vegeta said, her voice losing its mocking edge and taking on a ceremonial gravity. “You have earned a measure of respect. Enough that I will honor you with the ancient rite of our people.”

Her trousers joined the armor on the ground. She stood completely naked, her body a perfect weapon, proud and unashamed. “The true test of a Saiyan is not just in the clash of ki, but in the joining of it. Body to body. Spirit to spirit. This is how true dominance is established. How bloodlines are tested.”

She settled into a new stance, one that was both combative and openly, brazenly sexual. “Come, Kakarot. Let us see whose will is stronger. Let us see whose blood truly deserves to rule.”

Goku didn’t hesitate. If this was the way to prove her strength, to protect her world, she would meet the challenge head-on. Her hands went to the knot of her orange gi top, pulling it free and letting it fall to the dust. The trousers followed, leaving her standing as naked and unadorned as her rival, her own body a testament to a different kind of training—one of hardship, yes, but also of love and growth.

She moved to the ground, mirroring Vegeta’s position. Their powerful legs intertwined, muscle pressing against muscle, a tense and intimate lattice of strength. Then, they pressed closer, the soft, warm flesh of their pussies meeting. It was an electric contact, a shocking intimacy that was also the frontline of their war.

Vegeta’s eyes burned with a violet light. “Now, Kakarot! Channel your ki! Not as a weapon, but as your essence! Pour it into the joining!”

A corona of energy erupted from them, but it did not blast outward. It swirled around their locked bodies, two opposing storms clashing at the point where they were most intimately connected. Vegeta’s aura was a deep, royal magenta, a color of arrogance and inherited might. Goku’s was the brilliant, steadfast azure of her spirit and her Earthly training.

The scissoring began, not with the frantic rhythm of passion, but with the slow, grinding pressure of a tectonic struggle. Each roll of their hips, each press and counter-press, was a test of will as much as body. The air crackled where their auras met, tiny arcs of pink and blue lightning snapping between their stomachs and thighs.

Vegeta pushed, her magenta ki flaring, trying to overwhelm Goku’s blue with sheer, domineering force. “This is the power of royalty! Submit!”

Goku gritted her teeth, her own hips meeting the pressure with unwavering resistance. Her blue aura held firm, a deep, ocean-like calm against the stormy violet. “This is the power of my home! I won’t let you have it!”

They were locked in a perfect, straining stalemate. Sweat gleamed on their skin, their breaths came in synchronized, ragged pants. The very ground beneath them began to heat up from the concentrated energy of their clash, a primal, elemental struggle for dominance being fought in the most intimate arena imaginable.

The slow, grinding rhythm of their scissoring intensified, becoming a fierce, muscular battle for supremacy. Vegeta’s lips peeled back from her teeth in a triumphant sneer as she felt the tide turning. Her magenta aura, thick with the arrogance of her royal blood, began to press inward, constricting the brilliant blue of Goku’s ki. The point of contact between their bodies grew hotter, the soft, wet friction a lewd counterpoint to the storm of power.

“You see?” Vegeta grunted, driving her hips forward with a powerful surge, forcing Goku’s thighs to spread a fraction wider. “Your borrowed power wanes! This is the difference between a queen and a peasant!”

Goku’s body trembled with the strain, her blue aura flickering under the relentless violet pressure. But surrender was not in her vocabulary. A low growl rumbled in her chest.

“Kaio… KEN!”

The familiar crimson energy didn’t just flare; it ignited around her blue aura, a supercharged sheath of raw power. The sudden, explosive surge met Vegeta’s advance not with defense, but with a violent counter-offensive. Goku’s hips pistoned forward, her own wetness mingling with Vegeta’s as she reclaimed the ground she’d lost, the red-and-blue energy forcing the magenta back.

Vegeta’s eyes widened in shock, then narrowed in fury. “A cheap trick! You burn your own life force for a moment’s respite! It changes nothing!”

“Then how about this?” Goku gritted out, her muscles screaming. “KAIO-KEN… TIMES TWO!”

The red aura around her doubled in intensity, blazing with the heat of a forge. It was no longer a sheath, but a bonfire. The combined force of her blue ki and the doubled Kaio-ken became an unstoppable tide. She drove forward, her pubic bone grinding against Vegeta’s with enough force to make the Saiyan princess gasp. The magenta aura was violently shoved back, compressed against Vegeta’s own skin, the lewd, wet sounds of their frantic scissoring now accompanied by the sizzle of overpowered energy.

Vegeta’s composure shattered. A snarl of pure, unadulterated rage was torn from her lips. She was being matched. Pushed back. By a low-class warrior using a technique that was literally killing her from the inside. The intimate struggle had become a microcosm of their entire conflict, and for the first time, the Princess of all Saiyans was not winning.

—–

In Kame house the crystal ball flickered violently, the image of Goku and Vegeta’s intense struggle distorting into static and jagged lines of color.

“Dammit, Baba! Can’t you get a better picture?” Bulma snapped, leaning forward and delivering a sharp thwack to the side of the orb with the heel of her hand.

The image of the two naked Saiyans, locked in their fierce, grinding scissor, their kis flaring in a violent, intimate stalemate.

“Hey! Easy on the merchandise!” Baba squawked, her eyes bulging in indignation. “This isn’t some cheap parlor trick! It’s the genuine article!”

Master Roshi pushed her sunglasses up her nose, peering at the distorted image. “It’s not the ball! It’s them! The energy they’re throwing around is frying the signal! It’s like trying to watch a broadcast next to a nuclear reactor! The concentration of ki is so immense it’s disrupting the scrying magic itself.”

“They’re overloading it,” Oolong muttered, staring at the chaotic lightshow within the ball. In the middle of it, two fierce warriors thrust against each other.

—–

The world dissolved into a searing, crimson hell. Goku’s body screamed in protest, every muscle fiber feeling as if it were being dipped in molten lead and stretched on a rack. The Kaio-ken times two was a barely contained inferno, but it was only holding the line against Vegeta’s royal, violet fury. Their pussies were slick with sweat and exertion, grinding together in a frantic, wet rhythm that was equal parts pleasure and agony. Vegeta’s sneer was back, a mask of strained triumph as she felt Goku’s blue ki beginning to waver once more under the relentless magenta pressure.

“You see?!” Vegeta grunted, her hips driving forward with brutal force, the slap of their flesh echoing. “Your body betrays you! You are not built for this kind of power!”

Queen Kai’s warning was a ghost in Goku’s ear. Never go past times two. It will tear you apart. But to stop now was to lose everything. Chi-Chi. Gohan. Earth. The faces of her friends, broken and lifeless in the dirt, flashed behind her eyes.

“No,” Goku breathed, the word a puff of steam in the superheated air. “Not… yet…”

She reached deeper, into a well of power she had never dared to touch. It felt like grabbing a live wire with her bare soul.

“KAIO-KEN… TIMES THREE!”

The effect was cataclysmic. The red aura didn’t just intensify; it detonated. It erupted from her body in a blinding, scarlet nova, instantly vaporizing the magenta energy that had been suffocating her. The force of it was a physical shockwave that slammed into Vegeta, not with ki, but with pure, concussive will.

For the first time, true, unadulterated panic flashed in Vegeta’s eyes.

Goku’s body was a conduit of pure, self-destructive power. Her blue ki was now a thin, brilliant core within a raging scarlet sun. She drove forward, her movements no longer just powerful, but absolute. Her hips pistoned, the scissoring motion becoming a devastating, unstoppable machine. The wet, slapping sounds were drowned out by the roar of her own ki. She was overwhelming Vegeta completely, grinding against her with a force that was less about sex and more about annihilation. The Saiyan princess’s body was forced back, her own rhythm broken, her royal composure shattered into a million pieces as she was utterly and violently dominated by the low-class warrior’s impossible, soul-shattering power.

Vegeta’s composure didn’t just crack; it shattered into a thousand glittering pieces. The overwhelming, scarlet force of the Kaio-ken times three didn’t just beat back her ki; it short-circuited her very will to fight. The arrogant sneer melted from her lips, replaced by a slack-jawed expression of pure, unadulterated sensation. A low, guttural moan was torn from her throat, a sound she would have murdered anyone else for hearing.

Her hips, which had been driving forward with imperial force, lost their rhythm, becoming a frantic, involuntary bucking against Goku’s relentless grinding. The struggle for dominance was over, replaced by a desperate, losing battle against a pleasure so intense it bordered on pain. Her back arched, her head thrown back, a string of lewd, slutty cries escaping her—”Nngh! Ah! Kakarot!?”—as her body betrayed a lifetime of royal discipline.

Her climax hit her like a physical blow, a violent, convulsing wave that wracked her powerful frame. Her inner muscles clenched around nothing, her pussy pulsing against Goku’s as a flood of her release slicked between their tangled legs. With a final, shuddering gasp, her body went limp, collapsing into the dirt like a marionette with its strings cut.

Goku held on for a second longer, the Kaio-ken’s scarlet aura flickering and dying as her own body gave out. The price for that impossible power was immediate and total. She collapsed beside her rival, their legs still intimately intertwined, their sweat-slicked bodies glistening under the harsh sun. The only sounds were their ragged, synchronizing gasps for air, the air thick with the musky scent of their shared exertion and release.

For a long moment, there was only the heaving of their chests. Then, Vegeta turned her head, her eyes, hazy with spent pleasure and exhaustion, found Goku’s.

“You…” she panted, the word a grudging admission. “You have some fight in you after all, Kakarot.”

It wasn’t praise. It was a recalibration. An acknowledgment that the prey was far more dangerous than the hunter had ever imagined. They lay there, two warriors brought to the brink, their bodies joined in the aftermath of a conflict that had transcended the physical. The battle was far from over, but the first, shocking round had ended in a draw of mutual, devastating collapse.

Humiliation burned hotter than any ki blast within Vegeta’s chest. The memory of her own body betraying her, of those lewd, involuntary cries being torn from her throat, was a poison. With a guttural roar of pure frustration, she shoved herself away from Goku, her naked form shooting into the sky in a blur of violet energy. She didn’t flee. She sought an advantage, a trump card she was certain this backwater planet would possess.

Her her eyes scanned the heavens, searching for the familiar, comforting silver disc of a full moon. The Great Ape. The Oozaru. That was the true power of their race, the form that could multiply a Saiyan’s power tenfold. It was the ultimate equalizer, the final, brutal answer to any defiance.

But the sky was empty. Where the moon should have been, there was only a scattering of stars and the void. She scanned again, her rage mounting. Nothing. It was gone. Utterly destroyed.

“WHAT?!” The scream was ripped from her, a raw sound of bewildered fury. What kind of primitive, idiotic planet destroyed its own moon?!

Defeated and seething, she plummeted back to the battlefield, landing with a jarring impact that cracked the earth. Her pride was in tatters, her body still thrumming with the aftershocks of her humiliating climax. She found Goku already on her feet, having used the brief respite to pull her orange gi back on, her face pale but her resolve seemingly unbroken.

Vegeta’s nakedness was no longer a ceremonial challenge; it was a stark contrast between her and her opponent. She wasn’t going to waste any time getting dressed again, however. Soon enough, it wouldn’t even matter.

“You fight well for a low-class worm,” Vegeta spat, her voice like grinding glass. Her dark eyes, now cold and calculating once more, locked onto Goku. “But your luck ends now. I have a new plan for you, Kakarot. One that will ensure you never defy me again.”

Goku’s brow furrowed, but she didn’t flinch at the threat.

“You fight with a borrowed strength, Kakarot,” Vegeta sneered, a sphere of crackling, artificial energy blooming to life in her palm. “But you lack the true heritage of our race. The ultimate power. The Great Ape, the Oozaru!”

She held the glowing orb aloft, its light casting monstrous shadows across her triumphant face. “Look at you! Pathetic! Stunted! You don’t even have a tail! A Saiyan without a tail is a humiliation worse than death! A cosmic joke! Did you let these pathetic Earthlings maim you like that?”

Goku stared, a cold dread seeping into her bones. A tail. The word triggered something deep, something buried.

“The moon isn’t the only source,” Vegeta crowed, her voice rising with manic glee. “Its light merely provides the Blutz Waves! And those… those can be made!”

She hurled the orb into the sky. It didn’t fly away; it hung there, a false, miniature moon, pulsing with a malevolent, silver light.

As the waves of artificial moonlight washed over Vegeta, her body began to change. A horrific tearing sound filled the air as her form swelled, muscles bulging, bones cracking and elongating. A thick, brown fur sprouted from her skin, and her monstrous tail whipped behind her.

And in Goku’s mind, the walls came crashing down.

A full moon, a kind old woman’s terrified face, a scream cut short, and then… nothing. Waking up surrounded by destruction, her grandmother gone. She’d warned an innocent young girl about a monster that comes out under the full moon…

A full moon over Pilaf’s castle, she and her friends trapped, and then… blackness. Waking up in the ruins the next day.

A full moon during the World Martial Arts Tournament, the roar of a crowd, and then… emptiness. Waking up to find the entire stadium arena a smoldering crater.

The blackouts. The chaos. The destruction she could never explain. It wasn’t some monster. It wasn’t a curse.

It was her.

She had done it. She had been the monster all along.

Her horror was a physical blow, stealing the air from her lungs as she watched Vegeta’s transformation complete. A fifty-foot-tall, roaring Oozaru now loomed over the badlands, its glaring, crimson eyes fixing on her tiny form. Vegeta’s voice, distorted and gargantuan, echoed from the beast’s maw, shaking the very foundations of the earth.

“BEHOLD, KAKAROT! THE TRUE MIGHT OF A SAIYAN ELITE! YOUR DEFIANCE ENDS NOW! VICTORY IS MINE!”