The Sith Lord relieves Luke

Luke was being devoured by a whirlwind of emotion. He could feel the constant throbbing of his wrist dull to a steady ache beneath his armpit, his stomach so tight that he could nearly vomit for the past fifteen minutes. More than that, however, he could feel his anger-fueled erection throb beneath the fly of his fatigues, his balls squeezed against the fabric. “Stop it, Luke,” he begged to himself, inching backward towards the gantry and away from his nemesis. He knew it was futile - the gantry would end just as soon as he made it there, only providing a finite reprieve. Skywalker made sure not to look down, otherwise he might lose his balance in this weakened state and not survive at all.

“Luke,” Vader hissed from behind. The wounded rebel delicately inched himself upward onto the instrument at the end of the catwalk, carefully wrapping himself around as he turned to look at the Sith Lord. “You do not yet realize your importance. You’ve only begun to discover your power. Join me and I can complete your training - and bring order to the galaxy.

These words enraged Luke further; though he tried his best to pretend his pulsating hardon wasn’t prominently showing through his trousers, it was of little use. He shifted his weight and pressed his belly up against the cold metal of the instrument, hoping to hide himself from Vader. “I’ll never join you,” Luke shouted with as much rage as his cracked vocal chords could muster, clumsily spinning off to the side of the instrument before realizing there was nowhere left for him to go. He looked to Vader and frowned defiantly as the wind thrashed against his matted hair.

“If you only knew the power of the Dark Side,” Vader mused for a second, before going completely silent. Luke stood still as he waited for the villain to finish his sentence, shivering beneath the cold. He thought he saw Vader’s mask look downward at his waist - then, he saw his gloved mask rise upward, his fingers stretched out. The youth felt a disturbing tremor beneath his trousers - with a flick of Vader’s wrist and a flash of a second, Luke’s fatigues split at the seams, the wind quick to collect the remains as they spun downward into the depths below. Luke was horrified as he stood there with nothing on below his waist, save for a simple and modest pair of white briefs. “You cannot escape me, Luke. You are not as adept as you think you are at shielding your thoughts. I can feel your wrath - the lust of conquest and **** bulging from your groin. I shall relieve you, then, and give you a full glimpse of the power of the ****.”

Vader flicked his wrist once more and Luke’s underpants split, the soft fabric joining the trousers that fell before. Skywalker stood there in embarrassment and filled with nervousness, knowing that he could not escape unless he wished for certain ****. How he wished he could cup his sex - which was so prominently sticking out in Vader’s direction - but to let go would mean to fall into oblivion. The youth chose to hold on as best he could, weather whatever sick sorcery the Sith Lord would attempt on him. Though the cold and rushing wind would ordinarily shrink any other man, Luke was unable to resist his temptation. His four inches continued to twitch and throb.

“Shorter than I expected,” Vader couldn’t help but joke.

Luke suddenly groaned as Vader began to swirl his fingers about. He could feel an invisible **** coil around his penis, gently tugging his foreskin up and down, tightly banding itself around his head. “Please don’t do this,” Luke begged, his knees buckling beneath the immense pleasure. The poor Jedi had never even had another individual touch his sex before - and now he was likely to unload before his great nemesis. This couldn’t be happening. Just as he was about to protest again, another tendril of **** energy plunged itself into the crack of his ass, causing Skywalker to cry out in pain as the energy waited for him to get used to the sensation. Then, suddenly, that pain began to feel like a great lust. His body yearned for this strange sensation - it wanted to unleash, purge itself to this new experience. But he couldn’t. Luke was a Jedi, he had to fight the Dark Side, he couldn’t let Vader win over something so intimate.

“You... won’t... do... this!”

“Yes... I... can!”

Luke let out a harrowing cry as semen sprang from the slit of his penis, all four inches bouncing up and down, twitching as his seed continued to unleash. So far and intense was this great pleasure that the first shot of Luke’s essence flew all the way to the chest of Vader’s armor. Tears slid down his cheeks as finally stopped fighting against the Sith Lord’s power, allowing the powers to fully and completely penetrate him and relieve him. Luke felt lightheaded as his sex stopped spraying all over, it starting to shrivel alongside his balls. “I can’t believe I let you,” he moaned to himself, shaking in horror and ecstasy as he heaved. “I’m too weak.”

“Indeed, you are,” Vader agreed. But after a slight pause, Vader held out his hand, extending it not for the ****, but rather to beckon Luke to join him. The drained rebel looked to the Sith Lord and then to the abyss below him. He didn’t know which option was worse - giving up his soul completely to the Dark Side or wasting all hope that was left for the galaxy by letting go into the depths of Cloud City? What should he do? How Luke wished he could ask for Ben or Yoda for advice - they would know what to do.