Reuploading this story that has been lost to time. It was one of two stories I wrote revolving around a world of superheroes that had been usurped by a league of super women)
“Here at the facility of heroic recycling, we believe in preserving our society’s most rapidly diminishing resource: passionate rebellion,” Stacey, manager of the Male Strength Recycling clinic said. She lead the all-woman group of investors, federal and corporate, through the hallway toward the “hardhat rooms.”
Along the way the group passed by many company produced motivational posters. Each poster displayed a proud, brave male superhero posing. Each picture was paired with a bright coloured picture of the superhero being wrestled into submission, or straining and struggling under bondage. The emotions on the defeated superheroes were heavily detailed and the focused on in each picture: the tensing of their muscles, the agony, the breaking of their spirits. Each picture was taken right at the moment when their rebellion was highest and most desperate, and each hero was realizing that defeat was certain.
Stacey lead the tour group into the factory. Behind super hard glass windows was the assembly line of what appeared to be human-shape cocoons being carried on hooks. There were two hook lines: one taking still and unmoving cocoons into a separate room, and one carrying struggling and squirming cocoons back into this building. The tourists all watched the struggling cocoons with glee, knowing very well what was inside them.
Stacey, smiling brightly, began speaking again.
“Once upon a time, merely twenty years ago, in fact, society was “protected” by a very archaic system. Powerful men known as “superheroes” used their powers to battle the powers that be. However, one day the Winn League, a legion of mighty villainesses capable of impossible deeds battled the “heroes” of the world and won.
We enslaved the heroes. We publically humiliated them and forced them into becoming our tools. We raped and seduced almost all of them, and those we could not seduce we simply imprisoned and continue to use for our own pleasure to this day. We bent the minds of society until there was no one left to oppose our rule. All hail the WINN LEAGUE!”
There was furious applause. Stacey chuckled to herself before continuing.
“There is a downside to such an efficient crushing of our enemies, however. That resistance we are so quick to trample beneath our feet is, nowadays, such a rare and precious commodity. These video clips will help should help demonstrate my point!”
Stacey brought the group to a flat screen television set and pressed her clicker. The TV turned on and played a video clip.
The audience member recognized the subject of the video: a superhero famous for resisting the Winn League for twelve years before being captured. The video was a recording of his torture at the league’s efficient hands.
“Here we see the famous Ferris Sudderman, AKA The Meister, on the first day of his spirit crushing! Notice his struggles, his adorable attempts to fight back against his jailers, his spirited quips and resistance!”
In the video Ferris was being held down by two guards, each wearing strength enhancing suits to counter his super powers. Another woman, a Winn League Interrogator (or WLI) was mocking him while molesting him with her gloved hands and whips. The look on Ferris’s face was defiant. The Interrogator was obviously succeeding in torturing him. She stroked his naked body, slapped his face and spat on him, whispering jeers and mockery. Ferris was unable to retaliate besides glaring at her.
The tour guide watched the erotic torture with adoration. They admired the efficiency of the torture and the power being flaunted. They loved the foolish rebellion of the super hero. Destroying the rebellious will of a male was one of the greatest pleasures in the world. Stacey pressed her clicker. The scene shifted.
Now Ferris was being held down by just one Interrogator. He was hardly resisting. The interrogator was reading quotes for him to say, such as “Women are superior in every way” and “The Winn League is welcome to have me” and he was repeating after her without a fight. Stacey turned off the video.
“What you saw was the hero defeated and broken. He lasted a wonderful, delicious five weeks. But the problem was, although it is heartwarming to see a hero broken down so effectively, and learning and accepting their place, with that successful breaking of will and spirit comes a scary reality: we are running out of rebellious spirits to break.”
The idea of living in a world where there was no more male spirit to break was… disheartening. The Winn League was built on the idea of firm and undefeatable matriarchy, but also entirely defeatable males to feed on.
“Here at the Winn League’s Human Resource Division we foresaw such a shortage coming and have been working to prevent it for years now. Some of our projects include the ‘reserves’ where we allow heroes to live in ‘secrecy’ until hunting season.”
The “reserves” were areas in the world that were treated as faux blind spots in the Winn League’s detection. The heroes and rebels believed they were safe in these areas and made constant plans to undermine the matriarchal league, not knowing they were under surveillance and control the entire time. Every winter, during “hunting season,” women from all around the world entered the “reserves” to capture and kidnap some of their numbers.
“But preservation is not always enough. Sometimes we need solutions that not only preserves heroic resistance, but also recreates and revitalizes it. That’s why these factories were created. Here in the Male Strength Recycling clinic we take male heroes who have had their spirits completely broken, and forcibly transformed into docile pets and toys, and with a little bit of memory wiping, brainwashing, and hormone therapy, we convert them back into their rebellious old selves! Come this way and I’ll show you the process from beginning to end!”
*** *** ***
The investors were lead to a monitoring room where they could watch the action down below from a large window, safe from any unforeseeable accidents. When all of the investors had a clear view of the happenings and goings down below Stacey spoke into her pocket radio:
“The investors are watching! Please proceed as normal.”
She put away the radio and indicated to the lower room: a warehouse filled with muscular and armed women, recognized as the Winn League’s specially trained, super strength enhanced guards known as “Manhandlers,” as well as white medical curtains and an all female team of doctors.
“This is where we receive our two hundred or so rebellious males each day. The walls and floors of this factory are made from Wingranite, a manufactured concrete that even the strongest “hero” could never hope to break. These walls in particular, however, are especially reinforced as this is the only part of the factory in which males can be found out of bondage.
Each of the government provided Manhandlers below are armed with a specialized taser that attacks the heroes’ sexual nerves. Although a rowdy mail will not automatically be manhandled (even our weakest doctors can handle the strongest male) they will be tazed and “corrected” if they prove too much for the doctors to handle.”
Corrected referred to the universal method of taming and calming down a rebellious male: they were dragged into a locked room which they could not escape, and wrestled down and stripped by a fully clothed female who would openly taunt and mock the male all throughout the process. The process was simple: at first the mocking and taunting would aggravate the male and make them use up all of their energy trying to outfight the female. But when it inevitably became clear that this wasn’t possible the mockery would break down their resistance, and in a strange way psychologically calm and even comfort the male. The male was wrestled down until calmed, possibly even forcibly jerked off, but denied orgasm until compliant.
“We’ve never had to resort to that, however. The males being brought in are used up. They are broken in spirit and have no rebellion left in them. Their female owners call us ahead of time and our delivery buses collect them all early in the morning. Ah! We can see the buses bringing in the first shipment already!”
A single file line of men, lead by a uniformed female factory employee, entered the room. None of the men were chained, collared, or in any way physically bound. Just as Stacey had said, each man had already been long exhausted of any heroic or rebellious rhetoric. Submissive not just in action but in mind and self identity. The women under the Winn League government would never be satisfied in mere outward obedience, nor would they be okay with breaking a man’s sense of self worth. They thoroughly did away with their confidence and rebellion from even the deepest parts of their male minds. They took their self worth, previously reliant on independence and a foolish sense of moral superiority, and rewired it. It wasn’t as though the men and heroes the Winn League crushed thought less of themselves, but rather now their sense of self worth was based on better, truer sentiments: their value as slaves, tools, and boy-toys for their wives, bosses, and all female superiors.
“Note that each male is obedient, resigned, and shows no hint of bravado. They do as they are commanded and don’t argue against their female superiors, mo matter what humiliation they are ordered to go through.
We would normally declare these men as ‘success stories.’ Their mistresses, however, have decided they would prefer these men to become rowdy and rebellious again. Don’t we all relish the feeling of breaking down a haughty and oh-so-morally righteous hero? Don’t we all miss a man’s adorably ineffectual attempts to deny us their bodies, or defy us? I’m sure you all have a favorite memory of your husband or boyfriend’s rebellious stage before you stomped it all away.”
The investors all considered Stacey’s words. It was clear many of them agreed. There was no better feeling than humiliating and subjugating a rebellious man.
Stacey looked down at the room below. Something must have caught her eyes as she excitedly whipped out her radio and said;
“Someone hold onto the man who just entered! I want to interview him in front of the investors.”
The tour looked below. Two Manhandlers walked up to the male of interest and separated him from the line up. They surrounded him on both sides and lifted him up: one of each manhandlers’ elbows hoisting him up by the armpits, and one hand tightly gripping his knees, keeping his crotch wide open. It was an inescapable and very exhibitionist way to be held and one regularly employed Manhandlers.
One of the manhandlers held a radio in front of the man’s mouth. Stacey spoke to him through it.
“Hello, who am I speaking to?”
The man looked up at the radio. He spoke with a soft tone.
“I’m Verence, recently married to a Farnese Wintercloth. She sent me here to be… rejuvenated.”
“But what did you call yourself before you were corrected, Verence?”
“I was the urban superhero, Blight-O-Vore.”
The tour group jotted notes down, impressed. The night time vigilante Blight-O-Vore was well known in urban areas. Stacey smiled and prepared to put on a show for these ladies. It was a bit cruel… but the pleasure of pressing down on a male hero’s pride would definitely help entertain any investors who weren’t already sold on the factory.
“Ooh, Blight-O-Vore! And were you a very strong hero?”
“Y-yes.”
“A very just hero? One who fought for justice, equality, and freedom?”
“That’s… that’s what I fought for, yes.”
“And did you believe in all of that? Equality, justice and freedom?”
“…Very much so.”
The investors giggled. Stacey folded her arms as she spoke.
“But the Winn League is made up of, oh, what did you call us again? Villainesses? Evil women who love domination, and subjugation, and tormenting males. Did you ever try to fight us?”
“…I did.”
“And what happened?”
The hero didn’t respond right away. The tour group watched the poor manhandled hero with glee.
“…I tried to stop them from taking over my city. I thought my special weapons would at least help me fight off some of the foot soldiers… But even they were too much for me.”
“Oh no, Verence! Don’t tell me you lost to a few foot soldiers.”
“They…they were young girls. They couldn’t have been older than eighteen. Nineteen at the latest. They stripped me and…and raped me…”
“How, Verence? Describe it in detail.”
From up above, the tour guides could see a bulge begin to form at the hero’s crotch. He couldn’t hide it, being held by the two Manhandlers.
“I…I was naked and held down so… I struggled. I shouted at them and tried to power myself out of their tight, firm grips. And when I saw that one of them was… was reaching for my… my penis…with her hands cupped, I tried to avoid it. But I couldn’t escape it. She cupped around my… my balls…”
“Mmm, putting them right where they belong,” one of the investors whispered to another. There was giggling.
“And what did she do to your balls, Verence?”
“S-she… she teased me… She squeezed them gently and told me she could do whatever I wanted to me and I couldn’t stop her. S-she said that in the Winn League Army even a mere petty officer like herself was too much for me… Then while squeezing me… She proved it.”
“How?”
“The others let go… She told me to try and stop her, still holding onto my genitals in her warm… soft hands… So I tried everything.”
There were tears now, but Stacey didn’t relent.
“What did she do? Tell me everything.” Stacey whispered. Verence began to cry.
“I tried to hit her… but my punches did nothing to her. I tried to pull my… my dick… away from her, but I couldn’t. I bit, I screamed, I acted like a savage animal. She ignored me and kept squeezing, and squeezing…”
“Ah. So she was correcting you, right?”
“S-sort of… she didn’t even bother fighting me. I couldn’t stop her…”
“How did she feel? Tell me how you felt in her soft, inescapable hands.”
“I felt… so good… so warm… I couldn’t hold back for long, and… I leaked in her hands. She didn’t let me cum. And I broke down…”
The tour group let out a collective “aww” and made cooing noises, as though it were the end of a charming love story. The manhandlers smiled at their little prisoner.
“And that was your first time being corrected, am I correct?”
“Th-the first of many wonderful corrections,” Verence muttered. “Farnese corrected me thoroughly, and then made me her husband. I’ve been so happy, serving her…”
“Do you know why I made you tell me all of this, Verence? It wasn’t just to humiliate you for our own amusement, you know. After all, you’re sobbing with joy and nostalgia right now, aren’t you?”
Verence didn’t answer. Stacey continued.
“It is because I wanted you to relive that experience once more, before we erase your memory… Before we give you back the fresh, energetic rebellion that young girl squeezed and milked out of you long ago.”
Verence began to sob harder. Stacey whispered, gently…
“I’m sorry, Verence. But we’re making you a heroic, strong superhero again. To crush you all over again.”
“No! Please… I don’t want to be confident again. I was a fool who thought I could win… who thought my place was anywhere else other than under the Winn League heel. Please.”
“Oh Verence, but what we want from you is to be rebellious and strong willed again! It’s what’s best for the Winn League. We will take you, and rewire that little brain of yours to value childish ideals like “I can’t be broken!” or “I fight for justice!” and the like. What do you think of that?”
“I don’t want this at all. I want to stay broken…”
“Oh baby, maybe it won’t be permanent! After all, your wife will be breaking your newly rejuvenated spirit all over again. Think back to your first moments, being humbled, degraded, and corrected by the young foot soldier. Think back to your wife, wrestling you down forcing you into your new role, breaking all of your hope… Don’t you want to experience that all over again?”
“Y-yes… I do…”
“Put him in front of one of the lines, manhandlers. I want to use him as a demonstration!”
Stacey heard the manhandlers salute, and then clicked her radio off. She faced the tour group, who were all excited.
“What you witnessed was a properly broken down hero. Note how he has been taught to embrace his new role… How he’s so reluctant to be reinvigorated. I wanted to demonstrate the effectiveness in how our society breaks its males and how this has created a need for the recycling of male egos and rebels! Follow me, if you will!”
*** *** ***
Stacey brought the tour group to the upper section of a containment room. Naked men were lined up with their hands tied up behind their backs. More armed manhandlers watched over the pathetic males, ready to pounce and grab.
Verence could be seen entering from the previous room. Stacey commanded some of the manhandlers via radio to seize the poor ex-hero and separate him from the line up once again. This time one manhandler grabbed his two ankles and held them firmly together. Two others took wrists in one hand, spread him into a T-position, and used their other strong hands to support his chest. This was yet another inescapable grapple designed to detain and transport men, only this one was meant to keep their asses vulnerable and ready for use.
“Verence, as well as all of the other men, have been given a full medical inspection. He was stripped down and tested for any physiological and mental faults that could make him unqualified for recycling. The doctor then tested Verence’s sexual organs as well. The process is not mandated, nor is it monitored or regulated so the doctor was free to do whatever she wished for the test. Full disclosure, our doctors have a huge Tease and Denial fixation. It’s a problem we’ve yet to fix,” Stacey said, smiling and winking. The tour group giggled. “Now we’ll demonstrate the bondage process.”
Stacey held her radio up and gave the order:
“Skip the line up and strap Verence in.”
“Copy that,” was one of the manhandlers’ reply.
They watched the manhandlers carry the hero to the front of one of the lines. There was a bed and six nurses ready to work on the naked bodies. Stacey lead the tour group towards an area from which they would have a clearer look at the action. A mechanical “ding” was signalled and the process began.
The men were placed onto the beds. The tour group watched Verence be pressed firmly onto the bed, lying on his back. His erection was visible and some of the tour group made note that it was pink and showed clear signs of tease and denial.
Two nurses held down his limbs while four nurses prepared what looked to be bandages of cotton.
“This specialty cotton is farmed in the Winn League Carolina Division, though we hope your investments could help us to manufacture them locally. They’re perfectly breathable. A male can be wrapped up head to toe in these and still breathe just fine.”
The nurses held him down and began to wrap him up. Two nurses began at the feet while others wrapped up his head and went downwards. They efficiently covered his entire body in rows and rows of cotton bandages. The only part sticking out was, of course, his penis.
“Breathing okay?” one of the nurses asked. There was an affirmative Mmph from Verence. “Struggle,” was the next order.
The bound up Verence bounced up and down and grunted with effort, but no stretching or even hint of progress was made. He was utterly trapped in his wrappings. Stacey smiled.
“The cotton also has a tensile strength of 1000 psi. It’s inescapable and yet so soft and cozy.”
Next the nurses began to wrap the hero in another layer of bandages, again, leaving his cock exposed. Then, when Verence was thoroughly bound up nice and tight, the nurses got to work on the second stage of his binding.
Using paint brushes they began to coat him in some sort of liquid.
“He’s being covered head to toe in a rubber-like sap that will harden, encasing him. We’ll only leave three openings. One for his cock, of course, and the other for his mouth and nose, and the last for his anus. No male hero alive can free himself from this encasing.”
The nurses lifted him with what would be a surprising display of strength considering their size, if not for the fact that all women were blessed with great strength under the Winn League, and they began coating his back. Once he was completely coated and sealed they waited for the coating to dry. Stacey commentated as they waited.
“This sealing substance was used to trap resisting heroes back in the days of the war. The Winn League, though already invincible, were just beginning to perfect the male-breaking techniques. We needed a substance to safely imprison the heroes while using them as test rats for our techniques. Now we use them to keep them safe during the rejuvenation project! Let’s begin!”
As Stacey said so the nurses latched hooks onto the hardened sealing of Verence and the other men. A machine came down and took them by the hooks, slowly hoisting them into the air and onto an assembly line hanger. They swung in the air, bound up nice and tight, and were slowly taken to the next room.
“And let’s proceed!” Stacey said.
*** *** ***
The wrapped up mummy that was Verence was brought swung to the next room. The tour group followed him and watched as various machines worked on his helpless body. Stacey explained the process of each.
“Ah, first a straw is inserted into anal cavity in order to clean him up. I’ll admit, even though we know men were put on this earth to be tortured for our amusement, I cringe a little at this. It’s quick, relax.
Next a small lid is placed over his crotch opening to protect him from the next machines…
He’s being inserted into a tight, throat-like tube to be massaged. His head is kept above the tube, but the rest of his body is being squeezed rhythmically.
Okay, now he’s being lifted out of the “throat” and the crotch plate is being taken off. Depending on what our doctor’s write about his physical and mental state, he may be getting some “pleasure treatment” today…
…Ah! Here comes the sucking tube. Have any of you ever used a Winn League specialized vacuum on a male’s genitals? Their horrified reaction to having their ejaculate sucked right out of them is wonderful to witness. Sadly, we won’t see his face under those bindings… Oh, but listen to him trying to moan! Suck suck suck, sucked right up the chute! And it feels so good for the male… I presume!
While he’s being sucked on a robotic recording plays comforting sounds. The sound of two females insulting him, humiliating him, and assuring him that there’s nothing he could have done to escape the suck, as to relieve him of any guilt.
And now… for the main room.”
The bound up hero was taken to the next room, where he was to experience the first taste of “rejuvenation.”
*** ***
The bound up hero hung in the center of an almost perfectly cube room. The tour group stood in the room also, awaiting the process to begin.
“In this room begins the first of two main steps to full rejuvenation of heroic spirit! Before we can reform the spirit of the hero we must remove all of the reprogramming we’ve forced onto the hero. This means we must repress or outright remove most of his memories of being defeated by us, for what hope and resistance can survive such devastating reality?
The floor, ceiling, and two of these walls shall emit powerful waves of pressure that will alter the male’s thoughts and memories. But don’t worry! These waves are specialized to affect the male ego, not our more powerful brains.”
The ceiling, floor, and two opposite walls began to glow a green light. The tour group watched as Verence began to spin in place slowly.
“For the first three minutes the waves being emitted are to relax the male. Verence’s brain is being ordered to shut down up to twenty five percent of his body’s nerves, and forcing itself into a trance like state. Sensory deprivation is a powerful, irresistible hypnotic.”
When three minutes passed the walls began to change in shade. Verence’s movements went from slow to twitchy as he was barraged with new sensations.
“He’s begun feeling the effects on his mind. He’s losing memories and his mind is trying to fight back… But he’ll soon quiet down! Although we can’t hear it, he’s being barraged with all varieties of hypnotic signals. The parts of his brain that controls erotic sensation is being tickled as his memories are being altered…
Gone shall be his innate fear of the matriarchy… Wiped from his mind all of the wisdom he’s gained from being humbled by our powerful warriors… Stolen are his memories of his loving, dominant wife… It will be as if he had never been corrected before in his life. I know it seems like a waste. Months, a whole year even, of work undone. But it’s necessary if we wish to preserve a fragile, dwindling resource!”
With a final groan, Verence ceased to move. The conveyor line wheeled him to the next room.
*** ***
Verence’s mummified body had a headphone strapped to him. He was surrounded with television screens displaying footage of male superheroes fighting off dictatorships and armies. The tour group stared, fascinated by the vintage memoirs of an age long gone. Stacey explained.
“And here we see the bound up hero being filled with charming, and unapologetic lies. Niceties such as ‘the power of justice’ and ‘hope in resistance’ are being pumped into his vulnerable subconscious, reinvigorating the long suppressed and defeated urges to fight back against our reign. Pure emotional drivel that has no basis in reality, of course.”
The women watched with glee as Verence’s body slowly began to move. His motions became more and more impassioned as he fought against the unbeatable bindings. He began to grunt and grunt. Stacey, who was used to the sight, watched with glee as the tour group watched the bound hero hungrily. Each woman, as professional as they were, were holding back their urge to pounce.
For a woman there was no instinct stronger than the urge to pounce upon and subjugate a rebellious male. Especially a “hero” who fights for justice.
Verence began attempting to shout through his bindings as he was brought by the machine away. Stacey, smiling brightly, faced the tour group.
“And voila! A long defeated hero has been brought back into the world for his lucky wife to subjugate all over again! The corrected made incorrect. Through this process we can successfully recycle males to produce rebellion over and over again with no economic stress!
Although we, as a society, have long suppressed and eradicated any real threat to our reign, and the main wars are long behind us… Although we may thoroughly dominate the male gender and have long crushed their so called “heroes,” we can continue to defeat and humiliate foolish rebellious opponents for as long as we find joy in the deed. I hope you’ve enjoyed this tour of the Winn League’s factories!
I have one last treat for all of you before you go… Please follow me…”
*** ***
The factory’s east employee break room was closed off for the day to serve the tour group. Stacey brought the excited tour group to the room. The sight awaiting them made them giggle with glee, like school children.
Bound up chest to toe in their rubber-sap cocoons, with their crotches and asses exposed, were a large group of muscular, rebellious heroes. They shouted in outrage and demanded explanations, some threatening violence. This only made the investors more excited, a hungry look in all of their eyes. They all approached the bound up heroes like coyotes surrounding prey. There was one hero for each woman.
“They’re free. Enjoy!” Stacey smiled and closed the doors. Satisfied and certain that she had succeeded in obtaining investors for the organization, Stacey happily walked back to her office as the screams of pleasure and shock rang out behind her.
