hydratrashmeme | Dumpster #5: We didn't start the trashfire

Dumpster #5: We didn't start the trashfire

Welcome to the latest, greatest, scummiest iteration of

hydratrashmeme. Come on in and please check your sense of shame at the door.

Rules in brief: Don't be a jerk except to fictional characters. Warn if you want, but read at your own risk, because this is emphatically not a safe space. Link your fills on the fill post. Unprompted fills: make a prompt or a header comment and reply to it with the full text. Continuations of fills from earlier rounds: just make sure you link in both places.

What's on-topic: Filthy and perverted twists on all the quality whump served up by Cap: Winter Soldier. Noncon, aftermath, uncomfortably sexualized violence, mind control, inappropriate uses of Bucky Barnes' metal arm, bad guys doing dirtybadwrong things to your faves.
What's off-topic: a/b/o, D/s-verse, soulbonds, mundane AUs, shippy/romanticized noncon, MCU heroes repurposed into OOC or edgydark delivery vehicles for your fave's suffering. If you've got a prompt for one of those burning a hole in your brain, head on over to

mcu_trash.

[Rules in full] [Round 1] [Round 2] [Round 3] [Round 4] [Fill post] [Chatter post] [hydratrashmeme Pinboard archive] [Round 5 in flat view (comments in non-threaded chronological order, most recent last)]

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Steve knew he had to be in a dream, because everything around him was drained of color, the way it had always been before Erskine’s serum had turned the world sharp with more hues than Steve knew could exist. There were lights flashing in his eyes-- stage lights?-- and he couldn’t tell what lay beyond them. He looked down to discover that he was bound to the metal exam table, strapped down with his legs spread wide in stirrups. The machines were already beginning to work him over, thrusting into his slicked ass and suctioning around his hard cock.

Pleasure rushed through Steve, erasing the discomfort of the restraints. He couldn’t hold back a guttural moan. To his surprise, the moan echoed back at him, as if amplified a hundred times. On the heels of that sound came a wave of applause. Steve could feel himself blush, but nothing could stop the grunts and moans that escaped him as the machines did their work.

“Ladies and gentlemen, isn’t this one a fine specimen?”

Steven turned his head to see Howard Stark, dressed in a sharp suit and a top hat like a ringmaster’s, standing in front of a microphone. Beyond him, Steve recognized the exhibition hall of the Stark Expo. The floor was packed with a cheering audience, some eating peanuts or popcorn, some simply staring at Steve with the expressions of children watching an exotic animal at the zoo.

“The super soldier of the future! Now sure, you might think he’d be off fighting old Adolph or protecting our men at the front, but no, folks. This is all he’s good for. What do you think, shall we see how much he can take?”

The crowd roared their approval. Steven gasped as the machines sped up, thrusting into him and milking his cock at a punishing speed. He looked out at the audience, who kept up their clapping and cheering. Towards the front of the crowd, Steve caught sight of Bucky. He wore a sly grin and his Army uniform with his hat at a jaunty angle, just as Steve had seen him last. The woman holding Bucky’s arm tugged at his sleeve, and Bucky leaned down to listen. Steven saw with a start that it was the dark-haired nurse. She pointed up at the stage, at Steve, and said something into Bucky’s ear. They both laughed.

The machine in Steve’s ass began to vibrate then, jolting Steve’s awareness back to his body. He shouted, and heard the sound echo back at him, followed by more cheering. The pleasure mingled with pain as Steve squirmed in his restraints. He wanted to come, needed to come, but pressure just kept building, coiling inside him like an over-tightened spring.

The machines increased their speed again, and an agonized shout escaped Steve. Howard Stark, saying something into his microphone, paid Steve no mind. Steve’s cock, his balls felt as if they might burst. This was too much, was not what he’s signed up for, couldn’t be why Erskine had recruited him. “Stop,” he cried, and looked out to the crowd to see Bucky and the nurse still laughing. “Stop!”

Steve sat bolt upright in his bunk. The grey, featureless walls of his tiny room and the green, standard-issue blanket reassured him he was back in the waking world. It took Steve another moment to realize that the pain had followed him. His balls ached fiercely, and he was fully hard, his erection straining at the front of his boxers.

He reached down to feel, then pulled his hand away with a hiss of pain. His balls were swollen and hot to the touch, throbbing relentlessly with Steve’s pulse. Steve gripped his teeth and eased a hand inside his shorts to grip his shaft. Surely this was a lingering effect from the dream. If he could just make himself come--but the first stroke jostled his tender sack, and he doubled over with pain.

Then Steve remembered the injection that Dr. Keller had given him last night. It was supposed to “aid in material collection,” though he hadn’t explained exactly how. He had mentioned there might be some discomfort, and to notify the medical staff immediately if he noticed anything unusual. Steve figured this counted. He’d learned his lesson after the last time Stark admonished him for not speaking up.

Moving gingerly, Steve got out of bed and put on his uniform. Even the slight compression of his balls in his pants brought tears to his eyes, and he had to hold still and breathe until the pain settled down to a barely manageable ache. He shuffled awkwardly down the hall, keeping his legs as far apart as possible, to report to the lab.

Is the nurse selling his semen to hydra or something??? :o Loving this

If you're looking for ideas for the next chapter, I have a very dirty vision of poor Steve with balls so swollen he can barely walk. Perhaps they're so heavy that the scientists are afraid to allow them to just hang, as it might damage the tissue, so when steve isn't sleeping or strapped to a table being milked he's shuffling along with his big, sensitive balls resting on a little stool with wheels that he pulls along between his legs. The whole semen collection thing completely taking over Steve's life, and everyone in the military facility where he's staying knows it and it becomes a normal thing. Going to the mess for food and everyone can see the poor guy shuffling in with the little table between his legs and being completely used to it.

(NA) Oh god, that image is going to stay with me for a while (in a very good way!)

As soon as the purring engine of the Pontiac started up, Steve knew he was in trouble. The vibrations travelled through his body, and his attention was drawn unwillingly to his tender genitals. The scientists had eliminated the vibrating feature of the mechanical phallus weeks ago, after testing determined it had no discernable impact on collection efficiency. That didn’t mean it wasn’t pleasurable.

Steve pushed his face into his shoulder to stifle a groan. It had been so long since he’d gone for more than a few minutes without coming, and he hadn’t forgotten Dr. Keller’s dire warnings about the possibility of permanent damage if his balls weren’t drained on a strict schedule.

He cupped himself through the borrowed uniform pants and nearly moaned with relief. He’d have to take care of this himself, without any mechanical intervention. Perhaps if he did enough to empty his balls, he wouldn’t need to do it again for a while, and could hold out until they got somewhere private. Though Carter had already seen him hooked up to the machines, Steve didn’t want to impose on her any further.

Moving as quickly as he could, Steve turned so that his back was to the opening of the trunk, then unbuttoned his uniform pants and wriggled around until he could shove them down along with his skivvies. Once his hand was on his bare cock, however, he stalled. All of this had become so automatic in the lab, he wasn’t certain he could do it on his own. He closed his eyes and tried to imagine himself back there: the flat colors under the harsh lighting; the ozone and oil smell of machinery; the stale taste of recirculated air; the pressure of the leather straps against hist skin; the gentle rocking as the mechanical phallus thrust into him, never quite leaving his body; the gentle fullness of the gag filling his mouth; the delicious friction of the machine squeezing his cock. He bit back a startled gasp as he spurted over his hand, pumping out enough spunk to run down his fingers and pool on the floor of the trunk.

Steve couldn’t see in the complete darkness of the confined space, but he could well imagine how he must look: pants around his knees, desperately jerking himself off not fifteen minutes after he’d already come. He could feel heat rising in his cheeks, shame creeping in where he hadn’t felt it so keenly in weeks, maybe months. That didn’t mean his hand wasn’t already stroking his cock again.

Steve’s hand stilled on his cock as he heard voices-- perhaps they were passing through a checkpoint? He wasn’t certain how much longer they would leave him in the trunk, so he would have to make the most of this opportunity to relieve the pressure. His cock had barely hardened at all, which shouldn’t have been surprising given the near-constant stimulation he was used to. A few slow strokes had him teetering on the edge again. The car rumbled back to life, sending stronger vibrations through Steve’s body, and he spilled into his hand again.

He lost track of how many times he brought himself to climax during the drive, but his balls still felt swollen and tender, as if he’d made no progress at all in solving his overproduction problem. No matter how efficiently he tried to come, his natural abilities were no match for the technological capabilities of the setup the SSR had devised.

At last, the car eased to a stop, and the engine fell silent. At the sound of footsteps on gravel, Steve frantically pulled his pants back up and buttoned them. He shifted, turning a bit so he could see what was happening, but hopefully still blocking the cooling puddle of semen from view, and wiped his hand hastily on his pant leg.

Then came a jangle and a creak, and Stark was squinting down at him in the pale light of the moon. “You ok, Rogers?” He wrinkled his nose. “What’s that--” His eyes widened in realization. “Oh. You need a rag or something?” he asked as he lifted the crates out of the way to let Steve clamber out.

“It’s fine,” Steve said, glad the low light hid most of his blush. “Any trouble getting us out?”

“Uh, no.” Stark gave the inside of the trunk a quick glance, then slammed it shut. “And no followers, either.”

Steve looked up and down the road, a tree-lined blacktop expanse with no buildings in sight. He wasn’t sure he’d ever been so far from civilization. The crisp fall air swirled around them, carrying dry leaves in little eddies along the road and, Steve hoped, blowing away any lingering smell of sex.

“We’re headed for a private airfield 40 miles north of here,” Carter explained as she shifted some gear around in the back seat of the car. Steve’s eyes widened as he realized that would mean being confined in a car with her for an hour or more. He glanced at Stark, who looked back at him and sighed.

Then Stark clasped his hands behind his back to hide his fidgeting. “Ms. Carter, I’m starting to think you shouldn’t come along.”

“The hell I won’t.” She whirled on Stark, hands on her hips. “Were you planning to leave me on the side of the road here?”

“It’s not like that,” Stark muttered. “I just don’t want to trip to get uncomfortable.”

“Am I taking up too much room in your vehicle?” The venom in her voice made Steve flinch, and he knew he couldn’t let Howard take all the blame for what he was trying to do.

“Agent Carter… It’s my fault,” Steve said, and faced the full force of her suspicious glare. “I’m… That is, I’ve…” He clenched his fists at his side to keep himself from reaching again for his dick, now aching in the too-tight confines of his pants.

“Listen.” Stark stepped closer to Carter, lowering his voice. “They’ve been pumping him full of experimental drugs for weeks now, and they’ve got him on a strict schedule. To make sure he doesn’t hurt himself, he may have to, uh, produce some samples during the trip.”

“Oh.” Carter’s glare subsided into a thoughtful silence. “I see. Well, it’s no worse that what I’ve seen before. My sensibilities are not offended.” Then she looked at Steve. “Though, Captain Rogers, if you’d rather have the privacy--”

“It’s fine, Agent Carter.” It wasn’t fine, of course, but Steve didn’t see an alternative. They certainly couldn’t leave her here alone in the middle of nowhere. And she was right, after all. She and Stark had seen him in the lab more than once, naked and trussed up like a Christmas goose, so a little discreet relief shouldn’t be too much of a violation of Carter’s dignity. “It won’t be a problem.”

“Suit yourself.” Carter wrenched open the door of the car and gestured inside. “We had best get moving.”

I'm living for Steve's shame at having to masturbate in front of Peggy...

i love how steve has been conditioned to come only under the circumstances of the lab environment... and the possible ramifications of that when he's with peggy... who has an awfully close resemblance to nurse rathjen...

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Dumpster #5: We didn't start the trashfire

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