Captured Commando

Postby sarobah » Sat Aug 02, 2008 2:34 pm

During the tomboy phase of my adolescence, my friends and I played commando-style games. There was a large area of bushland near my home where we would spend much of the summer. On occasion, we mustered as many as 15-20 players. We split into two teams, each attempting to capture the other’s flag. Sometimes we played paintball, but generally we just tagged each other – literally, with adhesive tags. I won’t go into the rules, except to say that an opponent could also be taken prisoner and avoid a “kill” tag; but that was rare because it meant taking your captive back to your base camp, giving away its location.

Unlike most of the players who operated in small squads, I preferred solo, relying on my own skills and resources. So I was the scout, and I became very good at concealment and camouflage. These came in handy the day I captured Vanessa. One of the girls who joined us now and then, she was tall and pretty. She would turn up for the game wearing brief shorts and a skimpy tank top – not exactly de rigueur for bush warfare; but she was the sort of girl for whom it was better to look good than to be dressed sensibly.

On this day, the weather was warm and humid. I was hot and sweaty in my fatigues, and I reviewed my opinion of Vanessa until I saw the scrapes and scratches on her bare arms and legs. She had become separated from her squad and was making her way back to her base; but she was following an open trail to avoid the prickly undergrowth. Lying in ambush, I bailed her up and announced she was my prisoner. I wasn’t surprised when she chose capture over tagging.

As she was almost a head taller than me, I insisted on tying her hands behind her back, to keep her under control. She was surprisingly compliant; and to avoid revealing our camp’s location, I decided on a blindfold as well. (Her only objection was when I used a large men’s handkerchief, which I kept for such contingencies. She asked plaintively, “You haven’t used it, have you?”) Of course, I became so wrapped up in my impromptu TUG that I lost my perspective. Saddled with a bound and blindfolded prisoner, I put myself in an exposed position.

I was guiding Vanessa along a narrow track, almost feeling sorry for her because she nearly tripped a couple of times, when I heard movement nearby. I pulled her to the ground, holding her down and forcing my hand over her mouth. After a few muffled protests, she went quiet and still. Being so much bigger than me, she could easily have pushed me away and broken free; but she remained passive.

When I determined the alarm to be false, I helped her back to her feet and back onto the trail. Suddenly, I found myself surrounded. I had blundered into a trap. My captors freed Vanessa, and her expression turned into a malevolent, vengeful grin. Our roles reversed, she applied the same rope and blindfold I had used on her. She volunteered for the job of getting me back to her base; and unlike mine, her luck held.

After stumbling blindly – literally – along the rough track, I was glad when we reached the camp. I was tied to a tree and, despite my best efforts, I never managed to escape. I spent the rest of the game as a prisoner, resisting interrogation despite methodical tickle-torture.

They had me tied in a sort of half-crouching position with my arms pulled up behind me, so that after a while my leg muscles started to cramp, and my arms and shoulders began to ache pretty badly. However, I was too proud to complain; and anyway, I thought I could more easily work myself free than if I had been bound standing upright against the tree trunk. I didn’t succeed, and throughout the day my so-called friends on the opposing team wandered into the camp, and taunted me. One of them was Jaz, who shortly before this had helped me produce my Escape Artiste act. Rather cruelly he teased: “Try getting out of this one.”

When my teammates rescued me at the close of play, I expressed the appropriate gratitude, but it was a bit disappointing that my “ordeal” was over. Not long afterwards, I started to develop girlie-girl tendencies and gave up Commando. That day wasn’t the only time it became a tie-up game, but it’s the one that evokes my fondest memories.

Postby sarobah » Mon Aug 04, 2008 12:36 am

DAK wrote:Great story!!! I plan on reading your others.

Thank you. I plan on writing more.
~ Sarah
Words, like Nature, half reveal and half conceal the soul within.

Size Difference

Postby bound-black-girl lover » Mon Aug 04, 2008 6:35 pm

I always love it when a larger woman/girl is over-powered by a smaller one [(and especially in this case when she is pulled to the ground and hand-gagged and remained "submissive" (not "passive")]!

Re: Size Difference

Postby sarobah » Mon Aug 04, 2008 7:46 pm

bound-black-girl lover wrote:I always love it when a larger woman/girl is over-powered by a smaller one [(and especially in this case when she is pulled to the ground and hand-gagged and remained "submissive" (not "passive")]!

We shorties abide by the motto, It’s not the size of the dog in the fight, it’s the size of the fight in the dog.
By the way, I used the word “passive” deliberately, as in being inert as well as submissive.
~ Sarah
Words, like Nature, half reveal and half conceal the soul within.

Postby qweasdzxc321 » Mon Aug 04, 2008 8:44 pm

Way to be prepared with a cloth to blindfold or gag your captive, whichever one you might need. :wink:

Postby sarobah » Mon Aug 04, 2008 11:51 pm

justintehgagger wrote:Way to be prepared with a cloth to blindfold or gag your captive, whichever one you might need. :wink:

Well, to be absolutely honest, the large handkerchief was for use as a bandage or bandana... but versatility is a virtue.
~ Sarah :gag:
Words, like Nature, half reveal and half conceal the soul within.

Postby tiemtite69 » Tue Aug 05, 2008 3:39 pm

Great stories, keep em coming.
more rope, more better