10/31/2025 : Prompt : Monsterfucking / Exhibitionism / Master x Pet with Darth Vader
A/N : And here’s our final fic for this year kinktober. I actually laughed while writing this bcs… the robocock is yours @anisangeldust (we’re going to hell baby). Enjoy !!!
TW : PiV, cervix suction, robotic cock, body horror ? thumb sucking, mind control.
THE THRONE ROOM WAS COLD AND VAST, a cathedral of metal and shadow. Every sound was swallowed by the hum of machines, every breath you drew seemed to echo against the obsidian walls. You could see your own reflection in the polished floor, small and fragile beneath the towering silhouette that waited on the dais.
The man who ruled the galaxy did not move. Darth Vader sat upon the black throne, the faint rasp of his respirator the only proof that something human still lived behind the mask. The crimson light of the setting sun poured through the tall windows, catching the edges of his armor and turning them into fire.
When he finally spoke, the voice rolled through the chamber like thunder.
The dark figure on the throne loomed larger than life, his mechanical breathing echoing ominously through the cavernous chamber. As you approached, the clanking of your own footsteps seemed to grow louder, each one a testament to your approaching doom.
"You're late," he growled, the words dripping with disdain. His yellow eyes flashed beneath the scarred visor of his helmet as he appraised you with a cold, calculating gaze. "I don't tolerate tardiness, pet."
He rose to his full, towering height, the metal of his armor glinting in the fading light. With a few strides, he closed the distance between you, his presence overwhelming. He reached out with a mechanical hand, gripping your chin firmly, his cold fingers digging into your flesh.
"I should punish you for your insolence," he hissed, his breath hot and stale against your face. His other hand drifted lower, tracing the curve of your waist, the touch both possessive and threatening. "But I have plans for you, my little one. Plans that require you to be... presentable."
He released you abruptly, pushing you back. "Go and prepare yourself. I expect you to be ready when I return. And don't keep me waiting again."
Vader watched as you scurried away, his mechanical hand trailing behind you, brushing against your rear in a fleeting, almost dismissive caress. The pet outfit lay on the bed, a shimmering scrap of black and silver fabric that left little to the imagination. You could feel his eyes boring into your back as you hurried to change.
The outfit was a perverse mockery of a slave leash, with a collar that dug into your neck and a chain that clinked against your hips as you moved. The top was a skimpy black corset, barely covering your breasts, leaving your midriff bare. The skirt, if it could be called that, was a mere scrap of material that barely reached mid-thigh, the hem fluttering with each step.
You could feel the cool air on your exposed skin as you adjusted the outfit, tugging at the fabric to try and coax a little more coverage from the skimpy garment. It was a humiliating ensemble, designed to display your body for your master's pleasure and inspection.
With a deep breath, you turned back to face the throne room, the heels of your boots clicking on the polished floor. You kept your head down, your long hair falling forward to hide your blushing face as you awaited his return.
Vader settled into his obsidian throne, the dark metal creaking slightly under his weight. His mechanical leg, a grotesque amalgamation of hydraulics and scarred flesh, stretched out before him as he leaned back, his yellow eyes fixed upon you.
"Come here," he commanded, his voice a sharp crack in the cavernous room. His fingers snapped impatiently, beckoning you closer.
You scurried forward on your knees, the cold floor biting into your exposed skin. The chain around your waist clinked and rattled with each movement, a lewd accompaniment to your approach. As you drew near, you could feel the heat of his gaze, the intensity of his focus boring into you like a physical touch.
Reaching the base of the dais, you sank to your knees, bowing your head in deference to your master. You could see the gleaming black of his boots, the polished metal of his armor, the fearsome silhouette of his masked face looming above you. Your heart raced in your chest, a mix of fear and a perverse thrill of anticipation.
"Look at me," he ordered, his voice a low, menacing rumble. Slowly, you raised your head, your blue eyes meeting his yellow ones. His gaze raked over you, taking in every exposed inch of your body, the skimpy corset, the short skirt, the collar around your neck. A slow, cruel smile curved his lips beneath the mask.
"Much better," he purred, his voice dripping with dark satisfaction. "You wear the uniform well. A suitable attire for my little pet."
His mechanical hand reached out, gripping your chin firmly, tilting your face up to force you to maintain eye contact. His thumb brushed over your lower lip, a fleeting, almost tender gesture that sent a shiver down your spine.
"I have business to attend to," he said, releasing you abruptly.
As the court filed in, the throne room echoed with the murmur of voices and the clanking of armor. Vader sat tall and imposing, his yellow eyes scanning the assembled crowd of advisors and dignitaries. He listened to their reports, his expression stoic and unreadable beneath the scarred visage of his helmet.
Suddenly, he turned his attention to you, still kneeling submissively at his feet. With a sharp gesture, he crooked a finger at you, beckoning you closer. You crawled forward, the rough stone of the floor scraping against your exposed knees, until you sat directly in front of him, your face mere inches from his metal-clad crotch.
Without a word, he pressed the pad of his thumb against your lips, the cold, smooth metal a stark contrast to the warmth of your skin. You knew instantly what he wanted, the unspoken command hanging heavy in the air.
With a shudder of mingled fear and reluctant excitement, you parted your lips, allowing his thumb to slip into your mouth. Your tongue instinctively curled around the invading digit, your lips closing around it. The taste of metal and the faint, lingering scent of the oil that lubricated his mechanical hand filled your senses.
His thumb pressed deeper, pushing against the back of your throat, demanding your obedience. You felt a rush of heat to your cheeks, a blush that had nothing to do with the cold air of the throne room. You knew all eyes were upon you, all aware of the lewd act you were being forced to perform.
Yet, even as humiliation burned through you, you felt a traitorous thrill, a dark excitement at being used so brazenly in front of the court. Your heart raced and your breathing grew shallow, your chest heaving against the confines of the corset.
You sucked his thumb, your cheeks hollowing with the obscene action, your eyes fluttering closed in reluctant surrender. The court fell silent, the air heavy with the weight of their stares and the unspoken judgment of your debasement.
Vader's only response was a low, rumbling sound from deep within his chest, a sound that could have been a chuckle, a growl, or a sigh of satisfaction. His thumb remained lodged in your mouth, a silent command to continue your lewd task as he attended to the business of the Empire.
As the officer droned on, presenting his report, Vader's attention remained focused on you. Suddenly, he reached down and grabbed you roughly by the waist, hauling you up onto his lap. You yelped in surprise, your hands scrabbling for purchase on the smooth metal of his armor as he positioned you astride his thigh.
His mechanical hand gripped your chin, forcing you to look at him as he leaned in close, his masked face mere inches from yours. The officer's voice faded into the background as Vader's yellow eyes bore into yours with an intensity that made your heart race.
With a silent, stern gaze, he issued a command, his other hand gesturing downward, pointing at the segmented armor plating that protected his most intimate area. The unspoken order was clear: remove it. Now.
Your hands trembled slightly as you reached for the fastenings, your fingers brushing against the cold metal. You could feel the heat of his body radiating through the armor, a stark contrast to the chill of the throne room. With a deep breath, you began to work at the clasps, your nails scraping against the grooves.
As the plating came loose, you lifted it away, a sense of trepidation and a perverse thrill coursing through you. The officer's voice faded away entirely, replaced by the rush of blood in your ears and the sound of your own shallow breathing.
There, straining against the fabric of his undergarments, was the unmistakable outline of his manhood. Even flaccid, it was an imposing sight, a testament to his virility and power. The air seemed to grow thick and heavy, the heat of his arousal palpable.
You could feel the weight of the court's eyes upon you, the knowledge that all present were aware of the intimate act you were being compelled to perform. Yet, there was no hesitation in Vader's gaze, only a hard, unyielding expectation.
With a deep breath, you reached for the waistband of his undergarments, your fingers curling beneath the fabric. The material stretched taut as you tugged downward, the shape of his manhood becoming increasingly apparent.
As you tugged down Vader's undergarments, his massive cock sprang free, slapping against your stomach with a heavy, fleshy thud. You gasped at the sight, your eyes widening in shock and a perverse awe. The organ was a grotesque amalgamation of man and machine, a twisted testament to the dark side's power over the flesh.
The lower half of his shaft was encased in a gleaming, metallic sheath, the cold metal a stark contrast to the flushed, human skin above. It pulsed with a life of its own, the mechanicalEOF pumping rhythmically, keeping the flesh engorged and throbbing. The union of man and machine was a horrifying sight, a chilling reminder of the lengths Vader would go to sate his darkest desires.
The human half of his cock was just as imposing, thick and long, the shaft veined with pulsing arteries. It curved upward, the bulbous head an angry purple, already leaking Pre-cum. The sight of it sent a shiver down your spine, a mix of fear and a forbidden thrill. You knew, without a doubt, that this monstrosity had been forged for a single purpose: to bring pleasure and pain in equal measure.
Vader's mechanical hand gripped your wrist, his fingers wrapping around your forearm, squeezing hard enough to bruise. His other hand, still gripping your chin, tilted your face up to force you to maintain eye contact. The yellow lenses of his helmet glowed with an eerie light, the pupils dilating with arousal.
Vader's mechanical hand tightened around your wrist, his grip unyielding as he forced you to guide his monstrous, half-human, half-machine cock towards your most intimate entrance. You whimpered and squirmed in his lap, your body tensing at the thought of being penetrated by such a grotesque, unnatural appendage.
"Please, Master," you mewled, your voice high and desperate, "it's too big! You'll hurt me!" Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as the flared head of his cock kissed your entrance, the cold metal and hot, throbbing flesh a sickening contrast.
His other hand, still gripping your chin, squeezed your face, forcing you to maintain eye contact. The yellow lenses of his helmet glowed with a feral, predatory light as he loomed over you, his masked visage a picture of cruel intent.
"Silence," he growled, his voice a low, menacing rumble. "You will take what your Master gives you. All of it."
With a harsh, brutal thrust of his hips, he forced the head of his cock past your entrance, stretching you wide around the invasive intrusion.
Vader's mechanical hand gripped your hip with bruising force as he thrust into you, the flared head of his monstrous cock popping past your tight entrance with a sickening, wet squelch. You buried your face in the folds of his cape, biting your lip hard to stifle the anguished cry that threatened to escape you. The rich, dark fabric muffled your desperate mewl, but could not drown out the obscene sound of flesh slapping against flesh as he began to hilting, driving his massive length deeper into your unwilling body.
Each brutal thrust sent waves of painful pleasure radiating through you, the unnatural heat of his half-human cock searing your insides. The metallic sheath pulsed and throbbed, stretching you even wider, the cold, hard metal an alien intrusion against your soft, pliant flesh.
Vader's breathing grew heavier, the rasp of his mechanical respiration mingling with the lewd, wet sounds of your defilement. He seemed to revel in your muffled cries, your body's instinctive resistance only spurring on his dark lust. His grip on your hip tightened, fingers sinking into the soft flesh hard enough to leave bruises in the shape of his digits.
The court looked on in silence, the air heavy with a mix of shock, horror, and a perverse fascination. Vader paid them no mind, his focus solely on the exquisite sensation of violating his pet, of claiming her most intimate depths for his own twisted pleasure.
"Such a good little slave, taking your Master's cock so well," he praised, his voice a low, sickly rumble. His hips pumped faster, the force of his thrusts growing more brutal, more demanding. The cape shook with the force of his movements, your muffled mewls growing louder, more desperate.
Vader's mechanical cock throbbed and pulsed inside you, the sensation sending shockwaves of painful pleasure coursing through your core. Suddenly, the shaft began to change, ridges and protrusions emerging from the smooth metal. They dragged along your sensitive walls, catching on your tender flesh with each brutal thrust.
You couldn't hold back the anguished wail that tore from your throat, your body convulsing as the new contours of his monstrous cock ravaged your insides. Tears streamed down your face, your fingers clutching desperately at the fabric of his cape as you tried to anchor yourself against the onslaught.
But Vader was not finished with his dark ministrations. With a sinister hum, a hidden mechanism in the tip of his cock engaged. The flared head split open, revealing a grasping, suckering mouth-like orifice. Before you could even process the horror of it, the tip latched onto your cervix, the wet, fleshy maw sealing around the delicate entrance to your womb.
You screamed, the sound ripping through the cape and echoing off the walls of the throne room. Your body went rigid, back arching as the suckering tip began to draw on your cervix, the lewd slurping sounds of your defilement growing louder, more obscene. The sensation was beyond anything you had ever experienced - a sickening mix of pleasure and pain that left you dizzy and lightheaded.
Vader groaned, the sound a dark, rumbling growl of satisfaction. His hips snapped forward, driving his cock as deep as it would go, the ridges and protrusions grinding against your battered walls. He held himself there, buried to the hilt, as the suckering tip pulsed and milked your cervix, drawing out your essence.
As Vader's monstrous cock pulsed and suckled at your core, his mechanical hand reached up and clamped around your skull, fingers sinking into your hair. You felt a strange sensation, like a cold, alien presence invading your mind, worming its way into your thoughts.
Suddenly, images flooded your consciousness - visions of you, on your knees, eagerly awaiting Vader's return. You saw yourself with a collar around your neck, a leash in his hand, crawling behind him as he strode through the halls of the Death Star. The scene shifted, and you found yourself curled up in his bed, your head pillowed on his chest, his arm wrapped around you possessively as you slept.
The thoughts grew darker, more depraved. You imagined yourself bound and gagged, begging for his touch, craving his brutal caress. You envisioned being used in every room of the Star Destroyer, being passed around like a plaything for Vader and his men to enjoy.
With each passing second, the idea of being Vader's pet, his personal plaything, sank deeper into your mind. You felt your will crumbling, your identity dissolving, replaced by a single, all-consuming desire to serve and please your Master.
Vader's voice, cold and commanding, echoed through the invasive thoughts. "You are my pet. You exist for my pleasure. You will obey my every command."
As he spoke, his hips began to move again, his cock plunging in and out of your battered sex. The wet, obscene sounds of your defilement filled your ears, the pain and pleasure blurring together until you couldn't distinguish one from the other.
Vader's mechanical body shuddered as his climax approached, the force of his thrusts growing erratic and powerful. With a final, brutal slam of his hips, he buried himself to the hilt inside you, his monstrous cock throbbing and pulsing as he found his release.
A flood of thick, scalding seed erupted from the tip of his shaft, the first jets of his release splattering against your battered cervix. The sheer volume was overwhelming, painting your insides white with his essence. The heat of it was intense, searing, a testament to the power and virility of his dark side-enhanced physique.
But even as he came, Vader used another feature of his robotic manhood. A hidden set of tubes and pumps that ran along the length of his shaft whirred to life, the mechanical sounds mingling with the obscene wet noises of your defilement. Suddenly, a secondary stream of fluid began to pump into you, the cold, viscous liquid a sickening contrast to the scorching heat of his seed.
You could feel it sloshing and churning in your core, the foreign substance mixing with Vader's release. The sensation was bizarre and unsettling, a perverse violation of your most intimate depths. The cold seeped into your flesh, your womb, your very bones, as if the dark side itself was infiltrating your being.
Vader's grip on your hips tightened, his fingers sinking into the soft flesh hard enough to leave bruises as he rode out the waves of his intense climax. His mechanical breathing grew ragged, the rasp of his respiration mingling with the wet, sloppy sounds of his dark coupling.
As Vader's climax subsided, he remained seated on the throne, his softening, slick cock still buried deep inside you. You were left impaled, your body draped across his lap, your dress hiked up around your waist. Your mind felt fuzzy, thoughts scattered and confused, a result of the dark side's influence seeping into your psyche.
Occasionally, Vader would reach out and stroke your hair, his mechanical fingers combing through the tangled locks like one would pet a dog. The action was a clear display of his ownership and control over you. You could only whimper and mewl in response, your voice hoarse and weak, as you remained skewered on his massive shaft.
Every half hour, like clockwork, a desperate, needy whimper would escape your lips as the suckering tip of his cock would latch onto your cervix once more, drawing out a fresh gush of your combined essences. The sensation would make your body shudder and convulse, tears leaking from your eyes as you were forced to endure the relentless stimulation.
As you remained impaled and dumbed down on Vader's massive, robotic cock, a new torment began. Every five minutes, without fail, the flared head of his shaft would start to move, prodding and probing the sensitive walls of your womb. The cold, hard metal and the textured ridges would grind against your most intimate depths, sending jolts of painful pleasure shooting through your core.
But the true hell began when the suckering tip would latch onto your G-spot, the fleshy maw sealing around the sensitive bundle of nerves. The suction would start out gentle, growing stronger and more insistent with each passing second. You could feel your own arousal building, your body betraying you as the relentless stimulation forced your treacherous flesh to respond.
Tears streamed down your face as you writhed weakly on Vader's lap, mewling and whimpering with each passing minute. The obscene slurping sounds of the suckering tip filled your ears, mingling with the constant, maddening rasp of Vader's mechanical breathing. Your mind remained fuzzy, thoughts scattered and confused, as you were forced to endure this twisted, never-ending pleasure.
