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In a dark and mysterious turn of events, the brave hero Ryusoul Red finds himself caught in the clutches of a sinister otaku with nefarious intentions. As he is subjected to an unknown ordeal involving anime, Ryusoul Red's resolve begins to falter, leading to unforeseen consequences. Ultimately, he undergoes a transformation that forever alters his fate, leaving him trapped in the realm of the otaku's fantasies.

After all this, do the otaku's whims determine Ryusoul Red's future?

Special thanks to my loyal and royal patron friends:

Asagiri

Tim Blackwell

HectorGoro

Ricky Hartono

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Leonthar

Red XIX

Marc Lange

大也 成吉

Ken K

TAKASHI FUJIMORI

Ty smith

Obviousagent

Statr

snb

Robert Terwillger

Daniel K

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In the dimly lit confines of the dingy dungeon lair, Koh, the valiant Ryusoul Red, stood broken and exhausted, his spandex-clad form drenched in sweat and bruises marring his once-heroic visage. Helmeted and barely alive, he staggered forward, disoriented and subdued after being captured by the twisted otaku.

The otaku, a genius with a mind warped by obsession, approached Koh with an unsettling adoration in his eyes. "Ah, Ryusoul Red," he cooed, his voice tinged with an unsettling mix of admiration and possessiveness. "You truly are the epitome of heroism. To have you here, as my guest, it's like a dream come true."

Koh, despite his weakened state, couldn't help but feel a pang of concern for his missing comrade, Asuna. "Where... where is Asuna?" he rasped, his voice filled with worry. "What have you done with her?"

But as the otaku's twisted intentions became clear, Koh's concern shifted to himself. "Wait... I'm the one you're after, aren't I?" he realized, his voice trembling with realization. "I'm the true target of your sick obsession."

The otaku's smile widened, his eyes gleaming with manic fervor. "Yes, Ryusoul Red," he exclaimed, his voice tinged with excitement. "You are the one I've been waiting for. The hero of heroes, the idol of idols. And now, you're all mine."

But then, the otaku's demeanor shifted, his voice taking on a chilling tone. "You see, Koh," he continued, his words dripping with malice, "I chose you not just for your heroism, but for your toned muscular form. Unlike the weak, pathetic, miserable Asuna, you embody true strength and power."

Koh's horror grew as he realized the true extent of the otaku's depravity. "You... you have the other male Ryusoulgers captive too, don't you?" he whispered, his voice trembling with fear.

The otaku chuckled darkly, his laughter echoing through the chamber like the toll of a funeral bell. "Indeed I do, Koh," he confirmed, his voice filled with sadistic glee. "The complete team is mine now, and there's nothing you can do to stop me."

As Koh struggled against the advanced neuro-interface restraining podium, the otaku approached with a sinister-looking virtual reality visor in hand. "But before we continue, my dear Ryusoul Red," the otaku said, his voice dripping with malice, "let's give you a glimpse of your new reality."

With a cruel laugh, the otaku forced the visor over Koh's heroic helmet visor, enveloping him in a world of darkness and despair. "AAAAAAHHHHHH!" Koh's agonized scream echoed through the chamber as the virtual reality visor engulfed his vision, sending waves of excruciating pain surging through his body. The brainwashing lightning bolts seared through his mind, his brain, and his muscles, each jolt more torturous than the last.

"Feel it, Koh!" the otaku taunted, relishing in the Ryusoul Red's torment. "Feel the power of your own destruction!"

Koh's screams filled the chamber as the brainwashing lightning bolts zapped his mind, brain, and muscles, causing excruciating pain beyond comprehension.

The containment chamber was bathed in an eerie glow as the VR visor enveloped Koh's field of vision. With a twisted grin on his face, the otaku monitored the control panel, ready to manipulate Koh's experience at a moment's notice. Koh stood upon the giant figure podium, his boots firmly stuck to the surface, unable to break free from the humiliating display.

A barrage of seductive images and suggestive scenes bombarded Koh's senses as the anime marathon began. The first scene depicted a group of scantily clad anime girls, their giggles and flirtatious gestures drawing Koh's attention. His heart raced as he watched, clouding his mind with desire and longing.

"Stop!" Koh gasped, his voice barely audible amidst the din of the virtual reality world. But his pleas fell on deaf ears as the otaku enjoyed his torment, relishing every moment of Koh's suffering.

But the otaku only laughed, sounding like an inescapable nightmare for Koh. "You wanted to be a hero, didn't you?" the otaku taunted, his voice dripping with malice. Well, this is what heroes get in my world."

In the second scene, bikini-clad anime characters danced and had lewd fun in the sun alongside Koh in a virtual beach party. The air was filled with arousing laughter and psychedelic music, and Koh felt a pang of libidinous longing as he watches the carefree revelry unfold before him.

"No... I can't!" Koh choked, his voice trembling with uncertainty. But Yuji's sinister laughter echoed through the chamber, a brutal memorial of the dark consumption.

As the third scene unfolded, Koh was transported to a virtual paradise filled with indulgence and excess. Anime characters lounged in opulent surroundings, indulging in lavish feasts and decadent pleasures. Koh's mouth watered as he watched, his resolve weakening with each passing moment.

The otaku leaned in closer, his eyes gleaming with sadistic delight. "You see, Koh," he whispered, his voice dripping with malice, "this is what happens when you abandon your heroic mission for the sake of selfish desires."

Koh's vision blurred as tears streamed down his face, mingling with the sweat and grime that coated his skin. He felt like he was drowning in a sea of temptation, each wave threatening to engulf him completely.

But even in the depths of his despair, a flicker of determination remained within Koh's heart. "I won't... give in..." he vowed, his words barely audible over the seductive whispers of the virtual fantasy. "I'll find a way... to resist... and defeat you... no matter... what it takes..."

The otaku's laughter echoed through the chamber, manifesting his twisted soul. "We'll see about that, Koh," he sneered, his voice dripping with contempt. But for now, enjoy the show. It's only just beginning..."

Koh's descent into madness continued unabated, his spirit battered and broken by the allure of virtual fantasy. But deep within him, a spark of defiance remained, a glimmer of hope that refused to be extinguished. As long as that spark burned, Koh vowed to fight on, no matter the cost.

The otaku's lips curled into a wicked grin, his eyes alight with sadistic glee. Dressed in a cosplay costume mimicking Koh's heroic suit, the otaku's obsession with his idol was palpable. "Ah, Koh, my dear hero," he purred, his voice dripping with malice. "You inspire me, you know. To see the world as I do, through the lens of a depraved otaku. It's a sight to behold."

Koh's heart sank as he watched the scenes unfold before him, each one more twisted and disturbing than the last. "I... This is not who I am, I will not accept this," he choked out, his voice strained with desperation.

The otaku's laughter echoed through the chamber, a chilling blizzard of cruelty. "Oh, but you must, Koh," he taunted, his tone laced with venomous amusement. "You're my muse, my inspiration. Embrace the libido within you and revel in the pleasures it offers. It's what I've always dreamed of, to share this world of depravity with you."

Koh's vision blurred as tears mingled with the sweat on his brow, his mind reeling from the onslaught of temptation and despair. "No... I refuse to accept this," he declared, his voice quivering with defiance. "I will find a way to break free from your grasp, no matter the cost."

The otaku's grin widened, a predatory gleam in his eyes. "How delightful," he remarked, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "But remember, Koh, you're not just fighting against me. You're fighting against yourself, against the very essence of who you are. And in the end, I always get what I want."

As the VR visor jolted Koh's helmet, it unleashed a barrage of anime scenes featuring depraved, curvy anime girls. Each scene was meticulously crafted to seduce and ensnare Koh's senses, making him squeal in a mixture of sensation and torment. The otaku's laughter filled the chamber, a twisted crowd of sadistic delight as he watched his idol succumb to the allure of the virtual fantasy.

In one scene, Koh found himself in a crowd of voluptuous anime girls, their seductive curves and sultry gazes drawing him in like a moth to a flame. Their voices, honeyed and intoxicating, whispered promises of pleasure and ecstasy; their every movement was a compelling invitation.

Unable to resist the temptation, Koh reached out to touch them, his fingers trembling with desire as he succumbed to their irresistible allure. The sensation was overwhelming, molesting his body violently as he lost himself in the embrace of the virtual fantasy.

In another scene, a plethora of scantily clad anime girls welcomed Koh to a virtual paradise. Their playful giggles and flirtatious gestures stirred something primal within him. He watched in a daze as they danced and frolicked before him, their movements fluid and mesmerizing, each one more captivating than the last.

Unable to tear his gaze away, Koh felt himself drawn deeper into the seductive embrace of the virtual fantasy, his senses awash with a heady mixture of desire and longing. Yuji's laughter echoed through the chamber as a brutal declaration of debauchery as he savored his idol's torment.

Koh's resistance crumbled with each passing moment, his mind and body consumed by the overwhelming tide of sensation and pleasure. He squealed in ecstasy, lost in a world of depravity and desire, his identity slipping away as he surrendered himself to the twisted whims of the otaku.

Koh found himself amidst a group of curvy, hot anime girls in the farm scene tending to the fields. They giggled and flirted as they plucked fruits and vegetables, their suggestive gestures hinting at their true intentions.

"Come help us, Koh," they cooed in unison, their voices sweet and seductive. "There's plenty of work to go around." Their curves swayed tantalizingly as they beckoned him closer, their innocent facade masking their true desires.

Koh hesitated, but the scent of their perfume, mixed with the earthy aroma of the farm, intoxicated his senses. He found himself drawn closer, unable to resist the allure of their feminine charm.

One of the girls approached him with a mischievous glint in her eyes, holding a bucket and stool. "Why don't you let us take care of you, Koh?" she suggested, her voice dripping with innuendo.

Before Koh could respond, she guided him to the stool and gestured for him to sit. With a playful smile, she positioned the bucket beneath him and began to milk him, her touch sending shivers of pleasure coursing through his body.

Koh's cheeks flushed with embarrassment as the other girls watched with amusement, their laughter filling the air. But despite his discomfort, he couldn't deny the overwhelming sensation of pleasure that coursed through him.

The otaku watched with a smirk as Koh squirmed under the girl's touch, his laughter echoing through the chamber. "Hey there, Koh," he mocked, his voice laced with arrogance. It looks like even heroes have their weak moments, huh? Don't worry, dude. I'll be sure to capture every cringy detail."

Koh's jaw clenched as he struggled against the overwhelming sensations, his pride wounded by the otaku's taunts. "You may think you've got me figured out," he growled, his voice strained with determination. "But I won't let you define who I am. I am Ryusoul Red and will never surrender to your twisted desires."

But even as Koh's body betrayed him, a flicker of defiance remained within him. Deep down, he knew that this was not who he indeed was. With a final surge of willpower, he pushed against the girl's touch, breaking free from her grasp.

Gasping for breath as he finally broke free, Koh steadied himself, his gaze unwavering. "I won't let you dictate my fate," he declared feebly as the bottle became filled with his man-milk. "I'll fight against your twisted fantasies until my last breath."

As the otaku's laughter echoed through the chamber, a surge of hellish energy crackled through the air, infusing the virtual reality visor on Koh's head with a pulsating aura of wickedness. With each twist of the dial, the torment inflicted upon Koh intensified, the scenes unfolding before him growing more grotesque and twisted with every passing moment.

Koh was immersed in a nightmarish scenario within the school gymnasium hall as the zapping brain scene unfolded. Ringed by villainous Japanese sailor school uniformed supermodels of terror, their eyes glinting with sadistic delight, Koh braced himself for the onslaught to come.

"Look at him," one of the supermodels jeered, her voice dripping with contempt. "He actually thinks he can stand against us."

"He's so cute when he tries to fight back," another chimed in, her voice filled with mock admiration. "I almost feel bad for him. Almost."

But the leader of the supermodels stepped forward, a cruel smile playing on her lips. "Don't waste your pity on him," she said, her tone icy. "He's nothing but a pet to us. And once we're done with him, we'll leash him and parade him around like the pathetic little creature he is."

Koh steeled himself despite the looming doubt about his qualities. "I'll give you a fight you won't forget!" he retorted, his voice tinged with defiance.

Another supermodel smirked. "Oh, we'll remember this alright. We'll remember the look on your face when we're done with you."

Without warning, the supermodels launched into a relentless assault, their Japanese sailor school uniform adding an eerie contrast to the brutality of their attacks. They unleashed a barrage of fighting techniques upon Koh with precision and ferocity, each move designed to inflict maximum pain and humiliation.

First, they employed powerful kicks, each blow landing with bone-crushing force as they aimed for vulnerable points on Koh's body. Then, they transitioned seamlessly into lightning-fast jabs, their fists striking with the precision of seasoned fighters.

As Koh attempted to defend himself, the supermodels unleashed a flurry of knee attacks, driving the air from his lungs and leaving him gasping for breath. With each strike, Koh felt his strength waning, his resolve faltering in the face of overwhelming opposition.

But Koh refused to be intimidated. "Bring it on!" he shouted, his voice filled with bravado. "I'll show you what a true warrior is made of!"

With a battle cry, Koh launched himself into the fray, his every movement a blur of speed and precision. But the supermodels were no slouches either, their attacks came fast and furious from all directions.

"You're nothing but a child playing dress-up!" One of the supermodels sneered, her voice filled with contempt.

But Koh was undeterred. "Maybe so," he admitted, his voice steady despite the chaos around him. "But I'll fight with everything I've got until my last breath!"

But the supermodels were not finished yet. With a sinister grin, they unleashed a series of grappling techniques, using their superior strength to pin Koh to the ground and restrict his movements. Trapped beneath their relentless assault, Koh struggled to break free, his muscles burning with exertion.

As the battle raged on, Koh's doubts began to surface. Despite his earlier resolve, he found himself questioning his own intentions. Did he truly desire defeat, or was this twisted desire merely a product of the brainwashing magic that engulfed him?

Amidst the chaos and pain, Koh's mind raced with uncertainty. He grappled with conflicting emotions, torn between his sense of duty as a hero and the strange allure of surrender. However, the overwhelming tide of violence drowned out Koh's doubts as the supermodels continued their brutal assault.

And so, as the gymnasium hall echoed with the sounds of battle, Koh's cries of pain mingled with words of self-doubt. "I... I don't know..." he gasped between ragged breaths. "Is this what I wanted? Or... or am I just... lost?"

His words were lost in the clamor of the fight, drowned out by his adversaries' merciless blows. But deep within him, a flicker of uncertainty remained—a nagging doubt that threatened to consume him whole. As the battle raged on, Koh found himself grappling not only with his opponents but also with the darkest recesses of his own soul.

As the battle raged on, Koh's determination only grew stronger, his spirit unyielding in the face of overwhelming odds. But with each blow from the supermodels, his strength began to wane, his movements becoming slower and more labored.

"I-I won't... give up..." Koh gasped, his voice barely a whisper as he struggled to stay on his feet. But it was clear that he was reaching his limit, his body battered and bruised from the relentless assault.

The gymnasium’s air hung heavy with tension, imbued with the anticipation of impending conflict. A menacing group of Japanese school-uniformed supermodels surrounded Koh, the brave Ryusoul Red, as he stood in the middle of the room. Their predatory gazes bore into him, and their sinister grins betrayed their malicious intent as they prepared to unleash their assault.

"Look at him, flailing around like a wounded animal. Pathetic," remarked one of the supermodels, her voice dripping with disdain.

"I almost feel sorry for him. Almost," chimed in another, her tone mocking and derisive.

Koh squared his shoulders, his determination flickering like a flame in the darkness. "I won't let you break me! I'll fight until my last breath!"

The first blow struck Koh like a thunderbolt, sending shockwaves of pain hammering through his body. Doubt gnawed at the edges of his resolve, threatening to engulf him in its suffocating embrace.

"Is this truly what I wanted? To be pitted against such odds?" Koh murmured, his voice tinged with uncertainty.

With each passing moment, Koh's internal struggle intensified, blurring the lines between courage and fear, determination and despair, blurring into an indistinct haze. The weight of his responsibility bore down upon him like a leaden cloak, threatening to crush him beneath its oppressive burden.

"Am I willing to sacrifice everything I stand for?" Koh wondered aloud, his words a desperate plea for clarity in chaos.

But even as doubt clouded his mind, the voices of his comrades echoed in his ears, a brutal memorial of the stakes at hand.

"I can't let them suffer alone. I have to keep fighting!" Koh's resolve hardened, and his spirit was reignited by his unwavering loyalty toward his companions.

With newfound determination, Koh hurled himself into the fray, his movements fueled by a potent mixture of fear and righteous fury. Yet, despite his valiant efforts, he found himself outmatched by his adversaries' relentless onslaught.

"I... I can't do this alone..." Koh's voice wavered, his strength faltering in the face of overwhelming opposition.

The supermodels' taunting laughter echoed through the hall, and their mocking jeers further eroded Koh's flagging resolve.

"He's just a stubborn fool, isn't he?" The girl's voice was thick with disdain.

"Perhaps we should put him out of his misery," suggested another, her tone laced with malice.

But even as Koh fought valiantly, doubt continued to gnaw at the edges of his consciousness, threatening to extinguish the flickering flame of hope within him.

"Is this the end? Have I failed my friends?" Koh's voice trembled, his heart heavy with the weight of his perceived inadequacies.

As the battle climaxed, Koh stood alone against his adversaries, his body battered and bruised, his spirit teetering on the brink of collapse.

"I... I can't give up now..." Koh's voice was but a whisper, his resolve hanging by a thread as he faced the abyss of uncertainty before him.

Ultimately, it was not the physical wounds that broke Koh's spirit but the relentless onslaught of doubt and uncertainty that threatened to engulf him. And yet, even in his darkest hour, a flicker of hope remained a beacon of light amidst the encroaching corruption. With that flicker of hope burning brightly within him, Koh closed his eyes and surrendered to the unknown, knowing that his battle was far from over.

The others joined in with mocking laughter, their voices a clamor of temptation that threatened to drown out Koh's resolve. As the scene played out before him, he felt a surge of conflicting emotions welling up inside him—shame, fear, and a perverse sense of arousal that he struggled to suppress.

"Your strength is nothing compared to our charms, Koh," another temptress whispered, her voice like silk against his skin. "You may have faced monsters, but against us, you are nothing but a helpless lamb led to the slaughter." Koh's fists clenched in frustration as he fought to maintain his composure, his mind reeling from the onslaught of temptation.

But even as he resisted, a small voice within him—the voice of doubt and despair—whispered seductively in his ear, urging him to surrender to the immorality that threatened to consume him. "Perhaps... perhaps they're right," he conceded, his voice barely a whisper. "Perhaps I am destined to fall."

The supermodels continued launching their relentless and violating assault, their bodybuilder fighting skills delivering powerful blows screaming through Koh's body. Muscular kicks, jabs, and knee attacks rained down upon him with ruthless force, each strike sending waves of agony coursing through his battered form.

Desperate to defend himself, Koh unleashed his acrobatic skills and slashed Ryusoul Sword techniques. But his efforts were futile against the overwhelming onslaught. Despite his best attempts, he could not fend off the relentless attacks, and his Ryusoul Sword shattered under the relentless barrage.

The gymnasium floor became slick with sweat and blood as Koh stumbled and faltered under the relentless assault. Bones cracked, bruises bloomed across his skin, and the air was thick with the stench of violence and despair.

The supermodels laughed cruelly through it all, their taunts echoing off the gymnasium's walls. They mocked Koh, jeering at his feeble attempts to resist their onslaught. With each blow, they seemed to revel in his suffering, delighting in his helplessness.

However, a strange combination of arousal and acceptance consumed Koh's mind amidst the confusion and suffering. Deep down, he realized that he wanted this. He wanted to be defeated, to feel the pain and torment that he had inflicted upon others. In the twisted depths of his psyche, he yearned to experience the other side of the battle, to understand the perspective of the monsters he had fought against.

And so, as the supermodels continued their brutal assault, Koh's cries of pain mingled with words of twisted acceptance. "Yes... yesss..." he gasped between ragged breaths. "This... this is what I wanted... to feel the pain... to understand..."

At that very moment, Koh's real goals were made apparent, but the clamor of the fighting around him muffled his speech. In his eagerness to gain insight, he welcomed the pain and bore it with open arms.

In the fading light of the gym's dinginess, Koh's mangled body lay sprawled on the floor, an unnerving remembrance of the brave warrior he once was. But something changed inside him—a sick and twisted drive to investigate the depths of pain at any cost.

"Your strength is but a dying flame, Koh," another temptress whispered, her voice like a serpent's hiss. "In this realm, you are powerless to resist us." Koh gritted his teeth in frustration as he fought to maintain his composure, his willpower wavering in the face of such overwhelming temptation.

Outside of the evil virtual reality anime marathon broadcast, the otaku grinned widely with sadistic pleasure as he felt the incoming Ryusoul Red’s surrender. "That's it, Koh," they crooned, their voices dripping with malice. "Embrace the otaku life. Embrace the curves of these anime girls that await your dick."

With the scene played out before him, Koh felt himself teetering on the edge of madness, his resolve crumbling like sand beneath the relentless assault of temptation. "No…," he growled, his voice a defiant snarl. "I… I refuse to submit. I will fight until my last breath… No matter how tempting these sexy anime girls are…"

Yuji noticed Koh’s peculiar choice of words and proceeded to hungrily slobberily kiss the hero’s Ryusoul Red helmet as Koh was still trapped in the virtual reality. The fat loser gropped and humped his spandex-clad toned body like a living lust target. The otaku even stripped to his perspiring undergarments in order to ferociously brush them against Koh's audacious thighs. “It is time, Koh! It is time for us to be together for all eternity!”

The otaku violently ripped the virtual reality visor from Ryusoul Red’s helmet. It should have freed him, yet Koh was still dazed and confused by the sudden removal from the gymnasium sailor-uniformed supermodel domination torture. Inside his helmet, Koh’s gasping mouth burst with saliva as he couldn’t control his emotion between hurt and anguish and also utter uncontrollable arousal. Only a dying amber of defiance left in him, wasn’t enough to give him enough strength to try to escape from the otaku’s dungeon hell.

Koh's senses were overwhelmed by impending dread as he gazed upon the ominous object before him. The pillow sheet lay on the floor, innocuous yet foreboding, its fabric seeming to ripple with otherworldly energy. Koh's heart pounded in his chest as a sense of unease washed over him, a premonition of impending horror that sent a shiver down his spine.

"What... what is this?" Koh stammered, his voice trembling with fear as he eyed the pillow sheet warily. But before he could receive an answer, the otaku stepped forward, a wicked grin spreading across his face.

"This, my dear Ryusoul Red," the otaku purred, his voice dripping with malice. This is your destiny." With a flourish of his hand, he gestured toward the pillow sheet, a vicious glint in his eyes.

Koh's eyes blazed with utterly exhausted defiance. "You're delusional if you think I'll ever submit to you," he spat, his voice thick with contempt. "I'd rather face a hundred monsters than be your lust toy!"

Yuji's voice echoed through the room with an anxious anticipation. "Oh, Ryusoul Red, I will soon have you to love and savor," he gushed, his voice betraying his sinister enthusiasm. "I can't wait to add you to my collection, to hold you close and revel in your presence."

Koh's heart raced with fear and disgust at the otaku's words, his mind reeling with horror at the thought of becoming a mere object of the otaku's depraved desires. "You'll never own me!" he shouted, his voice trembling with defiance as he fought against the relentless pull of the pillow sheet.

But the otaku's big spectacles just made his smile wider. "Oh, but I already do, Ryusoul Red," he mocked, his voice betraying a biting sense of humor. "And soon, you'll be mine in every sense of the word."

Koh's eyes widened in horror as he watched in shock as the pillow sheet started to move, its fabric bending and shifting as if it were under the control of an unknown force. "You're delusional if you think I'll ever submit to you," he spat, his voice thick with contempt. "I'd rather face a hundred monsters than be your lust toy!" He gasped, his voice tinged with desperation as he backed away in terror.

But it was too late. With a sudden lurch, the pillow sheet surged forward, enveloping Koh in its embrace. He screamed in terror as he felt himself being pulled inexorably toward its depths, his body contorting and twisting in ways he could never have imagined.

"Let me go!" Koh cried out, his voice echoing through the chamber as he struggled against the unyielding force of the pillow sheet. But his efforts were in vain, as he felt himself being drawn ever closer to his horrifying fate.

The otaku's voice cut through the chamber with unsettling eagerness. "Oh, Ryusoul Red, soon you'll be mine to cherish and enjoy," he exclaimed, his tone dripping with perverse excitement. "I can't wait to add you to my collection, to hold you close and revel in your presence."

Koh's heart raced with fear and hatred at the otaku's words, his mind reeling with horror at the thought of becoming a mere object of the otaku's depraved desires. "You'll never own me!" he shouted, his voice trembling with defiance as he fought against the relentless pull of the pillow sheet.

But the otaku's grin only widened, his eyes alight with mania. "Oh, but I already do, Ryusoul Red," he taunted, his voice tinged with cruel amusement. "And soon, you'll be mine in every sense of the word."

With a sickening squelch, Koh felt his body begin to deform, his flesh and bone contorting and stretching in unnatural ways as he was slowly but surely pulled into the two-dimensional world of the pillow sheet. He clawed desperately at the ground, his fingers digging into the cold stone floor as he fought against the relentless pull of the magical fabric.

As the cloth gradually engulfed him, Koh's body gradually flattened and distorted, causing him to scream in terror. "No, I beg you!" he pleaded, his voice dripping with anguish.

However, the otaku couldn't help but giggle, his delight intensifying with every passing second. "Oh, how sweet," he mocked, his voice tinged with a cold delight. "However, pleading is futile at this point, Ryusoul Red. In the comfort of my own room, my idol is at my fingertips, here to stay."

Nevertheless, it served no use. As time passed, Koh could feel himself sinking deeper and deeper into the abyss, his screams of horror drowned out by the thunderous thump of his heartbeat. He knew his doom was imminent when the blackness of the pillowcase completely engulfed him.

Koh saw Ryusoul Red, the once-mighty hero, reduced to a sketch on a pillowcase, ensnared in the otaku's sick fixation. The otaku could hardly contain his joy as he watched, knowing that he had won the war and could now possess his idol forever.

***

As the crushing imprisonment of the pillow sheet gradually consumed Koh's body, his once-heroic form twisted and contorted until he existed only as a two-dimensional anime drawing. His vibrant colors faded into the fabric, his once-proud stance reduced to a mere depiction of his back and rear parts, accentuated for the perverse pleasure of the otaku.

The otaku's laughter echoed through the chamber as he gazed upon his prized possession, his eyes alight with twisted delight. "Oh, Ryusoul Red, you look positively stunning," he cooed, his voice dripping with sickening adoration. "Such a perfect addition to my collection."

But Koh's eternal dialogue was one of panicked suffocation, and his muffled screams lost in the fabric that now imprisoned him. He twitched and jerked in vain, his movements feeble against the unyielding grip of the pillow sheet.

The otaku savored the feeling of triumph over his hero as he crazily clutched the life-sized comfort. Subtly, he said, "You're mine now, Ryusoul Red," his voice betraying a blend of elation and instability. "Always and permanently."

As he pressed his face against the fabric, he could almost feel Koh's presence within. The faint twitches and jerking motions beneath his touch were a hammering storm of insanity. "Oh, how delightful," he chuckled, his voice tinged with sadistic pleasure. "To think that my greatest hero is now at my mercy!"

But Koh's eternal torment continued unabated, and his muffled screams were a heartless display of his suffering. As the otaku savored his victory, he knew that he would never tire of the sight of his prized possession, forever trapped in the twisted world of his own creation.

The chamber echoed with his maniacal laughter, a chilling crowd of triumph and madness hammering through the dingyness. As the otaku basked in the glory of his conquest, he knew that he had achieved his ultimate goal: to possess his idol, body, and soul for all eternity.

The air hung heavy with the stench of sweat and anticipation. The otaku's eyes gleamed with diabolical enthusiasm as he beheld his prized possession—the Ryusoul Red body pillow. With trembling hands, he reached out and pulled it close, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

"Oh, Ryusoul Red, you're finally mine," he murmured, his voice thick with excitement. "I've dreamed of this moment for so long."

As he pressed his face against the fabric, a shiver of pleasure coursed through his body. The softness of the pillow was intoxicating, its familiar form sending waves of ecstasy coursing through his veins.

However, the otaku's desires have not yet been stated. With a violent thrust, he humped against the pillow, his movements frantic and desperate. He cared not for the world around him, lost in a haze of pleasure and delusion.

"Oh, yes!" he cried out, his voice a mixture of ecstasy and madness. "This is perfection!"

But as he continued his depraved assault, a sudden warmth spread across his groin. Panic seized him as he realized what was happening— he was wetting himself uncontrollably.

"Oh heavens, this is absolutely insane!" he screamed, his voice quivering with fear. "Not now, not like this!"

But it was too late. With a sickening squelch, his waste soaked through the pillow's fabric, staining it with its foul odor. The otaku recoiled in disgust, his mind reeling with shame and humiliation.

"What have I done?" he whispered, his voice barely audible over the sound of his own sobs. "I've defiled my most prized possession..."

But even as he lamented his actions, a twisted grin spread. "No matter," he declared, his voice filled with a newfound lust. "I'll just have to clean it up... and start again."

His mind engulfed in insanity and need, the otaku then proceeded to resume his assault on the Ryusoul Red body cushion. He was determined to possess his hero no matter what as he re-immersed himself in the blur of ecstasy.

Meanwhile, deep under the pillow, Koh let out a series of terrified cries that resounded like hell itself. With a voice that was both muted and loud, he implored, "Please... let me go!" "I don't want to be your toy!"

Unfortunately, the otaku persisted in his evil attack, thus his pleas were unheard. With a heavy heart, Koh came to the realization that there was no way out of his tragic destiny as his agony intensified.

The otaku, panting heavily and covered in perspiration and urine, stood over his cherished Ryusoul Red body cushion. An ugly smirk, a brutal manifestation of the evil in his deeds, stayed tattooed on his face despite the heavy weight of tiredness.

"Well, Ryusoul Red, it seems we're finally together," he taunted, his voice dripping with malice. "Forever bound in love, forever inseparable."

With a trembling hand, he reached out and caressed the pillow's fabric, relishing in the sensation of Ryusoul Red's form beneath his fingertips. "You're mine now," he whispered, his voice a sickening mixture of triumph and madness. "Forever and always."

But as he pressed his face against the pillow once more, a sudden wave of exhaustion washed over him, threatening to pull him into the depths of unconsciousness. Yet even in his weakened state, the otaku could not resist the urge to continue his assault.

He humped against the pillow once more with a violent thrust, his actions driven by an uncontrollable primal desire. "Oh, Ryusoul Red," he moaned, his voice thick with lust. "You're so perfect. So beautiful."

But within the confines of the pillow, Koh's frantic screams pierced the gloom, his voice a desperate plea for freedom. "Please... stop!" he cried out, his words barely audible over the sound of his own agony. "I can't take it anymore!"

But the otaku paid him no heed, lost in a haze of pleasure and delusion. With each thrust, he felt himself drawing closer to Ryusoul Red, their fates now forever intertwined in a twisted dance of love and madness.

And as Koh's cries echoed through the chamber, the otaku knew that he needed to care about any boundaries. For in the chasm of his depraved mind, there was no greater pleasure than the conquest of his greatest hero.

Within the confines of the pillow, Koh's sanity crumbled miserably. With each passing moment, he felt himself slipping further into the otaku's depravity, his screams of anguish screaming through the chamber.

"I'm trapped... I'm trapped!" he screamed, his voice tinged with madness. "There's no way out... no hope..."

Trapped within the confines of the Ryusoul Red body pillow, Koh's perception began to shift. As the relentless assault of the otaku's depravity continued, he felt a strange sense of acceptance wash over him. He no longer resisted the violation and abuse; instead, he embraced his new existence as an enticing, toned anime drawing.

With each thrust of the otaku's hips, Koh's mind descended further into madness. Yet amidst the chaos, a perverse sense of pleasure began to take hold. He relished in the sensation of his spandex-clad form being manipulated and molded to the otaku's desires, his toned muscles now a source of delight for his twisted owner.

"Yes... more," he moaned, his voice a mixture of ecstasy and madness. "I'm yours, master. Use me as you please."

As the otaku's excitement grew, so too did Koh's fervor. No longer did he lament his fate; instead, he enjoyed the pleasure of his new existence, his frantic dialogue now filled with exhilaration.

"Harder!" he cried out, his voice echoing through the chamber. "I want more! I want to please you, master!"

As the otaku's assault continued, Koh completely surrendered to the madness. In his new depraved state, there was no room for resistance or regret—only the overwhelming desire to serve his master and delight him in every way possible.

For Koh, this was his true fate—to exist solely for the pleasure of his owner, the otaku. And as he embraced his new role with zeal and excitement, he knew that there was no turning back. In the gluttony of his twisted mind, there was only the eternal dance of pleasure and madness, with the otaku as his master and Koh as his willing servant.

***

Stepping back in a pant, the otaku's perspiration mixed with the nasty stains on the Ryusoul Red body pillow, as his transgression reached the highest point. The wickedness, however, was far from finished. The trio of supermodels dressed as sailor uniforms advanced with menacing grins, their amorous eyes sparkling with glee. In their haste to satisfy their own sinister cravings, they promptly took control.

With a lascivious giggle, the first supermodel straddled the pillow, her movements sinuous and seductive. "Now it's our turn to play," she purred, her voice dripping with malice. "And we're going to have so much fun with you, Ryusoul Red."

Koh, trapped within the confines of the pillow as an anime drawing, could only watch in horror as the supermodels descended upon him. But to his surprise, a perverse sense of excitement began to stir within him. Despite the violation and degradation, a part of him craved the attention, relishing in the twisted pleasure of their touch.

As the first supermodel began her humping session, Koh's gasps of pleasure filled the chamber, his voice a mixture of ecstasy and madness. "Yes, that's it," he moaned, his body writhing beneath her. "Give me more... I want it all..."

The second supermodel wasted no time in joining the fray, her movements wild and untamed. "You're ours now, Ryusoul Red," she whispered, her voice husky with desire. "And we're going to show you just how much fun we can have together."

Koh's arousal only intensified as the second supermodel took her turn, her touch sending shivers of pleasure across his sensitive heroic body. "Harder!" he cried out, his voice echoing through the chamber. "I need more... don't hold back!"

And as the third supermodel joined in, the chamber filled with the sounds of their depraved humping session, Koh's voice rising in a crescendo of pleasure and madness. "Yes, yes, yes!" he gasped, his body trembling with excitement. "I'm yours... completely and utterly yours..."

Koh was overcome with a wave of bliss and pleasure as the session came to a peak. In spite of all that had happened to him, he couldn't help but like the sickening sensation of their touch and wished for more of it. And as the supermodels persisted in their attack, he gave in completely to the insanity, his once-heroic spirit engulfed by the impending doom.

As the supermodels' incessant harassment persisted, Koh's formerly comprehensible speech became a cacophony of meaningless babble. His sanity deteriorated with every stroke and touch, until he could no longer process sound and could only scream in a chaotic cacophony.

"Ah! Ahh! Aaaaah!" Koh's cries echoed through the chamber, his voice rising in pitch with each passing moment. But gone was the clarity, replaced instead by a frantic chorus of gibberish and unintelligible noise.

Undeterred by Koh's deteriorating state, the supermodels continued their assault with increasing fervor. With each hump, each grind, they drove him further into the depths of madness, their laughter mingling with his tortured screams.

"Ha! Hoo! Hee!" Koh's voice cracked open, a devilish combination of mirth and agony. Amidst all the mayhem, though, not a trace of the hero he had become remainedPassion had completely destroyed his mind. n.

A little shadow of Koh's old self remained while the supermodels reveled in their immorality. The madness of this crazy planet rendered the hero within useless and replaced him with an empty vessel.

***

As the depraved scene climaxed, the otaku, fueled by the dark magic of the supermodels, seized Koh's heroic Ryusoul Red soul orb in his grasp. With a triumphant grin, he held it aloft, savoring the moment of victory. The orb pulsed with a faint, flickering light, a relic to the heroism it once embodied.

Behold!" the otaku declared, his voice ringing out with heartless glee. "The ultimate prize in my collection—a soul orb of Ryusoul Red himself!"

Koh's soul globe throbbed with anguish as it fought for release from its shackles. In the center of the sphere, a hazy reflection of Ryusoul Red's heroic figure could be seen out, its spirit frantically trying to break free. Ryusoul Red's renowned spandex-clad, helmeted Sentai figure was on display in a glass case with the orb, yet the otaku's grasp was solid and immovable.

"And look!" Yuji exclaimed, gesturing to the trapped figure within the glass cabinet. "The hero himself, immortalized for all eternity in his most heroic pose!"

Ryusoul Red's unyielding spirit was on display as the image within the sphere persisted in pounding and struggling. But his efforts to get out from his imprisonment were in vain. In the otaku's warped collection of idol worship, he was bound, unable to escape.

At the same time, a crumpled mound of Koh's urine-soaked body pillow lay nearby, its surface engraved with a two-dimensional animated depiction of the once-heroic Ryusoul Red. In the confines of the pillow, Koh's spirit writhed and contorted, his life reduced to a warped representation of his past self.

Amidst the chaos, Koh's frenzied cries rang out, a desperate plea for freedom amidst the madness. "B-b-become... p-p-pillow... join... pretty... fluff... happy...?" he stuttered, his words a nonsensical babble of confusion and eagerness. But his pleas were met with only Yuji's triumphant laughter, echoing through the chamber as Koh's fate was sealed—a hero no more, trapped forever in the clutches of the depraved otaku's idol worship.

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