KidPinoy gets Slaughtered 2

 The blinding spotlights of the coliseum burned into KidPinoy’s retinas, but the pain was a distant thing compared to the agony in his soul. He strained against the monstrous grips of the demon Maal and the alien Oboye, his 5’5” frame stretched taut between them like a canvas about to tear. His famous sun-kissed skin glistened with sweat and the exertion of a battle he had thought would be like any other—until the trap had been sprung.

Before him, a massive screen broadcasted his humiliation to the entire Philippines, and on a smaller monitor just to his left, the tear-streaked face of his fiancée, Rose, stared back at him, her mouth gagged, eyes wide with terror.

"Look at him," a voice boomed, dripping with condescension. Trump Albright, the billionaire architect of this nightmare, stepped into the frame. He was a man of sharp angles and cruel smiles, dressed in a suit that cost more than the entire barangay KidPinoy had grown up in. "The great KidPinoy. The savior of Manila. The unyielding hero. And yet, here he is, helpless."

KidPinoy gritted his teeth, his 10-pack abs flexing as he tried to summon his chi, the sacred energy that had made him invincible for ten years. But where there should have been a roaring furnace of power, there was only a flickering ember. The impaling pain from Jackhammer’s mechanical intrusion still throbbed deep inside him, a violation that felt like it was scrambling his very nervous system.

"You wonder why you feel so weak, boy?" Jackhammer rumbled. The android’s face was a mask of cold steel, but his lower body was a grotesque marvel of engineering. His massive, piston-driven cock was still buried to the hilt inside KidPinoy’s unsuspecting virgin hole, vibrating with a low, punishing hum. "We found the book. We know the secret."

"The secret of the 'Chosen Hero'," Trump sneered, leaning close to the camera. "For twenty-five years, you’ve abstained. You’ve kept your body pure, your essence stored, your virginity intact. That abstinence is the lock. Your sacred chi is the key. You aren't invincible because you're a god. You're invincible because you're a virgin."

KidPinoy’s blood ran cold. No. It can’t be. He struggled, his muscles screaming, but Maal’s clawed hand clamped down on his wrist, crushing his bones, while Oboye’s slippery tentacles tightened around his ankles, spreading him impossibly wider.

"And tonight," Trump continued, his eyes gleaming with perverse delight, "we break the lock."

Jackhammer grinned, a cruel, mechanical thing. He grabbed KidPinoy by his hips, his fingers digging into the hero’s famous, armor-like obliques. "Time to pop that cherry, little 'milk bull'."

With a savage hydraulic hiss, Jackhammer retracted his hips and slammed them forward. The impact was devastating. KidPinoy’s body convulsed, a strangled scream tearing from his throat. The sheer size of the android’s cock, combined with the relentless vibration, smashed directly against his prostate—a gland that, for a man of his purity, was the epicenter of both pleasure and agony.

"Gah... stop...!" KidPinoy gasped, drool spilling from his lips. His vision swam. It wasn't just physical pain; it felt like his very soul was being milked.

"Does it hurt?" Maal taunted, his demonic voice a gravelly whisper in KidPinoy’s ear. "That’s the spot, isn't it? The center of your power. And we’re going to pulverize it."

Jackhammer didn’t let up. He began a brutal, rhythmic pistoning, each thrust slamming KidPinoy’s body down onto the thick, vibrating intrusion. The hero’s legendary endurance was useless against this specific attack. With every thrust, KidPinoy felt a surge of his chi leaving him, leaking out of the very orifice being violated.

"Look at those abs," Oboye gurgled, his alien eyes admiring the ripple of KidPinoy’s stomach. The hero’s taut, sun-kissed skin was usually impenetrable, but from the inside, the pressure was distending his belly visibly. "So hard on the outside. But on the inside? We’re turning him into a soft, ruined mess."

Two other villains, smaller ones KidPinoy had brushed aside years ago, scurried forward. They grabbed KidPinoy’s face, forcing him to look at them.

"Look at us, 'poor stupid boy'," one spat, slapping his cheek. "We’re going to make you cum until you forget your own name. We’re going to drink that sacred seed of yours."

They tore at his compression shirt, ripping the black fabric away to reveal his torso, slick with sweat and trembling with tension. They descended on his nipples, biting and sucking, sending jolts of electric sensation through him that clashed with the pain in his ass.

"Please..." KidPinoy whispered, his voice broken. "Rose... don't hurt her..."

"Rose?" Trump laughed. "She’s watching, Bien. She’s watching her hero get broken like a cheap toy."

Jackhammer increased the speed, the sound of flesh slamming against flesh echoing through the coliseum. "Cum for us, hero. Show us that Filipino potency."

The combination of the relentless physical assault on his prostate, the aphrodisiacs leaking from Oboye’s tentacles, and the psychological torture was too much. KidPinoy’s body, untouched for twenty-five years, betrayed him. His back arched violently, his toes curling.

"I'm... I'm going to..." he choked out.

"Do it!" Maal roared.

With a scream that sounded like tearing metal, KidPinoy climaxed. It wasn't a normal release. Because of his sacred nature, it was a massive, explosive eruption. Thick, gelatinous, almost luminescent white cum pumped out of his cock in thick ropes, defying gravity for a moment before splattering onto the floor.

"Marvelous," Oboye hissed, catching a glob on a tentacle and bringing it to a mouth that hadn't existed a second ago. "It’s like liquid gold. Pure life force."

KidPinoy panted, his body slumping in their grip. He felt lighter, weaker. The golden aura that usually surrounded him flickered and died.

"One down," Jackhammer said. He didn't pull out. Instead, he kept thrusting, milking the hero further. "But we’re far from done."

The villains laughed. They swarmed him. While Jackhammer continued his brutal assault from below, the others grabbed cups and bottles. They pressed them against KidPinoy’s leaking tip.

"Drink!" one shouted. "Drink the blood of the hero!"

They forced KidPinoy’s head back, pouring their own filth into his mouth, mixing it with his own tears. They groped his softening muscles, kneading his thighs, squeezing his plump balls, feeling them refill with that miraculous potency.

"How much can he make?" Trump mused, watching the data on a tablet. "His hormones are spiking. The aphrodisiac is working. Even after one orgasm, his body is desperate to replenish. It’s the abstinence curse; deny it for so long, and when it breaks, it never stops."

KidPinoy’s mind was fragmenting. He tried to think of Rose, of his duty, but every thought was overwritten by the electric shocks radiating from his prostate. He was hard again, painfully so, despite the exhaustion.

"Look at him," Maal sneered, grabbing KidPinoy’s handsome face, squeezing his cheeks until his lips puckered. "The champion of the Philippines. Look at his eyes glazing over. We’re not just fucking his body, we’re fucking his mind."

They forced him to his knees. Jackhammer stayed embedded, holding him up like a puppet. Oboye moved behind KidPinoy’s head. Several thick, wet tentacles slithered over his face.

"Open," Oboye commanded.

KidPinoy clenched his jaw, but Maal punched him in the gut, forcing the air out. Oboye’s tentacles seized the opportunity, thrusting deep into his mouth, wrapping around his tongue, and plunging down his throat. Others forced their way into his nostrils, slithering upward, bypassing the sinus cavity, seeking the brain.

"Nnghhh!!" KidPinoy gagged, his eyes rolling back. He felt a cold, chemical invasion in his mind. Memories of his training, of his childhood poverty, of Rose—everything began to warp. The horror of his situation mixed with a forced, artificial euphoria.

"That's it," Trump crooned. "Let the drugs take over. Let us rewrite your narrative."

They pulled him up, lifting his limp, pliant body. They slammed him down onto Jackhammer again, the impact shaking his entire frame. They did it repeatedly, like a jackhammer on concrete, literally using his body to jack off the machine.

"Filipino Milk Bull!" Jackhammer barked, his mechanical voice strained. "You belong to us now!"

KidPinoy spasmed. His abs, once like steel plates, were now trembling, softening under the relentless chemical assault. He felt another climax building, this one inevitable and terrifying.

"Confess!" Trump yelled, grabbing KidPinoy’s hair. "Tell the world who you really are! Tell them you’re just a pier laborer!"

KidPinoy tried to resist, but Oboye’s tentacles in his brain were rewriting his inhibitions. "I... I am..." he gasped around the tentacle in his mouth.

"Bien Regalado!" Trump finished for him. "A twenty-five-year-old nobody from the slums who got lucky! And now, he’s our whore!"

The pressure built until KidPinoy broke. He came again. This time, the volume was even more shocking. It pumped out of him, filling the cups, spilling over, coating his own stomach. The villains cheered, scooping up the thick, potent fluid, rubbing it over their own bodies, believing it granted them vitality.

"His balls are like factories!" one villain laughed, grabbing KidPinoy’s scrotum and squeezing hard. "They just keep refilling!"

They dropped him onto his back on the cold concrete. Jackhammer loomed over him, thrusting relentlessly, his mechanical cock grinding the hero into the ground. Oboye straddled his face, tentacles probing deeper, releasing more fluids that tasted like copper and insanity.

"Look at the camera, Bien," Trump ordered, holding a monitor in front of the hero’s one good eye. "Look at Rose. Tell her you love this."

KidPinoy looked. He saw Rose sobbing. He saw the confusion and heartbreak in her eyes. "Rose... I..." he began, but a tentacle spasm in his throat cut him off.

"He’s all yours, monsters," Trump signaled.

Maal, the Lord of Darkness, didn't wait. He moved to KidPinoy’s side, his clawed hand holding a jagged dagger. "I’ve waited ten years to taste a hero."

Before KidPinoy could scream, Maal slashed. Not to kill, but to maim. He gouged out KidPinoy’s left eye.

The hero arch his back, a silent shriek echoing in the coliseum. The pain was blinding, hot, and absolute. Maal popped the eye into his mouth, chewing with a wet crunch, his eyes rolling back in ecstasy. "Tastes like fear. Delicious."

"Mine," Oboye gurgled. A specialized tentacle, sharp and serrated, wrapped around KidPinoy’s tongue. With a violent jerk, it ripped the muscle from the root.

KidPinoy’s body convulsed in shock. Blood filled his mouth, choking him, but Oboye’s tentacles forced his jaw open, preventing him from drowning, keeping him alive to feel the agony.

"Beautiful," Trump noted clinically. "His regeneration is still trying to kick in, but the lack of chi is slowing it down. He’s not healing."

They dragged his broken body toward a large, industrial structure—a roasting grill, glowing red hot.

"No... please..." KidPinoy thought, unable to speak, his mind screaming in the void.

They threw him onto the grate. The smell of burning flesh filled the air. KidPinoy writhed, his skin blistering, his muscles cooking. Yet, his vitality was just enough to keep him alive, to force his cells to knit together only to be burned away again. It was an eternal loop of torment.

While he burned, they took electric shavers to him. They shaved his head, revealing the skull of the man who was once a god. They shaved his armpits, his pubic hair—stripping him of every last shred of dignity. They collected the hair in glass jars. "Souvenirs," Maal cackled.

"Enough playing," Trump said, checking his watch. "It’s time to drain the tank."

Jackhammer ripped his mechanical cock out of KidPinoy’s battered ass, the sound of air rushing in filling the void. The hero lay on the grill, twitching, his body covered in burns and blood.

Trump wheeled forward a complex medical device—a milking machine, but designed for torture. It had a catheter tipped with razor-sharp barbs.

"This," Trump explained to the camera, "will enter the urethra, go past the prostate, and clamp onto the testicular ducts. It doesn't need an erection. It just siphons. It takes everything."

He gestured to Jackhammer, who grabbed KidPinoy’s semi-hard, abused cock. Despite the pain, the drugs still coursed through him, keeping him erect.

"Welcome to the end, 'milk bull'," Jackhammer said.

Trump pushed the button. The catheter shot forward. KidPinoy felt a sharp, tearing sensation deep inside his urethra as the barbs engaged. Then, the suction started.

It wasn't a release. It was an extraction.

KidPinoy’s eyes bulged. He felt his very life, his soul, his twenty-five years of stored power, being ripped out of his balls. It was a feeling of emptiness so profound it was a pain in itself. His back arched off the grill, smoke rising from his burning skin.

"Scream for us!" Maal laughed. "Scream like the pig you are!"

Oboye wasn't finished. While the machine drained KidPinoy from the front, the alien monster produced a thick, needle-like tentacle. It forced its way into KidPinoy’s urethra from the opposite direction, jamming through the sensitive tunnel to reach the other testicle.

"Double the drainage," Oboye gloated. "We want every drop."

KidPinoy’s mind shattered. The dual assault on his manhood, the burning, the violation of his brain—it was too much. He went into a seizure. His body thrashed, but the villains held him down, watching the collection tanks fill with a glowing, golden fluid. His essence.

"Look at it," Trump whispered, staring at the fluid. "Infinite power. We’re going to be rich. We’re going to be gods."

When the machine finally clicked off, KidPinoy was a hollow shell. He lay limp, his breathing shallow, his skin gray. His muscles had lost all tone. The legendary 10-pack abs were soft, sagging.

"He’s empty," Jackhammer noted, kicking the hero in the ribs. The sound was dull, like kicking a sack of wet sand.

"Almost," Trump said. He pulled out a pair of pliers. "We need to make sure he stays dead. We need the teeth."

The villains descended again. They pried KidPinoy’s mouth open. He had no strength to resist. One by one, they pulled his teeth out. Crack. Pop. They strung them onto a necklace.

"A crown for the defeated king," Maal said, placing the necklace of bloodied teeth around his own neck.

"Now," Trump said, standing over the hero. "The final desecration."

They grabbed KidPinoy’s limbs. They didn't just break them; they ripped them. With a sickening tear, Maal ripped KidPinoy’s right arm from its socket. Oboye tore off the left leg. Jackhammer ripped the right leg. They tossed the limbs aside like trash.

KidPinoy was now just a torso and a head, bleeding out on the concrete, still twitching, his one remaining eye wide with horror and resignation.

"We own you," Trump whispered into the microphone. "Your legacy, your power, your body. It all belongs to us."

Maal moved behind KidPinoy’s head. He sank his teeth into the back of the hero's neck, right at the base of the skull. He bit down, crushing the vertebrae, sucking the remaining spinal fluid.

Then, Oboye moved to the groin. The alien opened a massive maw, filled with rows of teeth. He engulfed what was left of KidPinoy’s mangled genitals, crushing the already battered testicles with a sickening pop, sucking the last dregs of fluid from the ruined organ.

KidPinoy let out one final, muffled scream as Oboye ripped his head away from the severed neck, tearing the cock and balls off with it in a single, gruesome motion.

The monster chewed, swallowing the hero’s manhood whole.

"Finish it," Trump commanded.

Jackhammer raised a massive metal boot. He brought it down on KidPinoy’s handsome face. Once. Twice. Ten times. Until there was nothing left but gore and bone fragments.

The screen cut to the terrified face of Rose, her eyes wide, witnessing the end of the man she loved.

Trump smiled at the camera, holding up a jar of the glowing golden fluid. "The era of the Hero is over. The era of the Villains has just begun."

The villains laughed, their cheers drowning out the silence of a world that had just lost its light.