Two hours later, the Son house was spotless (Chi-Chi's terrifying cleaning ki had seen to that), windows open, incense burning, every trace of the last seventy-two hours of debauchery erased.
Goku's cheerful "We're hoooome!" echoed from the front yard just as the last of them stepped out the back door.
Chi-Chi waved brightly from the porch, cheeks still flushed.
Videl jogged off toward Satan City to relieve Piccolo of Pan-sitting duty (and probably to sit very, very carefully for the next week).
Bulma air-kissed everyone goodbye, already barking orders into her phone about the emergency party she was throwing at Capsule Corp that night.
Krillin and 18 flew home hand-in-hand, both looking far too pleased with themselves.
By 7 p.m. the Capsule Corp lawn had been transformed: floating lanterns, long tables groaning under mountains of food, an open bar the length of a city block, and an honest-to-Kami ice sculpture of Beerus licking a planet-sized meat drumstick.
Beerus himself was already three plates deep, purring like a cat.
Whis floated serenely beside him, sampling desserts.
Vados stood nearby, chatting with Champa (who kept trying to steal Beerus's food and getting zapped for it).
Universe 6's delegation had shown up in force: Hit leaning silently against a pillar, Cabba trying to keep Caulifla and Kale from starting fights with Vegeta, Caulifla and Kale themselves prowling the party like wolves who'd smelled blood in the water.
Krillin and 18 arrived fashionably late, Krillin in a simple black button-down and slacks, 18 in a backless red dress that made half the guests choke on their drinks.
They made their rounds (said hello to Goku, teased Gohan about how tired Videl had looked, dodged Vegeta's suspicious glare), then grabbed drinks and drifted toward the Saiyan girls from Universe 6.
Caulifla spotted them first, elbowing Kale.
"Hey, look. It's the short bald guy and the ice-queen android."
Kale tilted her head, shy but curious. "They're… married, right?"
18 smirked, sliding an arm around Krillin's waist. "For years. Best decision I ever made."
Caulifla snorted, crossing her arms. "Yeah? Heard he's strong for an Earthling, but he looks like a stiff breeze would fold him."
Krillin just sipped his beer, amused.
18's smile turned razor-sharp.
"Strength isn't always about punching planets, girls. Sometimes it's about stamina. Endurance. Knowing exactly how to break a woman until she can't remember her own name."
Caulifla barked a laugh. "Oh please. You're telling me this guy (she jerked a thumb at Krillin) is some kind of sex god? I'd snap him in half."
Kale flushed dark red but didn't look away.
18 leaned in, voice low and conversational, like she was discussing the weather.
"Two days ago he fucked Chi-Chi, Videl, Bulma, Bulma's mother, and me (sometimes two or three at a time) for seventy-two hours straight. Fifteen inches. Doesn't go soft. Made a woman in her fifties pass out from coming so hard she forgot how to breathe. Bulma still can't sit down properly. Want references?"
Caulifla blinked.
Kale's mouth actually fell open.
Caulifla recovered first, smirking, but there was a new glint in her eye (part challenge, part hunger).
"Bullshit. No way a human has that kind of hardware."
18 shrugged, took a slow sip of her drink.
"Keep talking like that and I might let you find out for yourselves. We're always looking for new training partners."
Krillin choked on his beer.
Caulifla stepped closer, golden earrings flashing under the party lights.
"You're on, blondie. Name the time and place. Me and Kale versus your supposedly legendary husband. Winner gets bragging rights for life."
Kale squeaked, face scarlet, but didn't contradict her.
18's eyes flicked to Krillin, slow and wicked.
"What do you say, honey? Feel like showing a couple of Saiyan girls what Earth men are made of?"
Krillin wiped his mouth, grinning the same easy grin he'd worn right before destroying five of the strongest women on the planet.
"I mean… if they insist."
Caulifla stuck out her hand. "Deal."
They shook on it (Caulifla's grip crushing, Krillin's steady).
Kale hid behind her hair, whispering, "C-Caulifla, are we really—"
"Damn right we are," Caulifla said, never taking her eyes off Krillin. "I wanna see if the android's telling the truth. And if she is…" Her smirk turned downright feral. "Then we're keeping him for a week."
18 laughed softly, leaning in until her lips brushed Caulifla's ear.
"Careful what you wish for, little Saiyan. Once he starts, he doesn't stop until you're ruined for anyone else."
Caulifla shivered (just slightly), but met 18's gaze without flinching.
"Bring it."
Across the lawn, Beerus burped, oblivious. Whis smiled into his parfait like he knew exactly what was coming.
Krillin finished his beer, rolled his shoulders, and cracked his neck.
Round Six was already scheduled.
And this time, it was going to be legendary.
The party at Capsule Corp wound down just after midnight. Beerus was asleep on a pile of empty plates, Whis had vanished with Vados for "late-night sightseeing," and most guests had either passed out or flown home.
Caulifla and Kale, however, were wide awake, buzzing with adrenaline and something far more dangerous.
18 led the way to one of the private guest wings (a suite Bulma kept for "VIPs who needed absolute privacy"). She flicked on soft amber lights, locked the door behind them, and leaned against it with her arms crossed, the perfect picture of a woman who knew exactly what show she was about to watch.
Krillin stood in the center of the room, rolling his shoulders once, then pulled his shirt over his head and dropped it on the floor.
Caulifla's bravado faltered for half a second when she saw the faint bruises and bite marks still decorating his torso (souvenirs from the last three days). Kale's eyes went huge.
"Last chance to back out," Krillin said calmly, unbuckling his belt. "Once we start, I'm not stopping until you both tap out or pass out. Your choice."
Caulifla barked a laugh, but it was thinner than before. "Big talk. Let's see the goods, bald man."
18's smile was pure predator. "Strip them, honey. Slowly."
Krillin moved.
Caulifla tried to swagger forward, but he caught her by the waistband of her shorts and yanked her against his chest. One hand tangled in her spiky black hair, tilting her head back so he could claim her mouth in a kiss that was all teeth and dominance. She made a shocked sound, then melted, knees buckling.
Kale watched, trembling, until Krillin reached out with his free hand and dragged her in too. He kissed her just as hard (softer lips, shyer tongue, but the same hungry noise in her throat).
When he finally pulled back, both girls were flushed and panting.
He peeled Caulifla's top off first, then Kale's. Two sets of small, perfect breasts (Caulifla's darker nipples already peaked, Kale's lighter and trembling). Shorts and panties followed in quick, efficient movements until both Saiyans stood naked, goosebumps racing over battle-hardened skin.
Krillin stepped back and let his pants drop.
Fifteen inches of thick, rigid cock sprang free, flushed and already leaking.
Caulifla actually whispered, "Holy fuck…"
Kale covered her mouth with both hands, eyes watering.
18 laughed softly from her corner chair. "Told you."
Krillin didn't give them time to think. He picked Caulifla up by the thighs (effortlessly) and tossed her onto the king-sized bed. She landed on her back with a yelp. Kale followed a second later, thrown beside her.
He crawled between them like a wolf.
"Virgins?" he asked, voice low.
Both girls nodded, suddenly shy.
"Good," he said. "Then you'll only ever know what a real cock feels like."
He started with Caulifla (because she was still trying to look tough). He spread her legs wide, hooked them over his shoulders, and dragged his tongue up her slit in one slow, filthy lick.
Caulifla's bravado shattered. She screamed, back arching off the bed.
He ate her like he was starving (sucking her clit, tongue-fucking her virgin hole, two fingers sliding in to stretch her open). She lasted less than two minutes before she came hard, thighs clamping around his head, juices flooding his mouth.
Kale watched in open-mouthed shock, one hand unconsciously rubbing her own clit.
Krillin moved to her next, repeating the treatment until Kale was sobbing, coming twice in rapid succession, hips bucking wildly.
Then he knelt between Caulifla's thighs again.
"Ready?" he asked.
She managed a shaky nod.
He pressed the fat head of his cock against her soaked entrance and pushed.
Slowly. Relentlessly.
Caulifla's eyes went huge. Her mouth opened in a silent scream as the first five inches forced their way inside her virgin pussy, stretching her beyond belief. A thin trickle of blood mixed with her wetness (proof she'd never had anything close).
Krillin paused, letting her adjust, then slid another four inches home.
Caulifla found her voice (an inhuman, broken wail).
"It's too big! I can't—fuck—fuck—!"
He bottomed out (fifteen inches buried to the hilt, her belly bulging obscenely). Then he started to move.
Slow at first, then faster, harder. The bed slammed against the wall with every thrust. Caulifla's eyes rolled back, tongue lolling, drool running down her chin.
Kale watched in horrified fascination as her best friend was fucked into a mindless, babbling mess.
Caulifla came again (and again, and again), each orgasm ripping a scream from her throat until her voice cracked. On the fifth one her entire body seized, eyes fluttering shut, and she went limp (passed out cold, a blissful smile on her face, pussy still twitching around Krillin's cock.
He pulled out gently, turned to Kale.
"Your turn."
Kale tried to scramble back, shaking her head, but 18 was suddenly there, holding her down with gentle but unbreakable hands.
"Breathe, baby," 18 murmured. "Let him ruin you. You'll thank us later."
Krillin entered Kale in one slow, merciless thrust.
She screamed (higher, needier than Caulifla). Her pussy was even tighter, gripping him like a vice. He gave her the same treatment: deep, punishing strokes that lifted her hips off the bed, the bulge in her stomach obscene.
Kale lasted longer (barely). She came six times before her eyes rolled back and she blacked out too, limp and dripping, a puddle forming beneath her.
But Krillin wasn't finished.
He flipped Caulifla onto her stomach, pulled her hips up, and slid back in. She woke up with a hoarse scream, instantly coming again. He fucked her through three more orgasms until she passed out a second time.
Then Kale (on her hands and knees, then on her back with her legs over his shoulders, then pressed against the headboard) until she fainted again.
He alternated between them for over two hours (never softening, never slowing). The room echoed with wet slapping, broken moans, and the creak of the bedframe.
18 watched the entire time, fingers buried in her own pussy, coming silently every time one of the Saiyans blacked out.
When Krillin finally came (roaring, hips stuttering), he pulled out and painted both unconscious girls in thick ropes (across faces, tits, stomachs, still-gaping pussies).
They didn't stir.
He collapsed beside them, chest heaving.
18 crawled over, kissed him deep and filthy, then looked down at the wrecked Saiyans.
Caulifla's pussy was puffy and red, stretched wide, leaking cum. Kale's was the same (both of them twitching in their sleep, tiny aftershock orgasms rippling through them every few minutes).
"They won't walk for a week," 18 said proudly.
Krillin managed a tired grin. "Told them Earth men don't play around."
18 traced a finger through the mess on Caulifla's stomach and licked it clean.
"Next time," she said, "we keep them for a month."
From the bed, Caulifla mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like "please…" before passing out again.
Kale just whimpered in her sleep, legs still trembling.
Round Six was over.
The Saiyan girls from Universe 6 had been thoroughly, permanently ruined.
And they had never been happier.