Rules of BDSM Manor - safety, respect, and consent.
Note to reader: You will get more from these characters if you read the stories in order, but it's not compulsory.
Tess-O'Meter -- Green.
-X
I knelt as quietly as I could in the leaf mould, slightly breathless from running hunched up. After checking my weapon to make sure I hadn't bunged up the end with mud and debris, I looked up at Alex who was crouched next to me, staring into the forest. His beautiful dark-demin eyes hard and determined as he scanned the undergrowth.
I swallowed, suddenly viciously aroused, and then noticed he was rubbing his thigh, where a wound dripped slightly down his leg and onto the damp ground.
"Does it hurt?" I asked, touching his leg lightly.
"Just stings a bit," he admitted, and then stopped as Curtis slid like a shadow over the empty broken windowsill and into the area we were crouched. It was half a shell of some sort of outhouse. Not much cover.
"Anything?" Alex asked, his voice low.
"Nah. It was probably a deer, or a squirrel."
I was about the argue the likelihood of this this when a twig snapped behind us.
The three of us spun as one. Aiming our weapons and zeroing in on the target like the well-oiled, well-trained, super-efficient machines of war that we really are not.
The target let out a squeak and dropped his gun. Freezing with his hands in the air.
Alex, moving like a panther, grabbed the guy and flung him onto the ground, pressing him into the dirt in a swift and brutal move, that spiked straight to my cock.
I watched, as holding the man down with one hand on the back of his neck, he searched the body. Removing a wallet, a compass, and a small bottle of water, before giving his balls a good squeeze that made the man let out a muffled yelp. His hands clenching in the muck.
"Fuck," I said as I pushed my mask to the top of my head and grabbed Alex's face. Pushing his mask up as well and being sure to place my knee of the back of our captive's arse, pushing him into the ground.
Ignoring the moans from below my knee, I pressed my lips to Alex's. "That's so fucking hot," I murmured against his lips.
"Jesus, get a room," was muttered from below me, and I pressed the mouthy little sod harder into the ground in response.
"What's so hot?" Alex asked, looking bemused.
"You, going all macho man."
He grinned and pulled his mask back down before doing the same to mine. "Keep your mask on you idiot. You'll lose an eye if someone sneaks up behind you," his voice was amused.
"Alex is always macho," Curtis commented, dragging the spare gun over as we allowed our captive to roll onto his back. I just grinned in response. He wasn't wrong. Tall, gorgeous, and the perfect mix of built and slender. That's my Alex. Doesn't hurt that he's a brainbox, the sweetest man, a strong brave heart, and enjoys taking pain as well.
Our captive pushed himself to a half sitting position against the crumbling wall and asked politely for his water. Mumbling a thank you when Alex passed it over.
What are we going to do with this one then?" I asked.
"Shoot him," Curtis shrugged casually and received a glare in response.
"I was thinking more of removing all his clothing and leaving him tied up for anyone happening by to use," I suggested and Alex chuckled as our captive, Chris, closed his eyes and moaned as his head banged lightly against the low wall.
"I think he likes that idea a little too much," Curtis said. Laughing when Chris grinned, his eyes still shut.
"And you know. That sort of thing might get us thrown out and never let back in," Alex advised. Absently rubbing his leg again and then cursing and wiping the yellow paint on a clean part of his jeans.
"We'll take his gun," I confirmed.
Alex frowned, "We can't use it. It's the wrong colour paint."
"Yea, but if one of ours jams we can swap the cartridge. And anyway, if we've got his gun he can't shoot us in the back."
Chris gasped and looked at me, affronted. "I would never do that," he declared.
"You were creeping up behind us," I pointed out, and he had the grace to look sheepish.
"Okay," Alex decided. "We'll take his gun, that's a good idea. In the meantime, let's tie his laces together in knots. We'll be long gone by the time he's sorted that out."
Curtis snorted out a laugh in agreement, and with Chris arguing that he would rather just wait and count to one thousand, and we could trust him, really, really, and Jesus, don't make the knots so tight, we made a huge mess of his laces and then crept away into the trees leaving him cursing behind us.
-X
Our mission was really quite simple. Get to the building at the centre of this muddy, bog infested forest. I was enthusiastic about this, as apparently there was hot coffee and the best carrot cake for a hundred miles.
The only problem was the other teams trying to kill us before we got there.
We were four teams of five. Curtis, Alex and I had been split up from the rest of our team, Kerry and Paul, when we had been ambushed by some bankers from the city. (Yes, I meant to type bankers...probably!)
These guys were so into this, they had their own gear and everything. They had been hidden in the undergrowth like fucking Marines. I nearly stepped on one guy.
Then all hell broke loose as yellow and blue paint started flying everywhere.
Alex got hit in the leg, which made him stumble, plus he's a big target, so me and Curtis grabbed him and dragged him deeper into the undergrowth.
I got a brief glimpse of Paul diving over a log, and Kerry standing, legs spread, and half screaming as he fired his blue pellets indiscriminately. But then, Will was in Maine and Kerry was missing him something fierce, which would explain the bad moodiness.
Whether Paul and Kerry survived, I had no idea.
The third team was actually a stag party who turned out to be squaddies. I mean, that really is an unfair advantage and you would think they would get tired of crawling around in the mud.
The final group consisted of Chris, John, Keira, Morgan Shey and Casey.
Clearly Chris had become separated, and he had a lot of bright pink paint on his arms. Not mortal, but his group must have come under heavy fire.
Pink, of course, was the colour that had been allocated to the squaddies.
I didn't hold out much hope for that team, but at least it had kept the army guys off our backs.
The most confusing thing about this whole enterprise really, was why the fuckity-fuck were we doing it in February?
Even as I thought this, my leg sank knee deep into a freezing boggy bit of ground.
"Fucks-sake," I muttered and Alex sniggered at me, before gripping my wrist and yanking me on to solid ground.
"My hero," I told him, before Curtis waved us down and we dipped again, giggling slightly. Watching through the undergrowth as a loan man walked almost silently towards the check in post we had been heading for.
To win, we had to hit at least three check in posts before approaching the central building. That's where it got dangerous, as other teams were heading via the same posts.
"Squaddie," I mouthed silently at Alex and Curtis, who nodded agreement. The way the man was moving, he was a professional for sure.
We all watched, our gazes no doubt slightly glazed, as hot solider guy headed for the check in post, on high alert.
He had large quantities of green paint on him, but no mortal wounds. Problem was, where were the rest of his team?
I narrowed my eyes. I didn't think there was anyone else around. The guy was too hyped up.
I nodded slightly to show Curtis and Alex that I was going to break cover, waiting until the man hit the check in button and was distracted before aiming centre mass.
He spun before I fired, some super instinct. My shot hit his torso and a side shot from Alex hit his chest.
He shrugged and grinned, raising his arms in a friendly wave. "Dammit, I was almost there," he complained in a soft call. Gentleman enough, not to give our position away to anyone close by.
We approached him as he grinned behind his mask. "Good job for you I'm out of paint," he told me.
"Where's the rest of your team?" I asked.
He grimaced, "Ah, you know the team that got the green," he asked, glaring at the paint on his arms.
"Yea, friends of ours," Curtis said.
"Ambushed us," he admitted. "We came across these two gorgeous girls. One had her boot off and was hobbling, the other tiny one trying to support her, so we rush in to help. Idiots, they shot the shit out of us!"
We were laughing. "That's Casey and Keira," I told him. "They played you!"
"They certainly did. I'm the only one got away."
We quickly hit the check in post and moved a few yards through the trees where the central building, and please God, coffee, was just ten yards away.
The squaddie, or Corporal Watson, call me Ed, agreed to hang back while we made our approach. It was possible the banker's or John's group were in the area. Although Ed was certain they had taken most of the bankers down before being ambushed by John's lot.
Still, we didn't want to get this close and blow it.
Alex covered me and Curtis as we moved as stealthily as we could towards the building, which seemed very quiet. No doubt our idea of stealth was like a herd of elephants compared to what Ed was used to.
I was a couple of feet from the ramp, about to make the final dash, when there was a thump on my back. I looked down to see green paint splattered on my arm.
"Shit!" I heard Curtis exclaim beside me and as I turned to look at him (also covered in green paint) I was nearly mown down by the blur that sped by me with a joyful, "You lose, suckers!"
I stood my mouth hanging open in shock as Alex clattered up the ramp and into the building.
Curtis started to laugh, digging into his pocket with a gasped, "Don't move. Don't say anything." As he dug his phone out from a pocket of his cargos and snapped a picture of me. Probably a blurry one as he was laughing so hard his hand was shaking.
"What the hell?" I asked no one in particular.
Ed sauntered up with Chris' gun. "He dropped this. Where'd it come from?"
"Prisoner," Curtis managed to gasp out, still pointing at me. "Isn't that that expression the very definition of gobsmacked?"
"He shot me in the back," I said stupidly. But there was a faint tickle in the back of my throat now.
"Your face!" Curtis was still howling.
"He shot me in the back. For CARROT CAKE," I bellowed the last bit. Because quite frankly, I was pissed off.
