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  o    Kristen's collection                                         o
  o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o

 
  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!


