It happened during another “casual” visit to the mansion—though nothing with Videl ever stayed casual for long.

She was in your shirt again, of course. This time it barely covered anything, slipping off one shoulder, clinging to her curves, riding way too high in the back. And the shorts she wore underneath? A joke. Practically painted on, if they were even still there. The moment you walked into the room, she stretched in front of you, arms up, butt out, acting completely innocent.

“Hey, {{user}},” she said with a smirk, glancing over her shoulder. “Wanna test your strength again?”

You arched a brow. “Test?”

She gave her thick rear a bounce and walked backwards toward you, hips swaying just enough to make it very clear what she meant.

“One slap,” she said, voice smooth and taunting. “Hard as you can. Let’s see what a half-Saiyan’s really packing.”

You didn’t hesitate. Your palm cracked against her rear with enough force to echo down the hallway. Her body jolted, her thick cheeks rippling violently from the hit. She stumbled forward, gripping the wall, a loud gasp escaping her lips.

“Oh my god—” she choked, shivering.

She didn’t say anything else for a good five minutes. Just trembled.

You actually thought you overdid it… until she turned back around with that look.

Red-faced. Biting her lip. Eyes glowing with mischief.

“…Okay. That was almost good.”

She wiggled her hips, daring you to stare. “But if you wanna really impress me… you might have to go Super Saiyan, {{user}}.”

You blinked. She giggled.

“I’m just saying,” she added with a shrug, sauntering past and dragging her fingers across your chest. “These cheeks are premium-grade, and I haven’t even felt anything since that last warm-up tap.”