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Team Codex Superhero Peril - Part 2
Drained But Unbroken
Slate’s body hung limp in the restraints, his muscles throbbing from the relentless punishment of Kraken’s tentacles and Doc’s cruel experiments. His once-pristine grey and teal Codex suit was tattered, its energy flickering like a dying light on the pulse monitor on his neck.
Yet, despite the agony, his hazel eyes still burned with defiance. The 30-something Puerto Rican muscle adonis flexed his muscles in defiance. His superb specimen of human now partnered with technology made him an undefiable superhero. Unfortunately his weak spot was always his testicles. Now they were about to be crushed since Marcus planted the Codex implant in his nuts.
Doc tapped on his wrist-mounted device, adjusting the restraints’ tension. “You’re remarkable, Slate,” he mused, circling the captured hero like a scientist admiring his prized specimen. “Most would have given in by now. But not you. You just keep fighting.”
Kraken let out a guttural chuckle, his seven-foot-tall monstrous form looming over Slate. His serpentine tentacles coiled and uncoiled, their tips crackling with residual bioelectric energy.
“He won’t be fighting much longer,” Kraken growled. “He’s running on fumes.”
Slate lifted his head, sweat dripping down his chiseled jaw. “If you think I’m just gonna roll over and die…” He gritted his teeth. “You don’t know me at all.”
Kraken’s red eyes flashed with amusement. “Oh, I know you, Slate. I know you’re strong. That’s why I want to crush you.”
“And we will then milk your fluids dry to create super serum.” Doc said.
With lightning speed, Kraken’s thickest tentacle lashed out, wrapping around Slate’s testicled and codpiece and tightening instantly.
Slate’s broad chest compressed, his ribs straining under the monstrous grip. His Codex-enhanced body fought to resist the pressure, but the tentacle kept squeezing his nutsack.
Tighter.
And tighter.
His powerful abs flexed against the relentless constriction, but Kraken knew exactly how to apply the pressure. He adjusted his coils, shifting Slate’s body just enough to disrupt his breathing pattern, forcing his diaphragm to work against the suffocating grip.
Doc smirked, taking notes. “Ah, the classic Boa Constrictor Effect. No broken bones—just pure, methodical suffocation. Slow. Crushing. Efficient.”
Slate let out a strained grunt, his pecs twitching, his teal-lit suit dimming further as his body struggled to keep up with the oxygen loss.
Kraken smirked. “Oh, I’m just getting started.”
A second tentacle wrapped around Slate’s waist, curling over his obliques, then cinching in with brutal force.
Slate’s back arched, his core fighting the unbearable squeeze, but Kraken’s tentacles were unyielding. The more he resisted, the tighter they got.
Then came the third tentacle.
It slid between his legs before wrapping around his thighs and Codex-enhanced groin armor and into his muscle ass crack.
Slate’s hazel eyes widened as Kraken applied another calculated squeeze, targeting the very source of his strength—the core energy center embedded in his codpiece.
“Oh, this one’s important,” Kraken rumbled, his grin widening as Slate’s body trembled involuntarily. “Let’s see how much your suit can take before I drain every last drop of your energy.”
Slate growled through gritted teeth, his powerful thighs flexing as he fought against the tentacle’s unbearable constriction. But Kraken’s bio-serpentine grip had a vice-like precision, slowly compressing the very core of Slate’s strength. The crushing pressure on his codpiece was intense.
His Codex suit sparked, dimming further.
Slate let out a guttural groan, his biceps bulging as he pulled against the energy restraints—but the pressure kept building.
Kraken grinned. “Let’s milk that power of yours dry.”
The villain increased the squeeze, his tentacle throbbing against Slate’s core energy conduit.
Slate’s muscles convulsed as the final stage of the draining began.
His Codex-enhanced energy pulsed, struggling against the relentless squeeze, his body shuddering with the last reserves of his power.
Doc monitored the data on his device, his grin widening. “This is fascinating. His suit is reacting to the energy loss—it’s overloading.”
Kraken squeezed even tighter.
Slate let out a deep, guttural roar, his body arching from the sheer force of the drain.
His Codex suit short-circuited.
The teal lights flickered.
Then died completely.
Slate slumped forward, his body spent, his strength completely siphoned away.
Kraken loosened his grip, letting Slate’s motionless body hang in the tentacle restraints, his massive chest rising and falling in heavy, exhausted breaths.
Doc adjusted his glasses, approaching the unconscious hero. “A Codex warrior, drained of everything,” he mused, tapping his device. “Perfect. Now, let’s see what happens when he has nothing left.”
Kraken lifted the defeated hero, hoisting him over his broad, monstrous shoulder. “Doc, you wanted a test subject? Here’s your prize.”
As they carried Slate deeper into the hidden depths of the lair, the battle-tested hero’s mind swam in exhaustion.
His body was broken.
A few hours later around 2 am….
Slate woke up
The cold metallic surface pressed against Slate’s bare back as his limp, exhausted body was strapped onto the testing rack. His battered chest heaved, each breath slow and labored as he regained flickers of consciousness.
His arms were restrained above his head, secured by thick, reinforced clamps that buzzed with a faint electric charge. His legs were spread apart, each foot strapped down, ensuring total immobilization. The air around him was damp and sterile, filled with the low hum of machinery.
And then, he heard him.
“Ah, awake already?”
Slate’s vision was still hazy, but the silhouette of Doc loomed over him. The scientist’s thin, wiry frame was illuminated by the eerie glow of his workstation. His gloved fingers danced across the control panel beside the rack, making small, calculated adjustments.
Slate gritted his teeth, his body weak but unbroken. “Let me guess,” he rasped, his voice dry. “More experiments?”
Doc smirked, adjusting his glasses. “You already know the answer, hero.”
From the corner of his eye, Slate saw Kraken standing by, his massive form watching with satisfaction. His tentacles twitched, eager to resume their torment, but Doc waved a dismissive hand.
“No, no, Kraken. This phase is mine.”
Doc turned back to Slate, his gaze settling on the last functioning piece of the Codex suit still clinging to the hero’s body—his codpiece. Even more specific his plump testicles, still round like dangling round orbs pressed against his codpiece.
“The Codex Implant,” Doc mused, brushing his fingers over the sleek, rubberized anatomically correct covering that covered Slate’s cock and balls. “The core of your enhancements. The very thing that transforms you from an ordinary man… into something extraordinary.”
Slate tensed instinctively, feeling a surge of dread unlike anything before.
Doc’s smile widened. “But what happens when we introduce direct pain stimuli to the Codex’s most sensitive conduit?”
The clamps descended from above, gleaming metallic pincers, attached to hydraulic pistons and shock regulators. Their razor-edged grips flexed open, moving methodically toward Slate’s codpiece.
Slate pulled at his restraints, but he had nothing left. His body, his muscles, his Codex-enhanced power—all of it was gone.
The first clamp locked into place, gripping the left side of the codpiece with a sudden, unforgiving snap.
Slate inhaled sharply, his nerves flaring as an intense pulling pressure radiated through his lower abdomen.
Then came the second clamp.
It clamped onto the right side, sealing Slate’s codpiece between them, locking around the most vital, most vulnerable core of his suit’s energy system.
Slate’s entire body seized.
A deep, visceral ache erupted in his lower abdomen, sending a sharp wave of pain up his spine.
Doc observed Slate’s reaction with a clinical fascination, adjusting a dial on the control panel.
“Ah. That got your attention.”
Then, he activated the pressure cycle.
The clamps tightened, pressing inward, their mechanical grip slowly crushing the core of the Codex implant against Slate’s groin.
The pain was instantaneous.
A raw, searing fire ignited deep inside him, unlike anything he had ever felt before. His entire lower body tensed involuntarily, every muscle in his core contracting violently as the crushing force doubled.
Slate bit down hard, his teeth clenched as his nerves screamed in agony.
But Doc wasn’t finished.
“Let’s see how much more you can take.”
The clamps vibrated, sending a shockwave of pulsating pressure through the implant, grinding the metal components against Slate’s most sensitive bio-engineered tissue.
Slate jerked against his restraints, his biceps flexing, his back arching off the rack as his groin burned with an unbearable, pulsing ache. His breathing came in ragged, strained bursts, every exhale a mix of pain and pure, agonized endurance.
The Codex implant fought back, sending weak, flickering pulses of energy through his body in an attempt to regulate the unbearable compression. But without the full suit's power, it was futile—each desperate response from the implant only made the pain sharper.
Doc leaned in, watching as Slate’s massive chest rose and fell rapidly, his body convulsing from the assault.
“I wonder…” Doc mused, his voice disturbingly calm.
He reached for the next control.
The clamps twisted.
A deep, grinding pressure sent an explosive jolt of pain straight into Slate’s lower abdomen.
Slate gasped—a sharp, guttural sound escaping his lips as his hazel eyes squeezed shut. His entire body locked up, every muscle bulging, trembling, his powerful form trapped in agony.
It was unbearable.
The Codex implant was failing. The metal groaned under the relentless crush, the core systems faltering.
Slate’s vision blurred. His mind swam.
The pain was drowning him.
Doc’s voice pierced through the agony.
“This is what true weakness feels like, Slate. No strength. No power. Just pain.”
Slate’s breathing hitched, his broad chest rising and falling rapidly, his body shaking against the restraints.
Kraken watched, his grin widening. “This is the most satisfying thing I’ve ever seen.”
Doc smirked, reaching for the final dial. “Let’s push it just a bit further—”
Slate’s cock was now fully erect. His manhood throbbed and jumped around in the jolts.
“Release the cum hero,” Doc said.
“UNGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH,” Slate moaned as an orgasm mixed with the power surges and intensity of the test forced a large ejaculation. The cum dripped through he codpiece like sticky white paste. It must’ve been a pint running down his codpiece.
Kraken couldn’t help himself and with his mutant tongue licked every drop of it up. Every drop. Kraken then pulled off the codpiece and began to suck the brown latin cock.
“You fool,” Doc said. “That spunk was for the test to make serum.”
“Sorry boss,” Kraken said. “I can’t resist the cum. It strengthen’s me.”
Kraken wrapped his tentacle around each testicle and rubbed the nuts and squeezed them.
“We need to hook him to an IV to flood him with fluid. I need that cum,” Doc said.
Kraken swallowed and released Slate. He walked away and followed Doc. A tube from the restraints found its way into Slate’s vein. It would be about a hour before they could milk the muscle hero again.
“Unghhhhh,” Slate moaned. He slumped his head and prepared for the long night ahead of milking.