War Games (m/m)

[David Han]

I’m nervous as I am walking up to my friend’s house. I’m 12 years old at this point of my life in 2002. I’m wearing a T-shirt, shorts, Adidas Shoes, and yellow socks. I knock on the door. My friend Dylan opens the door. He is 11. He is not wearing a shirt but he is wearing red pants, shoes, and socks. He shakes my hand and welcomes me inside.

This is where our games begin. We are into something called, Competitive War Games. It’s when we are tied up, after being chased down, and then is tormented. Each time we play, one person is the chaser and one person is the prey. We played every week since the 1st grade. Today, I am the prey right now.

I’m David. Dylan took my hand and guided me to his backyard. There is yellow duct tape on the ground. I step behind there. In his hand, Dylan is holding a water pistol. He sets a timer for 5 seconds. I am thinking of how to escape from him. He is thinking of how to tie me up. The timer goes off. I run.

He chases after me. I am panicking. In gym class, he was always faster than me on the run. This time is no different. He grabs my ankle and I trip. He has one arm behind my back. I get up quickly and escapes before he could get his rope out.

I run inside the house. He is screaming, “You will not get away”. I run up the stairs with him in full pursuit. No sooner did I step on the walkway to his section of the home did he body slams me. This time, he grabs both hands and pulls him harshly behind my back. I screamed. This was actually painful. A little bit not a lot. He ties my wrists behind my back. He sits on my ankles and squirts me on my toes with his water pistol. I have been defeated.

Dylan, you win. David, you are pretty good yourself but you overestimated me and that costs you a lot. Dylan starts tickling my feet. Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha. He comments that my laughter is cute and adorable. He enjoys tickling me. He plays this little piggy with my toes, wiggling each toe one at a time then tickles my bare feet. I am hollering very loud.

Dylan drags me into his bathroom across the bridge. He ties my ankles. He plugs in a hair dryer. Then, he turns it on and blows it on my feet. This was unexpected. My feet feels so warm. I start to feel very uncomfortable. He turns it off.

He rubs ice cubes he got from a bucket. He rubs it on my feet. It feels very cold and I grunt in agony. Gliding it up and down my soles, I felt very tormented. He glides up on my arches, heels, bottoms, and on my toes each one individually. I am making squeals noises. That is a different kind of torment known as sensation play. Dylan removes a blindfold out of my pants pocket. He puts it over my eyes.

Dylan picks me up. He lifts me high in the air. He carries me into his bedroom across the hall. He throws me onto the bed. He continues to tickle my feet. Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha. He unties me after one hour.

War Game 1 complete. Next time I am the chaser and he is the prey. The Arena is my house. Let’s do this.

[harveygasson]

Cool little story, I hope you write some more