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Team Augment Superhero Peril
By: Arthur Hero /Jobbercomics.com
Vern’s Muscle Edging Part 2
The sound hit first.
A dull, echoing thud against wet concrete.
Vern’s body bounced once—then didn’t get back up. The muscles of the ripped hero just flexed as he was on the floor.
For a moment, the chamber was still except for the slow drip of water from the ceiling and Vern’s uneven breathing, sharp and shallow.
Then came the footsteps.
Carnisurge didn’t rush him. He approached with measured certainty, like the outcome had already been decided.
Vern tried to push himself up. His arms trembled violently beneath him, muscles locking, then giving out. His vision blurred at the edges as darkness crept inward.
He barely made it to one knee.
That was when Carnisurge grabbed him.
Not a strike. A grab.
One arm hooked under Vern’s shoulder, the other locked across his torso, and with almost no effort Carnisurge hauled him upright like dead weight. Vern’s body didn’t resist. It couldn’t.
Carnisurge adjusted his grip, tightening, then lifted. He squeezed the juicy plump green latex codpiece. He could feel the throbbing of the hot, hard erect cock in his metallic gloved hand.
Vern’s boots left the ground completely as the villain pulled him into a crushing hold, while holding the hero’s tight testicles. Vern’s chest forced open, his body suspended entirely by control.
Vern tried to swing back. It was slow. Weak.
Carnisurge didn’t even react. He tightened the hold on the codpiece, absorbed the motion, then shifted and drove Vern down hard onto the concrete.
The impact echoed.
Vern didn’t rise this time.
Carnisurge stepped on him, dragging him back up before he could settle. The hold changed—one arm sliding lower, the other locking higher—and Carnisurge turned his hips, pulling Vern off balance and into another position. This time slamming Vern’s body over his spiked knee cap. This cut open Vern’s suit and blood began to drip from the slash marks.
Vern’s boots wiggled weakly in the air as his body was pressed against the jagged knee cap.
No resistance.
Carnisurge pivoted and forced him forward, folding him down and holding him there just above the ground, suspended and controlled entirely by leverage. Vern’s body reacted on instinct. Muscles tensed, strained, tried to fire—but there was no strength behind it. Just reflex.
Carnisurge dropped him. Hard.
Before Vern could recover, Carnisurge was already on him again—grabbing, dragging, pulling him upright into another hold, tighter and closer this time, locking him in from behind. Next Carnisurge pulled out a spiked melee weapon and began swinging it into Vern’s abs, pecs, shoulders, thighs. All over.
Vern’s head tilted slightly, his breath uneven, his body trying to respond but failing.
Carnisurge adjusted again, subtle and practiced, neutralizing even the smallest movement. Vern’s body shifted with each correction like it belonged to someone else.
Then Carnisurge lifted him again. Slowly. Inevitably.
Vern’s arms hung. His legs didn’t engage. For a moment, he didn’t even struggle.
Carnisurge held him there, hand gripped again on the codpiece. This time he held the testicles that jut out like two green latex orbs. He squeezed them repeatedly for about ten minutes. Each twist just causes pain. The plump fertile testicles were squeezed like tangerines. Vern was suspended, then repositioned him again in the cock grab hold. Carnisurge dragged him sideways, rotating him, never releasing control. Each movement placed Vern exactly where Carnisurge wanted him and kept him there. Each move just focuses on his testicles. By now there were slash marks that cut into his suit. Areas of his testicles and cock rod exposed among the slash marks. Blood, pre cum and sweat mixed into a sauce that Carnisurge wanted to taste. He began to take advantage of the fact that Vern was horny from the serum. He rubbed Vern’s cock until he unloaded and busted a nut.
“I didn’t say you could nut yet,” Carnisurge said. “Bad muscle pup.”
Carnisurge went in and twisted the testicles harder. He must’ve ruptured some blood vessels because Vern was screaming.
“Ahhhhhhhhhhhh. Stoppppppp. My balls!” Vern screamed.
Vern hit one knee.
Not by choice.
Carnisurge forced him into it and held him there—neither letting him stand nor collapse.
Vern tried to push up. His arms shook violently as he braced against the ground. For a fraction of a second, it looked like he might rise.
Carnisurge grabbed the testicles again and tightened the hold.
Vern’s effort collapsed instantly.
His arm buckled. His body dipped forward.
Carnisurge pulled him back up again.
Another hold. Another testicle grab.
Another position. Another crotch claw. It was relentless.
This time Carnisurge stepped around him, maintaining constant contact, rotating him backward and controlling his center completely.
Then another lift.
Vern’s feet left the ground again. His body offered nothing in return.
Carnisurge held him from behind, just long enough for the moment to linger, then lowered him slightly—only to snap him into another controlled hold.
Each movement was seamless. Practiced.
Vern’s body twitched faintly. His arms hung. His breathing was shallow and uneven. His head dipped forward, struggling to stay upright. Vern could feel Carnisurge dry jumping on his muscle hard glutes.
Carnisurge pulled him in hard from his waist.
Vern’s back arched slightly under the pressure, a strained reaction passing through him without direction or strength.
He tried to respond. Tried to move.
Nothing followed.
Every attempt triggered another adjustment. Another tightening. Another shift that left him more contained than before.
A low sound escaped him. Not loud. Just effort.
Carnisurge leaned in slightly and locked the hold.
Then paused.
Held him there. Carnisurge’s mutant cock was rubbing between Vern’s muscle butt cheeks.
Vern’s arms dropped completely. Not by choice. They simply stopped responding.
His head dipped forward.
He didn’t lift it again.
Carnisurge adjusted once more, testing the hold, refining it. Carnisurge used his razor like claws and ripped open the back of Vern’s suit. The rock hard glutes exposed to the air. Carnisurge slid his hard cock deep into Vern. Vern’s tight hold could barely take it. Carnisurge thrust and humped aggressively. Vern began to cum uncontrollably.
“Take it hero!” Carnisurge said.
Carnisurge clamped Vern’s balls as he humped the hero. His claws ripping into the testicles at the same time. He poked his fingers into the meaty nuts to try to pull onto the Augment piece that powered Vern. Right there, he could feel the small nodules that connected to the hero's neurological system.
He pressed on them deep into Vern's testicles.
Vern began to convulse as his body went into shock. This time faster.
Rougher.
He wrenched Vern sideways, dragged him off balance, and snapped him into another hold, tighter than before. Vern’s body jolted, then sagged again.
“Maintain levels. Don’t break him.” Doc’s voice cut across the chamber. "Do not rupture his Augment cores."
Carnisurge didn’t respond.
He drilled his finger again into the bloody nuts. Vern’s body reacted sharply, then sagged again, weaker.
“Hold position.” Doc said. "We need his testicles joined with his Augment cores. They produce his super spunk you bloody fool!"
No response.
Carnisurge licked Vern's ear and then said.
"The boss saved your nuts. This wasn't half of what I was going to do to you. I was gonna eat your nuts for lunch."
Carnisurge dropped Vern on the floor. Vern shook violently and held his balls.
Doc stepped forward.
“That’s enough.” Doc said.
Carnisurge kicked the hero in the abs.
"You were ballbusted! Milking time." Carnisurge said.
Vern let out a giant scream and then passed out.
To be continued…
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