The Return of Ropeman

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 costume. 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 transferred 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 excruciating 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 watched the inspection with apprehensive interest. "Very good! Very good, indeed!" praised Ropeman. "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 prisoner's waist; down on the right diagonal and up and around again. The rope was tied off in a large knot just behind 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 imminent orgasm were mildly stifled 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."


Author Unknown