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Two Games (MM/m)

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BoyofRope
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Two Games (MM/m)

Post by BoyofRope »

NOTE: I have never played paintball, so I have no idea how that game actually works. This has not been proofread or anything. I wrote it as a stream of thought. I hope that you enjoy.

Part 1:

It’s early, Saturday morning, on a cool fall day.

Jimmy, a 16 year-old, high school sophomore slowly starts to wake up from a deep sleep. He slept on an air mattress blown up on his older, 20 year-old cousin’s, Brett, bedroom floor. He stirs beneath his comforter, dressed in only his well-born briefs and dirty ankle socks. Stretching is muscles and yawning he begins to image what this day will bring. At 16, Jimmy is a little short and slim for his age, but maintains a muscular figure from playing numerous sports. Standing at about 5 feet 7 inches tall and weighing about 125 pounds of nothing but muscle. His appearance was strong and fit, with little flab to be seen. Timmy’s well-proportioned appearance was something he, admittedly, enjoyed about himself. With well-defined abs, arms and legs, and a chest that made him look strong. He had mopish medium-length dark brown hair, and a handsome face. Brett, on the other hand, was much taller and heavier. At a towering 6 feet 3 inches, and 175 pounds, though he put this to good use by working out often and being an avid outdoorsman.

The two boys grew up together and have a fairly close relationship. Living in a medium-sized town outside of Albany, NY there wasn’t always a whole lot to do. The pair were practically brothers since both only had sisters. Brett often teased, in friendly manner, Timmy about his smaller size. On occasion the two would workout together, sometimes wrestle one another which often resulted with Timmy being pinned down by Brett. Though, like any pair of brothers, they would at times fight, bother each other, have their own lives, and need some space.

Both Timmy and Brett’s parents were out of town this weekend with their sisters for a dance competition. So, Brett was tasked with looking over his cousin. Much to his dismay, since today Brett had plans to play a long game of paintball with some of his buddies from around town. Brett and his friends took their paintball games quite seriously, and Timmy had never played before. Brett, for sure, did not want to have Timmy on his team knowing that a first time player was more of a liability than an asset.

Each of the guys woke up and got ready for the day. They ate breakfast, got their gear together, dressed, and readied to set out for the game. Walking out the door, Timmy was wearing a white t-shirt that he tucked into athletic pants with a camo print. Brett wore a green tank top, tucked into brown canvass pant. Each wearing boots designed for the outdoors.

But, before breakfast, Timmy went out for a quick 3-mile run as he normally did every weekend morning. Brett had made him leave his running shoes outside on the porch since they would’ve stunk up the house otherwise. He hadn’t showered the day before and knowing that he was going to get dirty and sweaty today didn’t bother this morning either. At this point, he had been wearing the same briefs and socks for about 36 hours.

After driving for about 30 minutes, through the small towns and rolling hills of eastern, upstate NY, they arrived at the paintball facility. Most of the guys they were playing with had already arrived. Brett upon getting out of the var waved to his friend Connor, and walked over to him. Timmy was quick to follow.

Connor was Brett’s best friend. He was similarly built to Brett, a bit stockier, but equally strong and commanding. Standing at 6 foot, and weighing nearly 180 pounds with short brown hair in a classic cut. The two of them go way back. They each rose through the ranks of boy scouts to each become an eagle scout. They played on the same sports teams and worked at the same restaurant in high school. Given how close they were, Timmy felt close to Connor and felt a friendly kinship toward him too. Almost brother-like, given how close and Connor was to his cousin. After catching up for a few minutes, the group that was playing paintball that day had all assembled.

A facility manager came over and began to explain the rules of the game to the group. For the game there would be two teams of 10 players each. Among the 20 guys gathered around, Timmy was visibly the smallest among them. A ping of fear, a shiver of anxiety, ran through Timmy after noticing how small he was compared to the other guys. But, he wanted to prove himself to these guys. For the game, there would be 3 rounds. Each round both teams would be given 3 flags. Each round would last up to 2 hours or until all 3 of a teams flags had been collected, whichever came first.The objective is to collect as many of the opposing teams flags as possible, and at the end of the 3 rounds whichever team has the most wins. At least one flag would have to be located at the main base each round. You were allowed to steal your flags back if they had been collected.

In the field, two things can happen to you by the opposing team, you can either be disqualified or you can be captured. To be disqualified means that you have been shot in one of the key areas at least once, such as the chest, or in multiple non-key areas, such as in both legs. If you are disqualified you are out of the game and you must return to your base until the round ends. You are able to rejoin your team to fight again in the next round. To be captured means that you have been surrounded, and well, captured by the opposing team. This could be done in a number of ways, such as being shot in one leg and having your paintball gun taken away. The opposing team would then take you back to their base and hold you prisoner. If you are taken as a prisoner, you remain a prisoner in the following rounds until either you escape by your own means or you are rescued by one of your team mates.

The paintball facility manager passed around padded jackets, helmets, and paintball guns to each guy. He then passed out bandanas to identify each team, 10 red and 10 blue. Timmy found himself on the Blue team, Connor and Brett on Red. They tied the bandanas around their right arm and gathered with their respective team.

Timmy soon met his Team Captain, Marvin. Marvin gave a short speech to hype his team up and mentally prep them for the day. He explained that various roles people would be assigned to better streamline their strategy. There would be ‘defenders’ who would guard their base, there would be ‘strikers’ who would roam the woods looking to disqualify or capture the opposing team, there would be a ‘scout’ who would venture far out away from their base into the woods to try and spy on the opposing team and find their flags, and there would be ‘runners’ who would travel between these groups and pass information along, and finally the ‘captain’ to manage and coordinate. Timmy was given the role of ‘Scout’.

After each team finished strategizing for about 15 minutes, two facility employees drove over in golf carts, giving each team one to drive out to their bases. Neither team knew where the others base would be. The paintball facility was nearly 5 square miles in total area, made up of thick forests, running streams, old logging paths, rolling hills and rock outcrops. After setting out from the parking lot, it took about 20 minutes of driving through the forest to get to their assigned base. Shortly after, an alarm rang out to signal the start of the game.

“Alright Timmy, as the scout, we need you to go out now and try to locate the enemy base. Don’t get caught, once you find it, come right back here, so remember the path you take.” Marvin instructed.

“Yeah, okay, I will try. But, what happens if I get captured? I understand if I get disqualified, I will need to come back here. But the alternative?” Timmy nervously asked.

“I can’t speak for what the enemy might do. Knowing that your cousin is out there though, well, I can’t imagine he’d want to take it easy on you, especially with it being your first game. Now, we have no time to waste, GO!”

Timmy, a bit annoyed, a bit confused, and a bit anxious, set out from his group into the woods to scout ahead. He, unlike the others on his team, was unfamiliar with the layout and terrain of this battlefield. With a growing pit in his stomach he just knew that he was most likely going to either get disqualified or captured early this round.

After about 30 minutes of wandering through the woods on his own, Timmy stumbled upon a big rock laid out in the sun next to a small stream. He sat down, a bit tired from the warmth that had built in the air since morning and carrying all of his equipment. He took off his helmet and his padded jacket, revealing a sweat-through white t-shirt that clung to his skin tucked into his pants, and placed his paintball gun against the rock. Nearly 30 seconds later, three members of the opposing team jumped out from the surrounded trees.

“HOLD UP - WE GOT YOU” one of them shouted at him.
“HANDS BEHIND YOUR HEAD” another one demanded.

‘FUCK - I knew this was going to happen’ Timmy thought to himself as he moved his arms up and placed his hands behind his head.

The third one approached Timmy head-on with his paintball gun pointed right at him.

“Well, hey there Timmy” - Connor spoke. Timmy instantly knew who it was, and for a brief moment, felt a sigh of relief at recognizing a familiar, and assumedly, friendly figure. “Looks like we got you surrounded. We’ve been trailing you for a little while now. You know, you really should try to be a bit more sneaky out here. You aren’t helping your team at all by being so loud and exposed like this. I know this is your first game, but we don’t take it easy on newbies. Now, we could choose to disqualify you right now and let you return to your base until the next round or we capture you and hold you hostage. Which, I think the later presents a far more valuable lesson.”

Connor grabbed Timmy’s right arm and twisted it behind his back, next his left arm. Forcing Timmy’s arm in place behind his back, Connor was able to swiftly place a large zip tie around his wrists, pulling the cord and locking them in place.

“What the fuck is this dude?” Timmy said in a bit of shocked dismay.

“I’m sure that Brett told you we take these games seriously here. Now, I wouldn’t talk back so much if I were you. C’mon guys, he’s get our prisoner back to base. Grab his things.”

The two other guys walked in front of Timmy, with Connor behind him, making any attempt at running off a really dumb idea. Especially with this wrists zip tied behind his back. After about 10 more minutes of waling through the woods, following a narrow trail, they came upon their game base. Two small buildings were situated in a clearing of the trees with a hill sharply rising behind them. One was a typically shed, like you’d find in the backyard if a typical suburban home, and the other a small concrete bunker with no door, and a large open window. A structure that could easily be defended. The four entered the concrete bunker to find four more members of the team, including Brett.

“Hahaha, can’t say that I’m surprised to see this” Brett laughed upon seeing his cousin walk into the room at paintball gun point. He walked over the Timmy and ruffled his sweaty hair.

“Yeah, he made it more than easy on us” Connor joked.

“Well, you know, I’m quite relived that he’s here. Because now, I don’t have to worry so much about a dwerpy little cousin getting lost or hurt out in these woods, playing this game. Being a newbie, his capture probably isn’t that big of an issue for his team, I’d be surprised if they sent someone out to come find him. But, now they are down one guy which gives us an advantage by numbers so let’s not waste anymore time. We have to get their flags to win. Connor, Jason, take little Timmy here to the shed and see if you can get any information out of him. You know what to do.”

Jason grabbed a small bag as Connor said “Let’s go”. Grabbing Timmys shoulder Connor led him out of the bunker and into the shed. Connor pushed Timmy into the center of the shed as Jason closed the door behind him. There wasn’t much inside apart from an old wooden chair, a central support beam, a pile old blankets, and a few rings bolted to the walls.

Connor grabbed Timmy, and started to pat him up and down, checking his pockets to see if he had anything on him. “Tsk, tsk, you really are a newbie. You should always have some kind of pocket knife or some survival gear on you. Because, now, I think you’re quite fucked. Let’s hope that your team notices your gone and comes to find you.” Connor whispered to Timmy. “Toss that bag over here.”

Jason threw the bag to Connor, with it landed by his feet with hefty thud. Connor opened it up, reached inside, and pulled out a big roll of duct tape. “You ready, Timmy?”

Timmy gulped, panicked. “What, what are you doing?”

“Don’t make this harder on yourself now, okay? It’s just a game, and while it’s for fun, we do take holding our prisoners seriously.” Connor cut the zip ties binding Timmys wrists, but immediately began to bind them together with the duct tape. Connor wrapped around many times, adding layer after layer, moving up about half way to Timmy’s elbow. Connor ripped the tape, and started wrapping around Timmys upper arms, pinning them to his slim body.

“What the fuck DUDE! What are you doing?! Stop!” Timmy protested, forcefully stepping away.

“Jason, hold him!” Connor kneeled down, wrapping more tape around Timmy’s ankles, below his knees, above his knees, and then around his waist and wrists all together. After a couple of minutes thick, strong bands of duct tape were wrapped all around Timmy’s body, completely binding him. Timmy was a bit taken aback by how quickly he was so effectively immobilized. Hopping around and in place, struggling against his bonds, he had never been tied up like this before. Breathing heavily trying to adjust to his new situation Timmy was sweaty, a bit panicked, and admittedly a feeling slightly euphoric. Jason grabbed Timmy and placed him onto the floor.

“Hang out here for a bit, we’ll be back” Connor said to Timmy as he and Jason walked out the shed and closed the door behind them.

Timmy flopped around on the floor. Breathing deep, fast breathes, with each one forcing him to feel the tightness of the wraps around his arms and chest. His legs secured together, his arms bound together behind his back and to his core, he waved around like a worm on the floor. Rolling onto his stomach, on his back, and back again desperately trying to find some kind of break, some weakness in the tape. After some amount of time, Timmy began to feel exhausted as his struggles were fierce. All while thoughts raced through his head. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. Is this really how they play? God, why would they tie me up like this? I’m getting really, sweaty, will that make the tape loosen? Why did Connor make it so tight? If I can’t get out, and if my team doesn’t find me, am I going to stay like this for the entire game?! We JUST started?”

Though, deep inside, Timmy was grappling with other complicated feelings. He had often wondered what it would feel like to be tied up, helpless, out of his own control and under someone else’s. There was an excitement, an exhilarant feeling that Timmy couldn’t ignore, but had to sit with while bound, struggling on the floor.

It wasn’t clear to Timmy how much time had passed when Connor had returned back to the shed.

“Hey bud, how ya doin’?”

“Let me out! How long have I been tied up, are you going to keep me like this all day?!”

“You thirsty? Here have some water” Connor knelt down and held a bottle to Timmy’s mouth as he downed the water. “Good, drink up. It’s warm today. Now, it would be in your best interest to tell us any information you have about where your team has hidden your flags.”

“I.. I.. I don’t know. They sent me out to scout before they hid them.”

“Well, that makes sense. I’m sure they expected you to be captured, and giving you information would have been a liability. Interesting strategy they are playing. But, that makes you virtually useless. Which, doesn’t bode well for you in this game.”

Connor stood up, and started to pace around the shed. His heavy boots clunking along the dusty wooden floor.

“Brett would be here, but he is out in the forest trying to win this round of the game. He’s left me in charge to look after our prisoners. You seem to be fine in here, and since you don’t have anything helpful to say, I think that you’ll just need to hang out here for a while. Good luck trying to escape, it doesn’t appear as though you’ve made any progress. And actually, we’ve disqualified a fair bit of your team already, so I doubt that anyone is coming to find you.”

Connor knelt back down, and pulled Timmy’s legs toward him. Connor began to pull off Timmy’s boots, slowly removed his socks, and dug his fingers into his sweat soles. Writhing in ticklish torment Timmy started to shout and yell, squirming hard against his bonds.

“Ugh, I can’t have this. You’ll give away our location, others will hear you. I think that I need to shut you up. But how can I do that?”

Grabbing Timmy’s dirty, sweaty socks, Connor held them up infront of Timmy’s face. With his other hand he flashed the role of tape that had been used to bind him.

“You aren’t going to do that, no, please, they smell so bad…”

“Sounds like you’ve read my mind. Are you a bit if a deviant, Timmy?” Connor said smirking.

Grabbing Timmy’s face, Connor shoved his own dirty socks into his mouth locking them in with rounds and rounds of tape circling his head. Timmy ‘mmmphing’ in response. This added new element, increasing the feeling of helplessness that Timmy had been sitting in for the past hour ratcheted up in intensity.

Patting Timmy’s cheeks, Connor said with a tongue-and-cheek tone “Now there we go. Be a good little hostage boy. Enjoy sucking on those dirty, nasty socks of yours. By the looks of it, you certainly don’t seem to be haaaating this.’ While looking down at Timmy’s crotch.

Standing back up, Connor walked toward the door. “First round of the game is soon to be over. I’ll remind you that prisoners remain prisoners into the following rounds unless they escape or they are rescued. It’s about 2 o’clock now, I expect the game to last at least another 4 hours. So, you best settle in.” Connor walked out, closing the shed door behind it, securing the latch.

“MMMMPH! MMMPH! MMMMMMMPHHH!” Timmy wailed into his seclusion. Conflicting feels wrestling inside him of wanting to be free, and of enjoying his boundedness. Connor had, embarrassingly for Timmy, keenly observed his physical reaction to having more added to his already extreme state of helplessness.

Bound and gagged, and left with little hope of escape, Timmy could only face his predicament head on. Resolved to his situation he clumsily, hopped, rolled, and flopped his way over to the pile of blankets in the corner hoping for a softer surface to lay than on the hard wooden floor. He know that he had no chance of escape from the tape binding his body, and felt dwindling hope of rescue, so he tried to relax.

Over the next 4 hours, he occasionally struggled. He tried to nap. He tried to ignore the sensations he was feeling. When waking up this morning, excited to play paintball, he had not expected to instead spend nearly the entire time completely bound and gagged with his own dirty socks. He thought that there we’re certainly worse ways to spend a day than this, such as being at his sisters dance recital all weekend. Eventually, the shed door opened, and he was greeted by Brett and Connor.

“Hey bud, how ya doin? Games over, we won! Enjoy your time in here?” Brett laughed.

They picked him up to his feet, and guided him out the door. Timmy hopped over to the golf cart that brought the opposing team to their base before the start of the game. They drove for about 15 minutes through the bumpy forest until they reached the parking lot where both of the teams had gathered. Timmy was the only one still tied up and gagged, though he wasn’t sure if anyone else had been throughout the game. For the next several minutes guy’s all around him laughed at his situation, ruffling his hair, patting him on the back. They all called him a ‘good sport’, a ‘good boy’, they asked if ‘had fun’, ‘enjoyed the day’, and said that he ‘didn’t look half bad tied up’. All Timmy could do was ‘mmmph’ in response. They said that since it was his first time playing with them they had to make it memorable for him, that he needed to prove himself, that he could take it, and invited him to play with them again.

Brett and Connor began to cut the tape from his body. Timmy replied to the group that he had fun, despite the circumstances. He was sore and tired, but excited to play again sometime. The three of them got into Brett’s car and drove home. Connor was spending the rest of the weekend with them. Once getting home, the guys all showered, they ordered some food and rested for a while.

After a couple hours of rest, the guys while sitting on the couch watching some TV, Connor - shirtless, wearing long white socks and sweatshirts, spoke up asking “So, Timmy, you had fun today? It seemed like you enjoyed yourself.”

Timmy - wearing a sweatshirt, and shorts, “yeah, it wasn’t all bad. You know though, you made it pretty unfair by tying me up with tape. With how much you used, it was impossible to escape.”

Brett - wearing a tight, white tank top, long white socks, and grey sweatpants, “Alls fair in love and war, and paintball.” Joked.

“You think you could’ve escaped under other circumstances?” Connor asked.

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

“Yeah, definitely, If you had used rope or something I absolutely wouldn’t gotten out. Maybe I would’ve even ambushed and tied you!” Timmy poked.

“Oh yeah? You think so?” Brett said.

“Well, if that’s the case then. Why don’t we put that to the test?” Connor put forward.
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TuggyBoundMale
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Post by TuggyBoundMale »

I don’t know about paintball either, but this story sure is a lot of fun. Really enjoyed it.

I hope there’ll be a second part ;)
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Post by Redman »

That was a fun read! As a (formerly) avid paintballer, I only wish I'd played games that lasted that long. One bit of inside information; If anyone takes their mask off on the field, they can be ejected from the game. Timmy's lucky he didn't get caught by a ref!

For those of you who've never played before, I'd encourage you to do it! The game is a TON of fun, even when no one is taking prisoners.
I love to chat and roleplay. DMs are open.
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