Stories of Tie Up Games

YAY More of this great Tale! Burt in charge is so great! Slick is defeated and knows it!

Hot scene and again you captured an old west feeling with the old water wheel, dry river bed, and handsome tough-guy Slick in nothing but his dusty boots getting baked in the sun with his manhood in peril!

Great to see Burt back in action.

[mention]Volobond[/mention] and [mention]gag1195[/mention] You guys have a ton of faith in Burt's abilities, I love it...

[mention]Muscle-Flex[/mention] thanks for that, I try to keep the setting realistic and it's great that you can pick up on that!

[mention]thesean1[/mention] indeed it is! He was quiet for a while...

by looking at [mention]bondagefreak[/mention]'s mammoth tale - I saw he designed some character cards... I was inspired to do the same.

Here is our Wild west Hero...


*edit - updated the stats a little

[mention]MountainMan_91[/mention] That's a beautiful card design, my friend!
Would be the perfect size for a tabletop game. Really liking it

On another note, Burt would make for a very potent adversary with those stats!
Sheesh. Would not wanna get on the wrong side of him.

My favorite part of Burt's character card is "Charisma: 8" That is fantastic.

Muscle-Flex wrote: 4 years ago My favorite part of Burt's character card is "Charisma: 8" That is fantastic.

I could swear the stats have changed since I last looked at Burt's card yesterday.
He seems more mortal now. Still formidable, but mortal

8 Charisma isn't all that terrible. I imagine that comes from the fact that our "Roper" is a solo guy who likes to do things his own way. Basically a one-man team. No need to exercise or sharpen his leadership skills and whatnot.

bondagefreak wrote: 4 years ago

I could swear the stats have changed since I last looked at Burt's card yesterday.
He seems more mortal now. Still formidable, but mortal

Hi yes... redid the stats on all my cards

I was quite off originally

This is such a great story, I so want to get my ropes and gags on Burt.

I know this is an older story, but I just love the dynamics in it
Made my boyfriend read it too and he admitted that it was hot, too

Having just finished the first chapter of your story I have to admit that you have a very talented writing style which I enjoy reading!

Well done, I'm loving your story

Howdy.

It's been a while since we had any Roper action.

Having arrived to a better place in my life where I have inspiration to write again I want to revive this story.

I hope you enjoy the continuation!

I tried continuing right where we left off but didn't feel the story as it was. I changed it up I this chapter to indicate a fresh start!

Don't worry though, those open ended tit-bits from previous chapters will be answered... Burts training hinted at, at the end of part II chapter 6. Red Roger's demise as hinted at in Part III - we will get answers to these in due time... for now enjoy the continuation.





Part IV: The Ropers Shadow

Chapter 1

“Howdy, Mister Jackson,” the young cowboy said, pausing at the steps to the front porch of the weathered wooden cabin, tipping his hat.

Burt looked him over, his years etched deep but his jaw still square, his stare sharp as a spur. He grunted, giving a nod.

“Don’t know if you recall me, sir. You saved our ranch from cattle rustlers once. Name’s Jacob Tully. Folks call me Jake."

Burt stayed quiet, his face like stone. He’d pulled plenty of ranches out of trouble in his day; this kid could be anybody.

“From the Clarke brothers…”

A flicker crossed Burt’s eyes, and a faint grin tugged at his lip. He’d never forget the night he crossed paths with Lambert. “Yeah, I remember. How’s your ma? And the cattle?”

“That’s why I’m here, sir. Ma passed last winter, and we… I lost all the cattle to Mr. Rutherford. He’s buildin’ a railway line right through our land.”

“How old are you, son?”

“Turned eighteen last spring, sir.”

“When was it I rounded up your cattle?”

“‘Bout thirteen years ago, sir.”

“Hear that, Lamb?” Burt hollered back into the cabin. “Twelve damn years I been puttin’ up with your sorry hide.”

A low grunt came from inside.

Jake's eyes darted to the door. “Is one of them Clarke brothers in there?”

“Yep. He’s been servin’ his time with me. Go on in, take a look, boy.”

Jake hesitated. “Sir, I just wanted…”

Burt cut him off, his voice gruff. “Look, kid, my bounty-huntin’ days are long gone. I hung up my spurs, settled down, got me a good life and a friend to keep it lively. Ain’t about to throw that away for some young’un stuck in yesterday.”

A heavy silence fell, broken only by the creak of a loose windowpane flapping in the breeze.

Jake’s shoulders slumped, his hat twisting in his hands. This was his last shot. If the Roper wouldn’t help, the ranch—his last tie to anything worthwhile—was as good as gone. He stood there, looking like a whipped pup.

Burt sighed, his joints creaking as he rose from his chair, moving slower than he used to. He still cut a fine figure, but the fire in him had dimmed. “Look, kid. You need a place to lay your head tonight, you’re welcome to stay. But I ain’t pickin’ up the lasso again.” He limped toward the door. “You comin’, boy?”

Jake wavered. If the Roper wasn’t gonna help, he might as well ride out. But maybe, just maybe, he could still change the old man’s mind. He climbed the steps and slipped into the cabin, only to freeze at the sight inside.

The cabin was a single room, sparse but lived-in—a cot big enough for two, a table with a couple of chairs, a fireplace, a sink, and some cupboards. But it was the man in the middle of the room that stopped Jake cold. Tied to a chair, bare as the day he was born, was a fella who had to be Lambert Clarke. He was tall, muscled, with a light scattering of dark hair across his chest. His face, though, was soft, almost gentle—least what Jake could see of it.

Lambert’s shoulders were bound tight with hemp rope, pulled back against the chair. His wrists, Jake figured, were tied behind it. More rope crisscrossed his flat stomach, pinning him down. His thighs were spread wide, knees lashed to the chair’s armrests, and his ankles were roped to the legs. Jake’s eyes couldn’t help but land on the rock-hard cock jutting out in the center of it all.

Burt smirked. “Knew you’d wanna see. Lamb, this here’s the kid you stole cattle from the night we met. Say hi.”

Lambert grunted, and Jake noticed the leather bit pulled tight between his jaws, tied off behind his head.

“He’s been workin’ this patch of land I got when I retired,” Burt said. “Does all the heavy liftin’. Makes a damn fine servant, though he ain’t a slave. Ain’t that right, Lamb? You can walk out anytime you please.”

Lambert nodded.

“But you like it here, don’t you?”

Another nod.

“Now, Jack, was it?” Burt said.

“Jake, sir.”

“Jake, I can see by that tent in your britches you’re likin’ the view.” Jake flushed red, trying to shift his erection out of sight. “Don’t be ashamed, boy. It’s natural. Now, I’m gonna start fixin’ a soup for supper. You head outside and chop us some wood. Bring it back when you’re done. Go on, now.”

Jake stepped out, his head spinning. What in the blazes had he just walked into, and why did it stir something in him?

He found the axe by the woodpile and set to work. A few swings in, he wondered why he hadn’t just left. Why was he chopping wood for a washed-up bounty hunter who wouldn’t lift a finger to help? The Roper he’d idolized all these years was a shadow of the legend.

Jake swung the axe hard, splitting a log clean in two.

If the Roper was done, what hope was there for folks like him? Mr. Rutherford was gonna steamroll through, takin’ everything from everyone in these parts.

The axe swung again, another log split.

Unless… unless the Roper didn’t have to be gone. If Burt could teach him the tricks of the trade, Jake could take up the mantle. He could be the hope for others, the way Burt had been for him all those years ago.

The plan took shape in his mind as he gathered the wood and headed back to the cabin. Stepping inside, he was hit again by the sight of Lambert, bound and bare, but he kept his focus sharp. “Mr. Roper, I got an idea. You teach me your bounty-huntin’ skills, and I’ll take your place as ‘the Roper’!”

Burt didn’t even glance up from the pot he was stirring. “No.”

I wasn't expecting a new entry in this story, much less one with such a big timeskip, but consider me seated!

Burt, as a retired roper with a young apprentice wannabe, is something I didn't know I wanted!

Happy to hear you're back to writing! This new "setup" sounds interesting.

Howdy @DeeperThanRed and @blackbound awesome to see you guys dusting off you cowboy boots for this tale.

I know it's quite a whiplash from where we left it but I'm hoping it'll be worth it in the end.

A sombre chapter ahead... proceed with caution.

Chapter 2

Jake sat slumped, the firelight flickering across his face. The man before him was a husk of the Roper he’d grown up idolizing, a shadow of the hero who’d saved his family’s ranch. The legend felt like dust in the wind now.

“Get on, boy,” Burt said, his voice rough as gravel. “Help our friend there outta his chair for supper.”

Jake sighed and stepped toward the bound bull in the room’s center. Up close, Lambert was a mountain of a man, intimidating even roped down tight. Jake felt small next to him, less somehow. His fingers fumbled at the knots, but they worked quick, unraveling Burt’s expert ropework with surprising ease. He stepped aside as Lambert rose, moving with a quiet grace to a drawer, pulling out a faded red union suit and slipping it on.

“Your hands know ropes,” Burt remarked, stirring the soup pot. “I’ve seen men with knives struggle to undo my knots. Not bad, kid.”

“See? I can do it,” Jake pressed, his voice eager.

Burt’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t push me, boy. I said no.”

Lambert laid a gentle hand on Jake’s shoulder. “Leave it be, Jake. The old man’s found his peace here. Best we respect that.”

Jake opened his mouth to argue but caught Burt’s sagging shoulders, the weight of a long sigh pulling them down. Then Burt straightened, turned with the pot of soup, and flashed a grin. “Grub’s ready, boys.”

The three ate in silence, the air thick with words none dared speak.

After supper, Lambert cleared the table, his movements steady and practiced. Burt grabbed his pipe and settled by the fireplace, the glow painting his weathered face. Outside, the crickets had hushed, leaving the prairie’s eerie quiet to creep in. Jake lingered at the table, even after Lambert finished washing up.

He stole a glance at Burt, the old cowboy’s eyes fixed on the flames. If only the Roper could see his plan—the good they could do, the hope they could spark in these hopeless times.

Burt’s voice cut through the silence, low and commanding. “You wanna hear about the life of a hero, boy? The glory, the praise, the pedestal? The grit, the fire? It ain’t what you’re chasin’.”

Jake knew the tone—rhetorical, heavy. He held his tongue and listened.

“I wasn’t much older’n you, workin’ the fields. Ma cookin’, little sister washin’, little brother playin’ in the dirt, and Pa… he was ailin’. We needed coin for medicine. I rode to town, saw a wanted poster—dead or alive. Spotted that outlaw campin’ a few miles past our ranch. Thought it was my shot to save us. Ran home, burst into Pa’s room, grabbed his rifle and holster. Ma couldn’t stop me. I tore out, chasin’ that wisp of smoke in the distance. Got there, but the poster didn’t mention the man had company—eight outlaws, rough as they come. I wanted to bolt, but they sniffed me out. Wasn’t even a chase. They had me circled in minutes, a ring of hardcase bastards laughin’, shovin’ me between ‘em. One recognized me as the kid from the nearby ranch, the one with the sick man.”

Burt’s voice rumbled on, steady and grim. Jake hung on every word, the pauses between Burt’s pipe puffs stretching like hours.

“They yanked my arms back, took Pa’s rifle. ‘Tie him up,’ the head man barked. His boys lashed my wrists with rawhide, then my ankles. ‘Gag him.’ A dirty bandanna got stuffed in my mouth, tied tight behind my head. They propped me against a wagon wheel, tethered me with hemp rope like some damn mule. But the worst was yet to come.”

Jake flinched as Lambert’s hand rested on his shoulder again, the man’s face heavy with sorrow. Jake’s eyes flicked back to Burt, his weathered face locked on the fire.

“‘Let’s loot the ranch,’ they hollered. All but one rode off, headin’ for my home—a home with no man, no gun to protect it. I’d doomed my family.”

Burt’s voice cracked, a tear glinting in the firelight. Jake’s eyes stung.

“The one left behind… he had his fun. Pissed on me, forced me to… well, he said he hadn’t had a woman in months and needed release. Past midnight, the others came back, draggin’ Pa’s wagon, our mules haulin’ it. I watched, helpless, as those scum rifled through our lives—our hard-earned goods, stolen by rats, outlaws, nothin’ but vultures. Don't know about my family but never saw them again. I burned with hate, wanted to kill every last one. That’s what it does to you, boy. Turns you into somethin’ less than human—a soul full of hate, a heart set on one thing: stoppin’ evil. There’s gotta be more to life. Sometimes you find it—Emma, Cousin Kirby, Bloodwolf, Lambert. But they get taken, too, sooner or later. Leavin’ you empty again.”

The fire’s crackle was the only sound piercing the heavy silence.

Jake had listened, his response building. “I’m sorry, Mr. Roper, truly. But here’s the difference: you were alone, figurin’ it out with no one. I ain’t. I got you to guide me, keep my mission true, help where we can, save folks…”

He trailed off, feeling he’d said enough.

The silence stretched again.

“Kid’s got a point,” Lambert said, his voice soft as a lullaby.

Burt’s head snapped around, wet eyes boring into Jake’s.

“You want this? To ride out every day, hopin’ today’s the one you die, joinin’ the ones you lost? Puttin’ yourself in harm’s way for one purpose—to end it all? Don’t matter how much good you do if your soul’s gone.”

Jake stayed quiet for a moment. “It ain’t the same, Roper. You got one of the best souls I know. Ma said so, too. Every night, she’d pray for your soul.”

Lambert spoke again, trying to ease the tension. “Why don’t you hit the hay, Burt? Mornin’ll bring us back to rights.” Burt nodded and shuffled to the cot. Lambert tossed Jake a blanket and pointed to the rug by the fireplace.

Jake spread out before the fire, Burt’s story replaying in his head. It ain’t the same, he told himself, drifting off to sleep.

---

Jake woke to a sharp pain in his back, confused. He tried rolling over, but his body wouldn’t budge. His wrists were yanked behind him, crossed and bound with rope that bit into his skin. His elbows were pulled tight, almost unbearable. His knees were lashed together, his booted ankles locked side by side and tethered to his wrists. Four strands of rope held him in a strict hogtie, expertly knotted, tension perfect. He squirmed, but there was no give. Could he even escape this? The cabin was empty, save for him.

Jakes morning wood pressed hard into the floor under his weight.

“Hey! Hey! What’s this? Let me go!” Jake shouted.

The door creaked open, and Burt stepped in, a smirk curling his lips.

“Welcome to your first day of trainin’, kid.”

Burt grabbed a hemp sack and yanked it over Jake’s head, tying a noose around his neck to keep it in place. “Let’s see if you’re truly Roper material.”

It's interesting learning about his past after so long... Poor Burt. Now his interest in tying up his targets makes more sense.

Still, I think the young Jake is a good influence on him - a new boy to train will do him good!

Well, Jake got what he... wanted? Definitely what he'll need, though.

What a treat to see more of Mr. Roper! And now a Roper Jr in the making! Can't wait to see Jake's training and the passing of the mantle, with all the bondage that's going to entail!

Howdy Partners!

Absolutely @DeeperThanRed It is fun to actually give reason and backstory to the character 'The Roper', there is definitely more backstory to be revealed in part IV. He has many layers... like an onion... or a cake..

Yay! I'm happy you guys are taking to the idea of Roper training a Yung 'Un.

@gag1195 indeed bondage in abundance... let's see if the kid makes it...

@blackbound yes Jake got what he wanted, and needs.

However Jake will be having a slightly different foe than Burt.

Burt was after Outlaws, untrained wild rowdy...
Let's see if the skills transfer.

I need more sir fantastic series so far <3

Great to see this story revived - I think the tales of Burt gave me a gay/bisexual awakening back then

Knotted wrote: 3 weeks ago Great to see this story revived - I think the tales of Burt gave me a gay/bisexual awakening back then

Wow!

What an amazing message! Thanks for sharing. That is so huge. I'm glad that my wild mind and fiction meant something real to you! My day has been made. Thanks man

Hehehe, the Roper's pickin up the lasso once more! Love the continuation, and I'm sure Jake has a lot of rope in his future, and definitely as an apprentice!

Got caught up on this story, and it was a fun ride. I loved when Burt got the tables turned on him and was captured by the gang. It's always fun to see the more dominant characters get overpowered and defeated before they manage to escape and get payback.

Seeing the story revived after a few years is a treat. I am really enjoying that one of Burt's first lessons to Jake is that just because you're the Roper doesn't mean you won't be spending some time on the other side of the ropes. I am looking forward to Jake's training, and when he gets to go on his first adventure. I'm sure Jake will get to tie up and torment some devious bad guys, though hopefully after first being captured and tied up himself a few times. And I wouldn't object if Burt went with his protege and also got to spend some time on both sides of the ropes.