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.

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Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Steve was grateful that over the course of a few weeks, the scientists had managed to adjust the formula of the ejaculate volumizer so that he was producing semen at a steadier rate. It did mean that collection had to take place on a strict schedule, at least once an hour outside of his regular daily sessions. He never found himself in the desperate situation he’d been in that first night they tried the injection, but he did find that his balls were uncomfortably tender and swollen as each hourly session approached, and the only relief came when he submitted to the scientist’s machines and allowed himself to be made to come.

The procedure was lodged in his mind, wherever he was in his day: running doggedly around the base’s small exercise track, ignoring the ache in his ass; shoveling in a plate of scrambled eggs that never quite seemed to be enough to satisfy his new, larger appetite; shaking hands with a senator or general the SSR had brought in to show the progress of their super soldier project; or kneeling by his bed to say his prayers, and an extra rosary for Bucky. Steve knew he was never more than an hour away from being hooked up to the machines again, having his balls drained for the good of his country. He slept fitfully, even when he was exhausted after a day of coming and coming and coming until he was dry. It was hard to sleep soundly when he knew a uniformed private would come to shake him awake at five to the hour, and walk with him down to the lab.

Since they’d fine-tuned the ejaculate volumizer they used on him, they were seldom able to exhaust his ability to produce in any given session. Gone were the days of coming dry before a session was complete. However, that also meant there was more interest in keeping the collection procedure going. Steve found that his schedule contained less and less time doing anything but being hooked up to the machines. That was good, he told himself. He was providing the scientists with more of what they needed, and that helped the war effort. He should be glad to help, even if it was sometimes painful. At least they hadn’t needed to resort to the electric probe since that first time. But now, when Steve was led into the lab, a hard lump of fear settled in his throat. He had to force himself to lie still while the nurses strapped him in. There should be no reason for the desire to fight them off, to rip through the bonds and run out of the lab.

Almost every day the scientists tried out some new idea to streamline the process. Instead of the bar gag or the strap, they tried out a strange gag that was shaped like a phallus. It was meant to increase Steve’s pleasure, Dr. Keller had explained, leading to a faster orgasm. Steve just found it hard to breathe around the thing. It didn’t feel anything like having a real, living human in his mouth, like Bucky taking his pleasure. Steve didn’t complain, though. It was nice, in a way, to have something else to focus on during his lengthy collection sessions. After a few days of no results, they went back to the other gag.

They also began inserting a plug after each session, when his ass was wet and gaping. This saved time, Dr. Schroder explained, keeping his muscles stretched and ready to accommodate the machine. It did save time in preparation, though Steve found after a week or so that the plug tended to slide out after particularly vigorous sessions. They gave him a larger one to replace it, and Steve heard Dr. Mayer muttering about telling to the fabrication team they’d need to make larger sizes.

Some of their innovations were more successful than others, but Steve tried not to worry too much about which alterations would become permanent, even if they were strange or uncomfortable. His duty was to keep himself fit so he could produce as much genetic material as possible. That’s what Erskine would have wanted him to do, and now that his new body was so strong, he could stand it, no matter what they needed from him.

One day, stumbling back to his little room between sessions and the mess hall, uncertain of the time of day, Steve saw a single sheet of V-Mail set out on his bed. It was from Peggy, with a return address in Italy. The text filled less than half the page, with only a few words blocked out by the censors. He snatched it up to read.

Dear Steve,

I hope you are well, and the scientists’ experiments are not too onerous. I have heard, unofficially of course, that there may be a shift in your duties sometime in the coming weeks, I believe something to do with selling war bonds. I checked into the friend you mentioned, and I’m sorry to inform you that Sergeant Barnes’ unit met the forces of --------------- in a battle a few days ago near --------------- and the entire outfit is missing, presumed dead. I offer my heartfelt condolences. I will write again if I hear of a concrete decision regarding your assignment.

Kindly yours,
Peggy Carter

Steve sank onto his bunk, and the letter fluttered from his hand onto the floor. He stared at the blank wall across from him, and thought this would be a good time to to cry. Was he not crying because he was dehydrated? He’d have to tell the nurses he needed more water. Dehydration impeded efficient collection. He’d been affectionately scolded by Nurse Gilbert before. When he was sick, Buck was always trying to get him to drink something. He’d give Steve hell if he heard Steve wasn’t taking care of himself. Or, he would have.

“Knock knock!” Nurse Rathjen tapped a cursory knock on Steve’s open door, then stepped inside. “Aren’t you coming to the session? You’re late.”

“Right.” Steve rose to his feet and stood still, fighting off a dizzy, sick feeling.

“You don’t want to keep everyone waiting. There’s lots of very busy people who are nice enough to arrange their schedules around your needs. Come on, then.” Rathjen reached out to grab Steve’s wrist, and tugged him gently toward the hallway. She stepped on the letter on her way out, and Steve could do nothing but follow.

"Selling war bonds"?! OH MY GAWD

"Selling war bonds"... = lots of people watching him come???? :D

Oh my god they're plugging him all the time! I love it! I feel like this is leading to Steve just being strapped in to the machine like 18 hours a day, sleeping and being fed while his balls are drained

Holy shit yes - a nurse trying to feed Steve with a spoon but he's distracted cause his eyes keep rolling back in his head with pleasure so she waits until he opens his mouth to moan or whimper and shoves it in

Complete dehumanisation is so hot lol. Steve is just a cum machine at this point

Oh my GOD are they going to sell his cum???? Can they not replicate the serum and so decide to just sell his genetic material? Like different potential buyers coming in to watch the process to be sure they're getting the real deal. Checking Steve over like he's a horse they're buying - feeling him up, checking his teeth, stroking his cock and squeezing his balls to see how healthy he is, putting their fingers inside him to feel the elasticity of his anus ("go ahead ambassador, you won't believe the muscle strength!"), touching his nipples etc (cause they have to make sure the genetics they're buying are top notch).

Maybe even jerking him off while he's tied down and gagged so they can get up close and personal with the whole process and the quality of the samples. Steve basically being milked like a cow - strapped down in a stall on hands and knees, spreader bar and all, getting jerked into a bucket while he whines and drools through a gag

Holy SHIT anon the actual milking Steve like a cow thing - fucking beautiful imagery right there. Literally treating him like an animal that they are entitled to touch as they please. Steve moaning and whimpering loudly through the gag but them completely ignoring him as they would a braying cow. Complete lack of embarrassment at touching his genitals and intimate areas as though he's not even human, as though it's no different from touching his elbow. Complete lack of sexualisation in the process at all - literally they are pumping him until they get what they want, and then doing it again and again, just like if they were churning butter or something. The best part is I'm imagining Steve LOVING it cause it feels so good and it's such a relief on his poor swollen balls, but underneath it all he's embarrassed and ashamed at the way he's twitching his hips and willing them to touch him harder

Well now I'm picturing some bored intern being in charge of the fucking machine or manual milking (cause maybe they have to give him a break from the machine every now and again? Maybe it's too harsh and is wearing out his genitals idk) and literally just jerking Steve off, listening to the radio or looking at his watch waiting for lunchtime cause his wrist is getting tired. He'd know that when Steve starts making certain noises and his cock twitches that bit more and throbs in his hand he needs to get the collection jar ready, and pretty soon Steve will be squirting into the jar while the intern runs his hand down his cock, squeezing every drop out while Steve goes cross eyed

This is so spectacular, I can't wait for more!

Oh Steve. You were meant for more than this, you know.

(If you somehow integrated this line into the story I would cackle with delight.)

Holy shit anon, I'm so fucking glad this is still being posted, I'm not exaggerateing when I say this is my favourite prompt and fill ever on the trashmeme, and I thought that it would be forever a WIP when I found it - can't wait for more!!

Oh goodness, please tell me this will be continued! The subtle mention of "war bonds" is too delicious to leave hanging!

I ... don't really see how selling cum as war bonds would work? like.... little vials???? Also -- is the knowledge that Bucky is missing going to actually kick Steve into advocating for himself a bit? Or just make him more depressed?

I kind of want Steve to go on the USO tours and then go to Europe to save Bucky and just repress the hell out of all this milking.

Granted, I have no idea where a!anon intends to take the story, but I interpreted it more as milking him publicly, which people could pay to watch as evidence of "American Scientific Superiority" or something ridiculous like that - not necessarily that his actual semen is being sold off.

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Dumpster #5: We didn't start the trashfire

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