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Harlot 10K

Author's Notes

Some personal headcanons I wanna list real quick:

- XLR8's clothes are made of ferrofluid. Ferrofluid is attracted to magnets, and according to the show's lore, XLR8's immune system is electromagneticly charged, so I thought him wearing ferrofluid would have been cool. He wears nothing underneath it.

- I prefer to depict the aliens as separate people with their own personalities, lives, interests, etc. They all work together to patrol various parts around the world and fight crime.

- This was originally published on my A03 on 28/07/2024.

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Night patrol.

XLR8 was no stranger to it.

He’d been a hero for years by now, and was familiar with the responsibilities, stress, danger and drama that came with the job. And he enjoyed it! Always did, but over time he grew to hate the night patrol.

The nights were long. Harsh. Cold. He hated the cold. 

He tried his fair share of gimmicks to fight off the cold. 

He tried bringing a thermos filled with hot coffee, but often either misplaced it in the weirdest corners of Omnitrix city or burned himself with it. 

He tried to take shifts with Heatblast or Swampfire as they were practically walking bonfires, but over time they started to go on shifts with each other instead. No doubt to get stoned in some odd place without Diamondhead catching them in the act.

Now he was experimenting with layering clothes. He'd built layers upon layers of Diamondhead’s jackets and whatever shirts and pants he'd stolen from the others. It had to be thick, but not too thick. He still needed to be agile.

But he forgot to account for the fact that it was also expected to rain , and his wheels didn’t fare so well on slippery surfaces. Not to mention all the layers made him too top-heavy, therefore throwing off his balance.

Then one thing led to another during a random ambush by some familar-looking drones. That was how he got captured by Vilgax.

Pure carelessness.

Now he was suspended from restraints around his arms and legs, trapped on Vilgax’s ship in the middle of space, hopefully not too far from Omnitrix city. The clothes he borrowed from his friends were now missing, and only the thin layer of ferrofluid remained.

A familiar, towering figure stomped into the room as soon as he got confirmation that XLR8 was captured and properly restrained.

"Fancy seeing you here tonight, kineceleran. I'll admit that expected you to put up a bit of better fight against my drones. You're not losing your edge, are you?"

"Cut the bullshit, man. We've been at it since 7 this morning fighting that damn Clown Gang again for the umpteenth time this week! They just don't know when to quit, just like YOU!"

"You want to talk about me losing MY edge? Speak for yourself! When was the last time YOU came up with a plan that wasn't stealing the omnitrix for galaxy-wide domination? As if we haven't had dozens of weirdasses come as us in an attempt to do the same shit by now. You've gone stale!"

Vilgax, despite not showing it, was taken back by the smaller man's complete lack of fear. Unforunately, he wasn't wrong, though. The force had been fighting against him for decades now, with each new scheme of his, no matter how, always being sucessfully foiled by them. They grew accustomed to him. Immune to him.

“Even Dr. Animo has been more of a threat these days, and we never took him that seriously! Always finding some new animals to experiment on. Still looks goofy all the same, though."

The thought started to bite at him more and more. Had he really lost his edge?

Then he remembered that XLR8 always wore that thin coat of ferrofluid that hugged his skin. And then he had an idea.

"When I just abducted you, were you afraid?"

XLR8 yawned. "Not even for a nanosecond."

"Not even right now?"

"Nah."

“Is that so? Not even when I engage the magnets?”

And in mere seconds, the ferrofluid coating XLR8's body was completely stripped from his skin. Vantablack liquid rapidly flung itself down to little drains in the cold, metal floor surrounding him. They balled up into little spiky "Sea Urchin"-like blobs before slithering through tiny holes into the reservoirs below.  

And now 8, to his stomach-churning shock and embarrassment, was completely bare to Vilgax, as he didn't like to wear anything underneath the fluid. He always said that it made him less aerodynamic. Caused "too much drag".  

Even Vilgax himself, albeit for a few seconds, seemed surprised to see this man completely naked before him. He had witnessed many things during his seemingly endless endeavors to conquer the galaxy. Entire planets exploding into stardust from one blast of a laser.  The sloppy innards of null guardians and vulpimancers he hunted down to sustain himself in the Null Void. Some of the most visceral displays of raw rage and envy, and the violence and betrayal such hatred spawned, came from an 11-year old boy he once knew.

But there was something so....... novel, so alluring, about the mere sight of this arrogant, pompous lizard, trapped, red-faced and writhing with shame after being stripped of something as simple as clothing. 

And such a sight brought about the strangest, yet most delightfully sinister tingling sensation which coursed through his nerves. One that he hadn't enjoyed in years. Foreign, but familiar. Unexpected, but invited. He felt it seep into the darkest crevices of his heart, then flutter in the deepest pits of his stomach, and then warm the seediest recesses of his loins.

It was a rare, yet ever so sensational, sick, sadistic lust. 

How excellerating. 

Vilgax slowly circled around 8 to fully observe his physique from all sides.  The heavy clanking of his metal boots was the only sound which filled the room. XLR8 grew tense and quiet as he felt his eyes, red with sin, scanning him quietly, yet obsessively. 

First the two, faded, fine scars on his chest, then the subtle hint of abs on his soft yet defined midriff, then the size of his tiny little waist, then the intricate cuts of muscle on his thighs and calves, then the rosy little slit between them, and then the size of his long, girthy yet almost ribbon-like striped tail. He then touched 8 for the first time as he took his tail into his long, crimson red claws to pull it up and observe below. 

WAP! 

Quick like its owner, the tail whipped Vilgax in his eye, which sent him staggering back into a nearby wall.

"HISSSSSSSSSSSS! Keep your hands to YOURSELF!" yelled XLR8 as his head whipped back behind him to see Vilgax against the wall, clutching his wincing face. "I knew you to always be a freak, but NOT like this!" 

While he knew to expect the worst from Vilgax, he was astonished. Everyone always knew him solely as being the physically violent and destructive type. Vilgax the Destroyer. Vilgax the Annihilation. Vilgax the Man Who Wouldn't - no - Couldn't Die. But not Vilgax the Pervert . Was a man like him capable of feeling such emotions? And of having such thoughts? 

No, he couldn't be. 

Right? 

Red with rage, Vilgax quickly composed himself and stomped back to XLR8, who flinched in pain as he roughly yanked his tail and wrapped it crudely around his giant fist. 

"Lash me one more time and I will tear it off. Can you understand that?" 

He reluctantly nodded. It was the only thing he could do now.  He had never been in a situation like this with Vilgax. What the hell was he supposed to do?

"Be a proper harlot for me and let me inspect you." 

Harlot? 

He succeeded in lifting his tail the second time, exposing the Kineceleran's toned ass. 8 froze, his burning face now hidden behind his visor. The sharp tip of a crimson digit grazed along the curvature, leaving a thin strand of blood in its wake. 

XLR8 flinched. 

It then poked and prodded at the scarred cheek. Two big fingers gave it a firm pinch.

XLR8 muttered something from behind the visor. Vilgax grew curious. Was that a curse? Or was that whimpering? Coming from him? XLR8 , of all people? Or was it moaning? He needed to know. Then….

WAP!

A riding crop slashed at 8’s ass. He screamed.

WAP! WAP! WAP! WAP! WAP!

His entire backside was stained with fresh bruises and goosebumps in seconds. XLR8 thrashed around wildly, desperate to break free. The noises behind the mask grew hysterical and panicked. More animalistic. Vilgax pressed further. What was 8 really feeling?

WAP! WAP! WAP! WAP! WAP!

As XLR8’s legs squirmed recklessly, Vilgax looked down between his thighs to see a trail of dew leaking from the slit. A clear little puddle formed on the cold, hard floor.

Lust.

It was lust.

8's torso was restrained by Vilgax’s burly arm as it suddenly wrapped around his narrow, little hips to spread the lips from in front. He froze to the sensation of another finger rubbing the clit, which had grown slightly from arousal. He didn't know what to make of it.

-whip whip whip whip whip-

The riding crop, coming from behind, tapped lightly at the bud, causing XLR8’s breathing to grow heavy. Threads of dew formed on the crop with every tap.

-whip whip whip whip whip-

The tapping grew harder. Shot up his spine harder. Climax drew nearer. He started to moan.

Shit.

The fingers moved inwards, running over the slit itself.  It was tight. Too tight. Vilgax knew enough about 8 to know about his side-hustle. He wasn’t a virgin. Not with all the clients he had. He's quite popular. But something was off about it regardless.

It was time to inspect further.

F-FUCK!.... Ahh~! ” were the first clear words Vilgax could make out as a girthy finger slid into XLR8’s little slit. The tip of the claw grazed his insides as it stretched him out. Dew mixed with a small touch of blood coated the finger as it dug further inside with every stroke. It felt just like Fourarms. 

"Raise that mask, harlot."

“.............”

“Raise that mask or I will break it.”

The visor quickly retracted. XLR8’s flushed face was drenched with sweat, tears and spit, his black makeup running with it. His eyes struggled to meet Vilgax’s as his finger slowly pumped within him.

“Are you trying to go celibate, harlot? You, of all people? This shouldn’t be gripping me like it is.”

“...Ah~...Fuck, man…..”

“Answer me when I’m speaking to you!”

“.....Fuck…I….I-I haven’t been able to have sex in months… Because…… uh~”

WAP! Another tap from behind.

“AAHH!~ Shit…. Because I’m…. too busy with night shifts these day- oooh~ ......To … Fuck, w-who am I kidding. You damn well know the rest!”

"Tell me, harlot.... You sleep with your colleagues, don't you?" 

"I'm s-sure you know the anawer to that, stalker." 

WAP! 

"Answer the question properly, harlot, and I'll release you." 

"Oh~....... god damn it. F-fine, I'll admit it. Yes, I do. Fuck. I-I'm sure you fucking k-knew that too." 

"With all 9, 999 of them?" 

"Y-Yes!"

Was the mere idea of sleeping with 9,999 different aliens in a year ridiculous? Yes, it was. But such a feat was easily achievable with just a little bit of speed.......and a lot of slacking off.

"Really? So you’ve slept with the pyronite?" 

"Y-yes...." 

".......The galvan, too?"

".....Yea."

"And your boss? The petrosapien?"

"Yep."

"And the splixson?"

"Yes."

"Even your vulpimancer?”

He couldn't respond.

Vilgax leaned in.

"Even your pet vulpimancer , Kineceleran?" 

"........" 

"................." 

"............................ Yes." 

Xlr8 couldn't look him in the eye. 

Vilgax then pulled out as 8 was on the brink of climax.

The restraints around 8's quivering arms and legs unlocked, causing him to fall face-first in his own fluids. But to his dismay, his legs, along with his whole body, were far too numb to move like they should.

Vilgax didn't decide to finger him just out of lust; he knew enough about 8 to understand that penetrative sex made his whole body, especially his legs, numb from pleasure. And depending on how good the sex was, it could have rendered him almost completely immobile for hours.

As he cursed under his breath, he struggled to push himself up to no avail. His wobbling hands and knees slipped and splashed in his own confession of lust, his figure glistening with it.  Regardless, 8 tried to ignore this, pressing Vilgax to grant him his freedom.

“A-alright. I answered your questions. Now, please, j-just leave me alone....” His raspy, sharp voice had grown noticeably low and shaky.

Vilgax responded by dragging XLR8 up to his knees to kneel right in front of his bulge protruding between his strong, veiny legs.

“.........Y-you said you let me go…..”

"Correct, and I released you from the restraints. But I didn't say I would let you leave ." 

"..........You son of a bitc -" 

The already disgraced speedster had no time to react as one veiny, hulking, dripping-wet tendril popped out from Vilgax’s slit and forced itself into the confines of his mouth. 

And then there he was.

His 10,000th client.

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What was it about the kineceleran that made him want to do it?

Was it the chance to see this arrogant man fall to his knees, literally and figuratively? Was it to find a way to destroy Omnitrix City's beloved alien force from the inside out? Or was it for another, more intimate reason that was uncharacteristic of him? 

Vilgax couldn't pinpoint the exact reason why, but all he knew was that XLR8 was passionate .  

Arching his back, 8 shivered as Vilgax tirelessly pressed on inside him, igniting a pleasure he hadn’t felt in months. 

Gargantuan hands wrapped around the petite waist, refusing to let go. 8 gripped the sheets, ripping and tearing them, grinding his teeth against fine threads, moaning into the mattress. His ass pointed up higher with every thrust, begging for more. Installable lust. Lust. Lust was his downfall for sure. No doubt about it. An unshakable vice. One hard lash on his ass brings him close to climax. 

His thoughts spiralled.

Come on, come on, come on . Please God, please. Please please please please please I promise I’ll never disobey you again oh God yes daddy fuck fuck fuck FUCK FUCK FUCK -

………

He pulled out. He pulled out. He just edged him AGAIN. This motherfucker . He just edged him.

Why? Why? Why?

Vilgax had pulled out. He had retreated, but not for long. He was close to climax, but he couldn’t finish. He couldn’t admit it. No. Not yet. Not when 8 was in the state he was. 

Cold. Shivering. Submissive. Raw. Tears completely tarnished the makeup. Face coated in black. Delicious. That arch of his back. Immaculate. He was crying. From joy? From sorrow? Both? 

He picked him up by the little waist and dragged him to the bedhead. 

The helmet’s tip pierced into the pillow’s stuffing. Thighs pulled apart with ease. Dripping wet, with mania. He buried himself into his petite frame. Buried himself into his slender neck. Little claws gripped the silky tendrils of his “hair”. They then slid down his torso and up his broad shoulders, pulling him closer. The mouthpiece slipped off. Slender neck exposed. Ready to devour. Bloody bites littered blue flesh.

Slow, deep and hard, just the way he liked it. Calling his name into the sheets. Digging deeper into the cervix. Carving his name into the womb. 

And as 8’s trembling arms and legs wound around Vilgax’s frame, climax approaching, he had an epiphany. 

He could get used to this.

No more fighting. No more Dr. Animo. No more clowns. No more spending endless nights patrolling. No more working himself to the bone. Working himself to sickness. Working himself to death. Just him, a rich man and a good time, all the time.

His pussy, the collar. His tail, the leash. His enemy, his owner. 

His role as a harlot. So beautiful. So perfect. So sacred. So right

He felt warm at night.

Unexpected paradise.

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…………………

Vilgax sat, head in hands, on the edge of the bed. XLR8 laid unconscious beside him, seed dripping from behind.

The reality told them that they just made their bed, and now they had to lie in it. Together.

And, yet, so sensual and intimate.

Submissive.

Vulnerable.

Sensual.

Romantic.

He liked it.

He quite liked hi -

 

NO.

Vilgax wanted to slap himself silly at the thought.

He rebuked that thought. Tried hard to deny it. He was ugly! He was loose! Unsatisfying! Pathetic! He was too small! Yes. Too small. He could never be a lover. He was doomed to always be nothing more than a trashy, diseased street walker guised as a hero! Yes… an ill-fitted glove at best.

But a pang from a deep, dark crevice in his chest told him he was lying.

He couldn’t figure out which conclusion was more damning: the hero coming to terms with the fact that he had given himself up to the villain to pacify his desire to be held, or the villain realizing that he went through the trouble of capturing the hero, the sneering speedster no less, only to end up in bed with him after observing his naked frame.

Overworked, lonely and touch-starved .

Those were the elements they had in common.

Perhaps he should have known better than to pair up two overworked, lonely and touch-starved people in a room together on a secluded ship in the middle of space.

And then he cursed to himself. Neither of them could deny it. They could never be the same ever again.  

They were sick of and for each other, and that was just the truth.

Without thinking, Vilgax slid the cleaner half of the blanket over 8. Then he left his chambers to get himself a drink — the finest Carpaxian wine he had in his stores. He had a lot to think about and needed all the help he could get.

Eventually, XLR8 would have to wake up, go over to the bathroom mirror, look himself in the eye and figure out what to make of himself, but that was for when the post-sex clarity kicked in.

That was, if it ever could at this point. 

-End-

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