Date: Wed, 28 Jul 1999 21:27:01 -0700 (PDT)
From: Jackson Amacher <j_amacher@yahoo.com>
Subject: ST: Paintball-3 (authoritarian, outdoors)

V.

    We got to the Yellow camp about three minutes later. The entrance
had a big fence, with barbed wire and camouflage fabric to make it
impossible to see inside. Very impressive; better than what we had.

    The border guards immediately went for George. They tickled his
nipples and stoked his stomach. When they saw how his dick reacted to
that, they yukked it up and started giving George a hand job. They
stopped before he could cum, but they left him with a huge hardon. We
made him march into the camp that way. George's face and stomach were
beet red with humiliation.

    The Yellows didn't have a prison camp. They had about ten prisoners
total, each of them buck naked, gagged, and blindfolded. Each one was
tied spread-eagle between two wooden posts, unable to move his hands or
legs. Each of their dicks was dyed bright yellow. They were spaced
evenly around the camp. No two of them were close to each other, but
wherever you were, you could see most of them, and you were always
close to one. Most of them were Greens, but some were probably Browns.

    Seeing us, a team of two yellows trotted over to us, carrying some
thick rope.

    "Good catch, guys, this boy is a cutie. And ready to go, I see!,"
one of them said, slapping George's erect dick and watching it flop
back and forth. "We'll set him up for you. Which one of you gets first
crack at him?"

    I glanced at Steve.

    "Uh, he does," Steve said.

    "Great! Give us five minutes."

    We walked around the camp for a bit. It felt weird to be surrounded
by the enemy, pretending to be Yellow when underneath we were Green. We
avoided conversation, afraid that we would say the wrong thing and get
our asses kicked.

    Steve grabbed my arm and pointed. "Look," he whispered.

    There were Browns. Talking with Yellows. Not prisoners, either.
They were talking like old friends, like teammates.

    "An alliance," Steve whispered.

    Before I could answer, I heard a scream behind us. We turned, and
saw a naked green being tortured. They had closepins clamped down on
both nipples, and were turning them slowly. I looked at his anguished
face, and saw that it was Tyler, the guy who had helped me save George.

    "How many entrances to the Green camp?," his tormentors asked.
"Where are they?"

    Tyler told them to go to hell. They twisted the clamps some more,
and even put one on his dick, but he gave no answer. So, they untied
his feet, and put some green underwear on him. You could tell they
weren't his: they were about one or two sizes too small.

    "Holy shit," Steven whispered.

    They brought a bucket out, and seemed to be picking things up out
of it, pulling Tyler's waistband forward, and dropping stuff in. He
started shouting for them to stop, and shouted, "Take it out! Take it
out!"

    We inched closer. The bucket was filled with nightcrawlers and
earthworms. They also had a jar holding a huge spider with some kind of
colored marking on its back, and another jar holding a bunch of black
beetles, each an inch long or more.

    "We'd be glad to strip you again," one of the enemy tormentors said
to Tyler. "Just answer our questions."

    Tyler just swore at them, and despately swung his hips around,
trying to shake the worms out of his underwear. But the underwear was
too small, and the leg bands were too tight. He was helpless.

    "I think he's hungry," the other tormentor said. "Maybe after some
food, he'll talk."

    He unscrewed the beetle jar, and pulled one of the big ones out.
His friend forced Tyler's mouth open, and they threw the beetle inside
and then held Tyler's mouth shut.

    "Chew and swallow," they said. We could see Tyler's jaw move, and
then saw him grimace as his Adam's Apple bobbed up and down.

    I wanted to do something to help Tyler out, but there was nothing I
could do without blowing my cover.

    "Yo!," a Yellow called out to us. He was standing next to George. I
was expecting George to be tied spread-eagle like the other guys, but
instead they had his neck and wrists locked into a yoke, like in
Colonial Massachusetts.

    "Game time!," he shouted. A bunch of Yellows gathered in a circle
around George and me.

    "Here's your equipment," he told us, motioning to George. "You're
tonight's player?," he asked me.

    "Yeah," I said. I wondered what the hell was going on.

    Steve leaned over and whispered to me. "It's a sick game they have.
We learned about it from the Yellows we captured. Whoever can humiliate
a prisoner the most gets to skip his next patrol shift."

    "On your mark, get set, go!," the Yellow shouted, and stepped back.

    George looked at me with terror. I just smiled back.



    VI.

    I started out by walking over to George and running my finger under
his chin, lifting his head up to look at me. Without saying anything, I
unzipped my pants, took out my dick, and pointed at it.

    George bent down, trying not to hit me with the yoke. He took my
dick into his mouth, and began giving me a blowjob. Not quite as well
as he had done before, though.

    "You're no good at this, I said." I turned around, unbuttoned my
pants, and pushed them down about a foot, presenting my ass to George.
I was careful to hide the green band on my underwear.

    "Try it there," I said.

    George really wasn't too bright. He started by just licking my ass
cheeks.

    "No, George. Go inside," I said.

    The Yellows standing around us really whooped it up at that. I
guess no one had thought of that one before.

    I felt George's tongue enter my anus. I had to order him to stick
it in deeper. It felt incredible as he moved his tongue in and out. I
keep myself pretty clean there, but I guess he didn't enjoy it too
much. I reached around and slapped the top of his head, and he started
to go faster.

    I was coming close to orgasm and my dick was completely erect by
now, but I didn't want to end it yet. I pulled away from George, and he
collapsed to the ground. I told him to stay like that.

    I grabbed his legs, and put them on my shoulders, spreading them
pretty wide apart. George looked confused; he seriously didn't see what
was coming next.

    I rammed into him, face to face, with his legs bent up and back in
that V position. That position kept his ass pretty tight, and let me
look at him in the eye while I fucked him.

    Finally, I couldn't hold it off anymore, so I withdrew quickly and
came on the ground. George did the same.

    To top it all off, I rubbed my foot in the pools of semen, mixing
it with the dirt, and then held my boot up to George's face and made
him lick it off. George retched a few more times, but finished it off.
I had to hand it to him; the whole time, he didn't complain. It was
like he enjoyed it.

    I pulled my pants back up. The guys around us were cheering and
patting me on the back. I guess no one even wanted to try to top it
off.

    A yellow guy came up to Steve and I. "The name's Jack," he said.
"This one's too cute for the stockades. Mind if I borrow him for a
night as our barracks boy?"

    What kind of operation did these Yellows have? I was on the wrong
team.

    "Sure," I said.

    "Thanks," Jack said. "Feel free to come by."

    Jack grabbed George by the shoulders and forced him to march
towards into one of the tents.

    Steven and I watched George go. We knew no one would hurt him, but
we felt bad about letting them use him as a sex slave like that. Still,
there was nothing we could do.



    Trying not to be noticed, we walked around the camp a bit to see
what was going on. We saw that, unlike our camp, the yellows had a
secret weapon: a big bowie knife. They had a guy busily working away at
a big pile of tree branches, whittling the tips down to a sharp point
to make a pretty savage looking spear. He had a big pile of spears
already done.

    I noticed something else. The official that had come into the Green
camp yesterday and told us we had to let the prisoners keep their
underwear was in the camp here. Only he was wearing a yellow uniform.
They had stolen an orange official's uniform! I looked at the naked
prisoners in the stockades, and recognized one of them. These bastards
had actually captured an official, stripped him naked, and put him on
display. We were dead.



    VII.

    Steve and I learned that the Yellows, allied with the Browns, were
planning a full-scale attack on the Green camp tomorrow. We debated
running back to give them warning, but there was no way to get there in
time. Because of our disguise, we didn't have Green radios, either.
Plus, we didn't want to abandon George to spend the rest of the game as
a kept slave boy in a barracks full of hungry soldiers.

    We walked into the barracks that night to check up on George. When
we walked in, the place had about five Yellows in it. Most had taken
off their shirts, and two were down to their underwear, but none of
them were naked. George was standing in the middle of the barracks,
totally naked, with his hands at his sides. Another kid was standing
near him, pointing a sharpened spear at his back. At first I thought
the other kid was naked, too, but then I saw that he was wearing a
really tiny green loincloth, probably made from a torn pair of briefs.
It only barely covered his dick. I recognized the kid from the Green
camp. He was named John; we knew he got captured early on

    George was slowing bringing his hands together, covering up his
crotch.

    "None of that, pretty boy," John said. "Hands behind your head."

    George didn't move at first. But then John poked him in the back
with the spear, and George's hands shot up.

    "Hey guys," one of the Yellows said as we walked in, "thanks for
the loan. We're just about to get started. You want another shot at
him?"

    I shook my head, but Steve, to my surprise, said yes.

    "He's all yours," the Yellow said.

    Steve walked around George once or twice, looking at his naked body
up and down. Without saying anything, Steve unzipped his pants, took
out his fully erect cock, and jammed it into George's ass. The Yellows
started to cheer him on as he thrust in and out. If George was used to
this thing at all, he definitely wasn't used to taking it standing up
like that with his arms locked behind his head. He came close to losing
his balance once or twice. Steve took his sweet time with George,
pounding away at him for quite a while. None of us could take our eyes
off the scene. George clearly wasn't enjoying it at first, but
eventually we saw his dick perk up and a bright expression came up on
his face. Finally, Steve shouted out in orgasm. He pulled his dick out
of George, but immediately grabbed his head to prevent himself from
coming.

    "Turn around and kneel," Steve ordered. George obeyed.

    "Open wide," Steve said. George closed his eyes and opened his
mouth. Steve put the head of his cock in George's mouth and let go,
shooting his cum down George's throat.

    "Swallow that, and lick me clean," Steve ordered.

    George closed his mouth around Steve, and we could see him
obediently licking Steve's cock clean. Steve pulled his dick out of
George's mouth and patted him on his head.

    "Good job, boy," Steve said, like he was talking to a dog.

    The Yellows took George and laid him face down on a lower bunk, and
then tied him spread eagle to the four posts. One of them took out a
tube of lube, squeezed out a glob, and spread it over George's helpless
anus.

    "Okay, guys," the Yellow said. "Should the urge grab you, he's
ready to go."

    None of them fucked George right away. A few walked by and gave him
a spank or tossed his hair, but most stripped down to their underwear
and just went to bed. Steve and I did the same, picking beds that
weren't too far from George. Steve was able to go to sleep right away,
but I couldn't. Every hour or so, some horny guy would wake up, walk
over to George, and start fucking his ass. Finally, about the time it
was dawn, they stopped.



    VIII.

    The next morning, Steve and I had a quick private talk. We had
found out more than enough information about the Yellow camp, and we
were worried that sooner or later we'd be found out. We decided our
best course would be to get ourselves assigned to a patrol, and then
just split. We'd take George with us if we could, but if we couldn't,
so be it.

    But before I went, I wanted to take advantage of one last benefit
the Yellows enjoyed. During a paintball game you don't shower every
day, of course, but it had been a couple days for me, and after
yesterday's action I was literally itching to get myself cleaned up.
All three camps had showers, of course, but the ones we had in the
Green camp were always being used.

    The Yellow camp had a shower cabin off to the south side of the
camp. It was a nice setup, with a small locker room and a big tiled
common shower room with eight shower heads.

    I walked over to the shower cabin, nodded at the guard posted
outside, and walked in. Picking a locker, I stripped down and put my
clothes inside, taking care to make sure no one noticed my green
underwear band.

    There were seven other guys taking showers, so I took the last
shower head. The other guys were really impressive looking. They all
had great biceps and chests, and some of them had really nice abs. The
guys across the room from me were facing away from me, so I had a great
view of their V- tapered backs and nice tight asses. I squeezed some
soap from the dispenser in the wall and began to lather up.

    Suddenly, I heard a loud popping noise. It came from outside the
shower cabin. The eight of us froze: it was the sound of a paint gun
firing. There was shouting, and we heard boots stomping.

    "Shit!," one of the guys shouted, and turned off his shower. He
started to run towards the lockers, but he was too late.

    About ten greens, fully uniformed and armed with paint rifles,
marched into the shower room and blocked our escape. There was a lot of
panic and confusion. I saw a flurry of naked butts running away from me
and flopping penises and balls running towards me as my "fellow"
Yellows tried to escape, but it was too late.

    "Showers off! Turn the fucking water off!," one of the Greens
shouted. I couldn't remember his name, but I knew he was some sort of
commander. Green soldiers trotted over to the faucets to turn off the
few showers that were still on.

    "All right you naked shriveled pricks, get on the floor now, face
down, before we plant paint balls in your rectums for fun!," the
commander shouted.

    Quickly, I looked around to see if I knew any of the Greens so that
I could tell them that I was really one of them. To my relief, I saw
three: Ted, Jed, and James. I had been on missions with all three.
James was closest, so I took a walk towards him.

    "Guys, it's me, Nate--" I began, but before I could finish James
pushed me down onto the hard tile floor.

    "On the floor, Yellow cocksucker!," he shouted.

    Someone grabbed my arms and tied my wrists together. I glanced up
and saw that Green soldiers were doing the same to the other seven
"yellows."

    A couple of the other guys started shouting for help. The Greens
didn't take kindly to that at all. Within seconds, soldiers produced
wadded-up Yellow briefs from our locker room and jammed them into their
mouths. In the madness of it all, I realized that my Green underwear
could prove that I was one of them. But when James came to me holding
my Green briefs, he paused for a second, stuck them into his pocket,
and jammed some socks into my mouth instead.

    That bastard, I thought. He knew I was a Green, but he was going to
take me as a naked prisoner anyway,

    Bound, gagged, and completely helpless, they forced us to stand.

    "Now guys, I know how this looks," the commander said. "And let me
assure you, there's nothing perverted like this. If you all cooperate
and do what we tell you, we won't lay a hand on you and you'll all get
your pants back as soon as we're out of your camp." I didn't believe a
fucking word he was saying, but I kept listening.

    "Sprint for the woods," the commander said. "The border is only
twenty yards away, and we've taken care of the guards. If you run fast
and don't try anything funny, no one will see you naked. Now, move!"

    The guards gave us a quick spank on the butt to get us moving. Like
sheep, we obediently sprinted for the border. I watched as those tight
ass cheeks clenched and unclenched with each pace, and the dicks and
balls around me bounced unrestrained. I was terrified, but also highly
turned on.

    We got into the woods, and it didn't look like anyone had seen us
or was going to rescue us.

    "Keep running," a Green soldier instructed us, motioning down the
trail. We sprinted about thirty more yards, and came to a small cabin
with windows. The Yellows used these as border guard stations.

    The Green soldier opened the door to the cabin and held out his
arm, pointing at the eight of us.

    "Get in," he said.

    We looked into the cabin. It wasn't more than five feet by five
feet. But the first thing we noticed was that there was a Yellow guard
there, stripped naked and tied to the light fixture hanging from the
ceiling. He was even more helpless than we were.

    "What the fuck are you waiting for? Get your scrawny naked bodies
in there," the Green guard shouted at us.

    Four of them went in. The fifth one had some trouble, because there
was so little room. Then I went in. Rubbing against these guys was
inevitable; you had to squeeze past their muscular frames just to
stand. The other three guys squeezed in.

    "Sit tight and don't make a sound," the Green guard said. "We'll
collect all of you for the trip home once we regroup from our attack."

    Then, he paused, as if he just remembered something.

    "Oh, by the way," he said. "We could never have caught you if your
border guard hadn't screwed up." Then the Green guard shut the door,
locked it, and trotted away.

    It was crowded as hell in there, but we could still see the border
guard hanging in the center of the cabin. He was gagged too, like the
eight of us, and had this desperate look in his eyes like he was
denying that it was his fault that our asses were in Green hands. That
alone was enough to completely piss us off.

    The guy standing in front of him turned around so that his hands
could reach the border guard's nads. He grabbed his balls and gave them
a squeeze. The border guard jumped in pain, and knocked the guy
standing behind him backwards. That guy fell towards me, and his hands
and butt brushed my own nearly-erect dick. He caught himself, and took
a step towards the border guard. From where I was standing, I couldn't
be sure, but it seemed like he started to rub his dick against the
guy's ass. The border guard started shouting into his gag, so I guess
probably something more was going on.

    They left us like that for a long time. We were all still wet from
the showers. If you tried to move, you immediately brushed up against
some other guy's slippery dick or ass--it was that crowded. That many
naked male bodies together generated a lot of heat, and the cabin's
windows were fogged in. The smell of the sweat, the wood cabin, and the
ropes binding our hands was in combination very sexy.

    We heard footsteps coming towards the door, and it flew open. The
Greens shouted at us to get out of the cabin, and we did. Pointing guns
and spears at us, they forced us to trot away from the Yellow camp. In
the confusion, I didn't get to look around much.

    After a few minutes of running, all of us came to a halt. There was
no way the Yellows would be able to come rescue us now.

    "Prisoners, stand at attention!," the Green commander shouted.

    We all stood straight, chests out. They made us line up, hip to
hip, so that they could take us all in with one glance. It was really
uncomfortable and humiliating to have them leering at our naked bodies
like that. For the hundredth time that day, I tested the strength of
the ropes that kept my hands behind my back.

    For the first time I got a look at the Greens. That gave me a
shock. There was the original ten that had raided our shower cabin,
plus two other guys. Both were naked. One was George, my former slave.
This Green raid had been more than a mission to take us prisoner; it
was a jail break, too.

James reached into his pocket, took out my green briefs, and handed
them to George. George thanked him, and quickly put them on. Bastards!,
I thought. My last chance at proving I was a Green until I got back to
camp was now clinging to George's tight ass. The Greens gave George
some Yellow pants and a T-shirt, both turned inside out to hide the
colored checks. Wearing clothes for the first time in a day or two,
George walked over to us.