Dumpster #5: We didn't start the trashfire

[trashmod]

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)]

Comments

Fill: Good to the Last Drop (9/?)

[(Anonymous)]

“Steven. Steven.”

Steve didn’t want to wake up. He’d learned how to more or less sleep through the bell and the light, and none of the regular procedures required his participation, or even that he be conscious. And he was so tired.

“Please don’t,” he tried to say around the gag. They should just let him rest. He was giving them everything they wanted already. What else could they possibly expect from him?

“Steven.”

He felt hands on his face, fumbling with the gag. The leather came loose from the buckle at the back of his head, and then the rubber phallus was pulled from his mouth, trailing saliva. He pried his eyes open, anxious to see what might be disrupting the daily schedule, and saw Peggy Carter staring down at the damp, phallus-shaped gag in her hand, mouth open and eyes wide.

Steve tried to swallow despite a very dry mouth, and rasped out, “Agent Carter?”

Her eyes snapped to him, and she seemed to shake herself a little. “Good. You’re awake. We’re leaving.”

“Leaving?” Steve looked beyond Carter to see Howard Stark badgering a bewildered Private Davies into handing him the day’s charts and paperwork.

“Let’s move, son. Come on, hop to,” Stark said with a grand gesture. “Equipment off, restraints off, double time.” When Davies tried to form a protest, Stark clapped him on the shoulder and gave him a gentle push towards Steve, then stepped up to the control panel and began flipping switches.

“Steven,” Carter said gently. “Do you know where you are?”

The constant whir and click of the machines spun down to nothing even as Davies pulled the mechanical phallus out of Steve with a wet squelch.

“How did you get here?” Steve’s voice was barely a whisper. His throat was so dry.

“Yeah, hey Rogers, we’ve got to hit the road,” Stark said as he appeared at Carter’s side. “Very important SSR orders. We’ll do the chit chat later. Carter, a little help here/”

The two of them began releasing the straps from Steve’s legs as Davies fiddles with the hydraulic suction machine, tugging at various knobs and dials until Stark shoved him out of the way, muttering about amateurs.

“Private, go retrieve a uniform from Captain Rogers’ quarters,” Carter said briskly. “While you’re at it, pack up his spare uniforms and any personal effects and bring them back here.”

“He, uh… he doesn’t have quarters anymore,” Davies said. At Carter’s incredulous look, he hurried on. “He didn’t really need them, and the base has been so crowded, and--”

“Find his things and bring them here.” Carter’s voice was clipped and precise. “Or find a spare uniform, quickly. Be back here in ten minutes.”

“Yes ma’am, sir,” Davies stuttered, and hurried out of the room.

“Think he’ll squeal on us?” Stark asked as he kicked the hose from the suction machine out of his way.

“I think we shouldn’t dawdle,” Carter replied. “Steven, are you with us?”

“I’m not a captain,” Steve said, stuck on the one thing he’d picked out of the conversation.

“It’s a long story,” Carter said. “We need to get you standing.”

Once they’d removed the straps up to Steve’s waist, Steve found that his legs could barely support him, even with the rest of him still firmly held up by the remaining straps. His cock was still achingly hard and unbearably sensitive where it came into contact with his skin, making it hard to concentrate on stretching any feeling back into his extremities. His balls hung heavily between his legs, unsupported for once and throbbing with denied release. The muscles of his ass clenched against the unaccustomed emptiness as he moved, making him squirm and throwing off his balance.

When Stark released the last of the straps around Steve’s chest, Steve’s legs collapsed under him. He curled between his splayed knees, pulling frantically at his cock until a flood of semen rushed over his fingers and spattered on the floor. He stared at the small puddle, a wasted and contaminated sample now, dirtying up the freshly-scrubbed tile.

“I’m sorry,” he rasped, wiping his hand ineffectually on his thigh. He hadn’t meant to do it, not in front of Carter and Stark, when there was no scientific purpose to it, even. But now the ache in his balls had eased significantly, and he could think more clearly.

“Don’t worry about it,” Stark said quickly. “Nothing we ain’t seen before. Can you get up?”

“Of course.” With a concerted effort, Steve was able to get his feet under him and lever himself upright, though he then had to brace his hands on his knees and breathe deeply, partly from the head rush that came from standing for the first time in weeks, and partly from the pain of his still-heavy balls being jostled.

“I’ve got the spare uniform you wanted sir, ma’am.” Davies came cautiously towards Carter, bearing a stack of clothes. “No personal effects, or at least I couldn’t find any.”

“Right.” Carter shook her head. “Clean up this workspace immediately. It needs to be ready for inspection before the others get here.”

“Others?” Davies’ eyes widened. “But ma’am--”

“Hop to, Private. We haven’t got all night,” Stark snapped.

Davies scurried over to the corner to retrieve a mop and bucket. While he was busy filling his bucket with water, Carter said, sotto voce, “That ought to keep him busy, but we should hurry.”

Between bracing himself on a workbench and an occasional hand from Howard, Steve managed to wrestle his way into the uniform and skivvies the kid had brought, while Carter scrawled a note on a discarded piece of paper.

“There.” She appeared at Steve’s side just as he was buttoning his shirt. “No one can say we didn’t give the proper notifications. We ready? Steven?”

Steve looked down to see the front of his pants bulging as his hard cock pressed against the fabric. He looked back up quickly, blushing. “Ready as I’m going to be.”

Carter led the way out, chin up, walking briskly. She paused to hold out the folded note to Davies. “Private, deliver this to Colonel Hanes at the end of your watch. This place had better be shipshape by that time, I mean absolutely spotless, or he’ll know the reason why. Understood?”

“Yes ma’am,” he said, saluting sharply.

Carter led them through the hallways of the base with Steve leaning heavily on Stark’s arm. Through a thick steel door was a large garage with row after row of jeeps and trucks, with one shining Pontiac Torpedo with a stylized S as a hood ornament.

“Does this one fly?” Steve asked.

“Yeah, still working on that,” Stark muttered.

Carter glanced over the rest of the garage and, apparently satisfied that no one was observing them, popped open the drunk of the car.

“So the thing is,” Stark said as he helped Steve forward, “we need you to lay low on our way out of here. We don’t exactly have permission to take you with us.”

“You’re stealing me?” Steve pulled up short, making Stark stumble.

“Redistributing,” Peggy said crisply. “Mr. Stark is politely requesting a location transfer for a bit of technology he’s helping to develop. Get in the trunk.”

Steve looked from the open trunk to Peggy, to Stark, his sluggish mind trying to sort through the ramifications of going AWOL with these two.

“Best not to argue with her, I’ve found,” Stark said with a shrug.

Steve found himself smiling for the first time in recent memory, and that decided him. He wedged himself into the trunk, wincing as the cramped position put pressure on his still-hard cock and increasingly sensitive balls. Stark arranged a few small boxes to block Steve from view.

“You must be absolutely silent while we pass through the gates, understand?” Peggy said, leaning down into the trunk so she could just see him. “We’ll stop for a breather as soon as we reach a safe spot.”

“Carter, let’s go,” Stark hissed from somewhere near the front of the car.

The trunk closed, and Steve was left in darkness.

Re: Fill: Good to the Last Drop (9/?)

[(Anonymous)]

Rescue, YES!

Love that the unflappable Peggy Carter was shocked by what they've done to Steve (and quickly snapping herself out of it). And poor Steve, his balls so swollen and aching for release, having to jerk himself off in front of them and being so embarrassed about it. I'm continuing to adore this fill!

Re: Fill: Good to the Last Drop (9/?)

[(Anonymous)]

ahhhhh i love this