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This is the Super Hero Archive. These stories were sent to me by
friends. I did not write these stories.
Many have no author name attached. If you are the author of the
enclosed work please let me know and I’ll remedy the situation.
This story, and all the stories in this archive are meant to be
free. They where sent freely and should remain public domain.
The Return of Ropeman
By Author Unnknown
Our story thus far: Ropeman, one of Metropolis's
most arch villains, has looted the Metropolis
Scientific Institute. On the scene, Lois Lane and
Clark Kent mingle with other reporters and police.
Some pieces of rope, Ropeman's calling card, were
strewn about the museum, doubtless used to haul
away some the museum's finest pieces. Clark picks
up a length of rope and seems to casually examine
it. However, using his x-ray vision, his alter ego
Superman detects traces of rusting metal filings
within the rope fibers. Realizing that those particular
filings probably came from one of the abandoned
steel works along the river, Clark excuses himself
from the group. Kent slips into an alley, rips off his
suit to reveal the blue and red costume of
Superman! Clad in his unitard and red briefs, our
superhero takes to the air.
Now, cruising above the piers of Metropolis,
Superman makes use of his x-ray vision again to
search Ropeman's hideout.
Meanwhile: Deep within an abandoned steel
works, Ropeman busies himself in his secret
laboratory. He is average in height. His brown
tights and matching leotard cling to his lean and
muscular body as he moves from here to there,
adding ingredients to a beaker. A length of rope
winds four times around his waist as a belt. He sits
on a backed lab stool, resting one black boot on a
rung and the other on the floor. His two henchman,
similarly clad, mill about in the background.
From high above, Superman spots the lair and
descends into the laboratory. As Superman crashes
through the ceiling, Ropeman cries out,
"Superman!!" His henchmen spring into action.
Their rippling tights, however, are no match for the
Man of Steel. In minutes, Ropeman's henchmen are
littered about the laboratory floor.
Eyeing his fallen cohorts, Ropeman backs up
against the lab counter, uncertain what to do.
Superman brushes off his cape and shoulders and
takes a wide stance with his hands on his hips.
"Well, Ropeman, you look like you're at the end of
your tether!"
"You may have defeated my men, but you'll never
take me, Superman!!" With that, Ropeman made a
break for the door. Superman's super speed
allowed him to capture the villain with ease.
Grabbing Ropeman by his own rope belt,
Superman sat him down roughly onto the lab stool.
In his slouched position, Ropeman's legs were
splayed out in front of him, making his considerable
bulge jut further out. Superman held the captured
crook on the stool with one hand.
"Let's see what I can find to make your stay a little
more comfortable." Spotting a metal box labeled
"ROPE", with stands of Ropeman's own special
hemp sticking out of it, Superman decides to
dispense some poetic justice. He kicks open the
box lid and grabs some lengths with his free hand.
As he ties Ropeman's hands behind his back, the
superhero admonishes his captive: "Ironic isn't
Ropeman, that you'd be held prisoner by your own
evil devices?" Ropeman twists his arms testing the
strength of the bonds. "You think you're pretty
clever, don't you?" sneered Ropeman.
"Clever enough." he replied
Unseen by Superman, one of Ropeman's henchmen
entered the lab from a far door. He had not been
part of the couple now unconscious. Slowly he
inched his way along the floor, rousing his
comrades in crime. Ropeman spied his emissary
and gave him a signal by blinking his left eye twice.
Superman, still enjoying the thrill of his success,
takes up a long length of rope from the box. He
stands in front of Ropeman, his legs wide apart,
pulling the rope tight with his strong hands and
snapping it. Giving it slack, then snapping it,
taunting the immobilized villain. "Where should I tie
you next? Ah, Ropeman, how humiliating for you.
All tied up with your own rope. Totally defenseless.
You'll make a nice package for the police to pick
up while I return the exhibits to the museum. And
speaking of packages . . ." the Man of Steel gives
Ropeman's growing bulge a grope.
"Cut it out Superman! Isn't this humiliating enough
without tormenting me in my tights?" Ropeman was
almost pleading. Superman cupped his captive's
tighted balls with his palm, closing the grip with his
thumb over Ropeman's hardening dick. As
Ropeman tried to suppress a moan, Superman
pulled his hand back and laughed.
Superman grabbed the loose end of the rope and
swung it over his own neck, like a jock would toss
a towel. He stuck one foot out a little further from
the other, to display his own bulge and said, "Well,
you do look pretty humiliated . . . pretty de. . fens. .
." Words began to fail Superman. "I feel . . .weak .
. .dizzy. . ." The Man of Steel began to collapse, his
hand reaching out for Ropeman. As he fell to one
knee, Superman's hand traveled down the
leotarded-chest and midsection of Ropeman. Once
he was on both knees, the henchmen sprang into
action, tossing bits of rope onto the superhero.
"Feeling strange, Superman?" Ropeman had now
been freed by one of his henchmen. Poor
Superman! Confused and weakened, his muscular
body was almost immersed in a sea of rope and
more continued to pelt him. Two of the thugs took
one each of Superman's blue lycra-ed arms and
coiled lengths of rope around each of his wrists.
They held his arms tight against their tighted thighs
as their leader approached. He grabbed
Superman's chin and turned the hero's face
upward, towards his. "Take him to the chamber.
Tie his arms . . . TIGHT with my special kryptonite
rope!!"
So that was it. Kryptonite!! The villain had
somehow made the element into a fiber and woven
it into rope! Superman felt hands on his body. Felt
his power dwindling to that of a mortal man. His
hands were tied securely behind his back and he
felt apprehension about what was to happen next!!
Ropeman's henchmen bound Superman's ankles,
weakening his legs. While they cleared away
excess rope, Ropeman smiled malevolently down
at his former captor, now prisoner, then departed.
Superman mustered up some strength; rolled over
on one side, then the other. He arched his back,
stretching the folds of his briefs tightly across his
ample package. Lifting his head up, he could see
what he hoped the others could not, that he was
actually getting turned on by being in bondage.
Superman raised part of his upper torso, but one of
the henchman sat down on him, straddling his chest.
"Stop your squirming, Superman. And save your
strength -- you're going to need it!" The henchman
began wrapping a piece of the special rope around
Superman's head. The last thing he remembered
seeing was the compacted bulge of the henchman
straddling him -- then everything went black.
"Wake up, Superman." Ropeman's voice drifted
into the blackness of Superman's head. It gradually
turned to gray, then to a fuzzy whiteness as he
opened his eyes and focused. The rope around his
head had been removed. His arms were suspended
above his head, the ropes originally coiled around
his wrists were still there. Others had been added
to bind his hands together. Stretched high, high
over his head, Superman's arms were strained
almost to their muscular limit. The stretch forced his
chest out, making it appear broader than normal
and straining the lycra fabric of his coustume.
Looking down, he saw that each of his ankles had
been wrapped like his wrist, but were still unbound.
"How long do you think you can keep me here,
Ropeman?" Superman tugged futilely at his
restraints.
"Oh, long enough to finish my little experiment."
said Ropeman, twirling a length of rope. As he
approached Superman, his henchmen followed
behind their leader. The word 'experiment' sent a
pang to Superman's stomach. He had no idea how
much of this rope the evil genius had made, and it
was certainly doing the job!
"Superman, I want you to feel rope. To appreciate
its restraining qualities. Its sensual touch. Believe
me, you'll want to thank me." He gestured to his
men. Two of them went to either side of the
suspended superhero. "I could have tied you up
completely while you were unconscious, but that
would have been cruel." Superman readjusted his
stance, nervously. He could feel the smooth unitard
brush the bottom of his balls. Another gesture from
Ropeman and the two men, their crotches bulging
at the sight of Superman defenseless, knelt down.
They pulled Superman's legs to posts slightly more
than his shoulder-width apart. They began tying off
his already-roped ankles to the posts as Ropeman
spoke: "Feel the grip, Superman? Around your
ankles? Can't move them, can you? Not much!
How does that feel, hmmm???"
Superman tried to concentrate. It was difficult. The
touch of the two men was strangely erotic. Also,
their pulling of his legs caused the fabric to caress
his thighs, balls and dick in thrilling manner. 'Focus.
Focus!' Superman told himself. '...'Must focus.'
"What's this experiment, Ropeman?" demanded
Superman through gritted teeth.
"Ah that! It is a basic tenet of physics that energy
never dies, it simply changes to a different form.
Now, everyone believes that kyptonite weakens
you, but I have a theory that it only weakens certain
parts of your anatomy. Further, I theorize that the
strength in your weakened areas is actually
transfered to non-affected areas." Superman's
stomach felt as if he were in an elevator plummeting
downward. The villainous Ropeman paced back
and forth in front of him as he spoke. As his captor
turned sideways in his pacing, Superman was privy
to the villainous swelling of his crotch. Ropeman's
smooth tights and leotard hugged his basket, which
was brimming with evil delight. Superman tried to
get his mind off this sight and the sight of Yarn,
Twine and Hemp, Ropeman's well-built and tighted
assistants.
"So, what if you're right Ropeman? What could it
possibly prove? What good is your theory?"
"What good is it? WHAT GOOD IS IT?? If it
proves I'm right then it's a good thing!!" Superman
was trying to anger Ropeman, in the hope of buying
a little time, but Ropeman realized his prisoner's
plan, smiled and said: "And, if I'm wrong," here
Ropeman grabbed Superman's dick and balls in the
same manner Superman had grabbed his, "at least
my motley band will have a little fun in the process."
As the group mocked his helplessness, Superman
gritted his teeth and tossed his head back trying to
suppress the sensation of another man's hands on
his genitals.
"And how do you propose to test your little
theory?" Superman was trying to maintain some air
of authority. There was a heavy pause.
"With rope, Superman! Lots and lots of kryptonite
rope!!" Ropeman and the henchmen exploded with
riotous laughter. Gathering long coils of rope, the
three thugs stood awaiting Ropeman's orders.
"Twine, his right calf! "Hemp, his left!" The thugs
went to their craft. Superman felt the tightening of
the ropes as they went round and round his calves
and knees, then the two ropes were joined, pulled
tight, tighter. They stepped back to admire their
work.
"Yarn," said Ropeman to his third cohort, "his
chest." This was an honor. Yarn went behind
Superman and ran a length of rope around the
waist of the superhero. Stepping in front so he
could watch the expression of the captive, Yarn
began wrapping the rope around and around,
higher and higher, tighter and tighter around the
massive, muscular chest of Superman.
Superman looked at him imploringly!! He began to
fear that Ropeman's theory was correct. He could
feel strength escaping the bound areas, yet the
unbound areas felt strong. And his crotch was
feeling VERY strong indeed. In fact, Superman's
growing cock was no longer a secret. Below the
rope around his waist, his cock was bulging out and
up, at a left angle. He could feel it move along the
cool, clingy interior of his tights. He gritted his teeth
trying to deny the sensation. This amused his
captors!!!
"You'll like this next part Superman!! Twine! Yarn!
His arms!!" Rope was lashed about his arms. He
could feel it tightening, squeezing his strength to
other regions. His thighs and midsection were
pulsing with power. It was invigorating. Shockingly
invigorating, too, was the sense of helplessness and
the sensation of being restrained.
"And now, the best part!" cooed Ropeman. "His
thighs, boys!! Sloow-ly. Very slowly." On either
side, henchmen coiled lengths of rope, one, twice,
thrice, four times around the meaty, powerful thighs
of our superhero, then tied them off. "I want you to
enjoy every excruiating delight of this experiment,
Superman!" said Ropeman as his minions worked.
Superman's breath was becoming more rapid. His
roped chest rose and fell. "How do you feel,
Superman? Not so super, I'll wager. Let me check
those thigh ropes." Ropeman approached
Superman and inserted a finger between the coarse
ropes and smooth fabric of his prisoner's tights.
"Hmmm," he said wiggling the finger, "that's
acceptable."
Superman's mind a was whirl of physical
sensations. Ropeman was right! The kryptonite
ropes were forcing his strength into his dick and
balls, and it was becoming a serious battle to
control his now rock hard prick. Looking down, he
realized the tightness of the ropes around his waist
and thighs made his crotch stick out still further.
The sight and feel of Ropeman touching him
through the ropes was unnerving. '. . .Got to. .
.aughhh. . .hold on.' thought Superman.
Ropeman and his gang were beside themselves
with glee. "What now, Ropeman? What now?"
asked the gang. "Now boys, the coup de grace!
Twine, fetch me the special pieces! Hemp, some
normal rope! Yarn . . . SCISSORS!!" The three
scampered off. Ropeman approached the torqued
Superman. "Thought you had me didn't you? You
enjoyed trying to humiliate me, didn't you,
Superman? Well, the tights are on the other leg
now, aren't they?!" Superman rolled his head,
closing his eyes against the strain. It would take
every ounce of his concentration to deny Ropeman
the satisfaction of humiliating him. 'At least,' thought
Superman, 'I still have my powers of
concentration.'
The tighted trio returned with the items. "First, the
scissors. Get rid of those red briefs!" Superman
had a moment of panic. 'Oh NO!' he thought.
"Come ON, Ropeman!" he said as Yarn began
cutting off the briefs. "You can't . . . do this!"
"I can and I am!" replied Ropeman, reaching up
and tearing the half-cut briefs off Superman. Minus
the briefs, Superman's bulging mountain of balls and
cock were blatantly obvious! Whoops of delight
came from the group. Superman reddened with
shame.
"Let's see the other items." demanded Ropeman.
He examined a small bit of rope, not much thicker
than twine, really, that was dotted with walnut-sized
knots. Next he fingered a long coil of rope the
same size of the ones tightly binding our erect hero.
This rope, like the twine, had large knots spaced
evenly about it. Superman wathced the inspection
with apprehensive interest. "Very good! Very
good, indeed!" praised Roepman. "Hemp, you
know what to do."
With that, Hemp worked the large knotted rope
into the ropes around Superman's waist. Tying it
off, he then pulled it down, down into the diagonal
line between Superman's left testicle and upper
thigh. He then pushed the rope behind Superman,
bring it up across the line of his butt crack. The evil
henchman pulled the rope tight, forcing the knots
against one side of Superman's ball sac and slightly
into his butt crack. Hemp continued his work,
wrapping the rope around his prisioner's waist;
down on the right diagonal and up and around
again. The rope was tied off in a large knot just
beheind Superman's bulging, blue-lycra wrapped
balls..The tightness of the rope coupled with the
sensation of the knots was making Superman's
head swim. He thought Ropeman had made a fatal
error. If the kryptonite rope touched his genitals, it
would surely negate his erection. However, the
sensation was making his dick throb! Superman
furrowed his brows in confusion.
"That's regular rope, Superman. Knotted for your
pleasure!! Yarn, could you please readjust our
captive? I'd like to see his dick straight up at twelve
noon." Yarn obliged. His nimble fingers pulled at
the lycra and pushed the pulsing penis of Superman
straight up in his tights. Superman involuntarily
moved his hips in towards Yarn's touch. He quickly
stopped himself. In spite of the sensation,
Superman managed to hold his own. He just
couldn't let them make him come!!
"Hemp! Our prisoner looks a little tense. Why don't
you give him a rope massage?" Hemp gripped the
knotted harness he had placed around Superman
and began pulling it, pushing it, forcing the knots to
randomly touch Superman's genitals.
"AAAAhhhhayyyy!" moaned Superman.
"Now Twine, his dick!"
"No, no! Ropeman, PLEASE! You can't take
advantage of me in my tights. It's an unwritten
rule!!"
"And one you were willing to break, Man of
Steel!!" Ropeman, himself, gripped Superman's
dick at the word "steel." "It's futile to resist,
Superman. One way or another, you will come. I
will defeat you."
"Never. NEVER, Ropeman!" Superman twisted as
much as he could, trying vainly to free himself. He
focused intensely and, despite the pleasurable
stroking of Twine, was successfully refusing to
come.
"You're bulging out of control Superman! You
know you want to explode! Soon, very soon, you
won't be able to hold back!! A gesture from
Ropeman and Twine and Hemp did their bit
together, one with the rope massage from behind,
the other pumping his dick.
Superman's resistance was getting low. His body,
bound by the kryptonite ropes was writhing, trying
to resist the inevitable. Trying, and succeeding.
Ropeman appeared only minorly vexed. With a
gesture of his hand, Yarn took the knotted coil of
twine. His wicked glaze penetrated Superman's
steel blue eyes, sending terror to the pit of his
stomach. As Yarn looped the twine in front of
Superman's wincing face, Ropeman said: "This is
the kryptonite rope, Superman. Smaller, of course,
but still effective. If my calculations are correct," --
"and they always are!" added Yarn -- your
concentration will be shot. . ." Yarn placed the loop
over Superman's head and pulled the knotted twine
tightly into Superman's gaping mouth. "Your
concentration will be shot, but you will remain
conscious to feel the exquisite delight of my victory
over you!! As he spoke, Yarn wound the twine
round and round Superman's mouth. The effects of
the twine gag began to take effect. Superman's will
was caving!! His body pitched forward and back at
the hands of his tormentors, moans of his immient
orgasm were mildly stiffled by the twine gag.
The boys stepped up their pace. Superman could
take it no longer! "Come on Superman! Give it up!"
taunted Ropeman. "You can't escape this
humiliation any longer. You must submit . . . TO
ME!!! HAHAHAHAHA!" With a great heaving
pitch, Superman came and came and came -- his
body twitching in its bondage, his voice a primal,
defeated scream!!!
Nearly unconscious, his head drooping down,
Superman was spent. Yarn grabbed a handful of
the superhero's hair and pulled his head back.
Ropeman looked directly into Superman's eyes. "A
success, wouldn't you agree, Superman? Hmmm. .
.The mind reels with the infinity of experiments one
could perform on you. Yes!! Yes. Boys, take this
guinea pig to his cage, while I conjure up another
experiment. You may play him if you wish."
END!