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TftR: Escape Challenge (when Stuart met Kaiden) (M/M) - *08.12.24 COMPLETE (FOR NOW)*

Stories that have little truth to them should go here.

Who's going to come out top in this escapology challenge?

Stuart - he's the real deal
1
7%
Kaiden - he's got the measure of Stu
6
40%
Both - some kind of stalemate
1
7%
Neither - a more interesting kind of stalemate
4
27%
Richard - it's his universe, he's bound to make an appearance
3
20%
 
Total votes: 15

Straitjacketed
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Post by Straitjacketed »

CaptiveDan wrote: 5 months agoI love escape challenges, and especially when someone is properly bested! I loved how you methodically went through every usual way someone can escape (fingers, teeth, even toes) and showed that in this bondage that would be impossible. His realizations that he was more and more trapped was so hot
You're 100% speaking my language: while I love the various trappings of bondage, the biggest turn-on of all is a captor/top with the right combination of efficiency and fiendishness, a guy who knows his tools and knows how to use them!

Stu is, I imagine, similar - and about to realise it... ;)
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If M/M overkill bondage in stupidly excessive amounts of gear is your thing as well as mine, here's a list of my TUG stories.
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Post by Straitjacketed »

Tales from the Richardverse: Escape Challenge (when Stuart met Kaiden) - part 6 FINALE!

(Co-written with @DeeperThanRed)

Stu
I’ve never had a classic out-of-body experience - I don’t believe in souls without bodies, I’ve never experienced the cliché of being up in the corner of the room looking down on surgeons trying to jump-start my heart - but my self-induced escape artist dissociation is probably somewhere in the same ballpark: it’s an attempt to screen out sensory distractions, to float mentally above the corporeal clamour long enough to make a calm analysis of my options.

That calm, analytical mind-state is gone. It’s as if a hypnotist has snapped his fingers, uttered “back in the room” and yanked me, immediately, into the familiar squirming, sweaty reality of the situation.

Situation? It’s a full-on predicament.

Okay, some context. I don’t entirely know why I started doing escapes. I know there’s an endorphin rush similar to a really good gym work-out and that the triumphant thrill of escaping my bonds - after a struggle - is virtually sexual.

I mean, hell, maybe it is my sexuality…

That, I guess, is why I’ve always picked challengers who I could easily defeat, whose ideas were basic or poorly executed - too basic or poorly executed for my combination of Houdini tricks, slipperiness and brute strength.

This, however, is a first. You have lured me, step by step, into a state of abject helplessness. Wrenching angrily again, I’m forced to concede that although there’s some minor “settling” here and there, your set-up is easily proving its worth. Every knot, buckle and strip of tape is well-applied, tight and resistant to my efforts.

Not only have you contained and neutralised all the tools that would usually aid my escape - fingers, teeth, toes, vision, hearing - but you’ve added a host of “insult to injury” elements to distract and infuriate me: the bite of rope into my neoprene-imprisoned crotch (with every yank at my hands or feet), the sounds of leathered suffering in my ears and, more than anything, the inescapable musk of you coating my nose and throat.

Everything I can see, hear, smell, touch and taste has been decided and controlled by you - and beyond my wrapped, trapped, taped and muffled senses, at least one camera is running, relaying my humiliation to thousands…

Under white tape, my cheeks burn crimson but humiliation and frustration are combining in my head into a sort of potent bondage soup that leaves me…

… horny.

Like some rogue, malfunctioning feedback loop, the building frustration at my inability to escape only adds to my arousal.

Shocked but somehow unsurprised, I flash back through my escapology influences: Houdini, obviously, circus escapes, street performers and, further back, television, films, books and comics where adventurers, superheroes and cowboys got themselves captured, kidnapped, trussed, gagged and hogtied.

For perhaps the first time, it occurs to me that in every one of those early, formative scenarios, as well as the bound-and-gagged captive, there was a captor, the black-hatted cattle rustler, the sinister (and outrageously accented) Nazi, the moustache-twirling supervillain doing the tying. Sometimes - usually - the hero escaped.

Sometimes the hapless hero didn’t escape and had no option but to lie there, neatly bundled and packaged up, tense and seething but unable to do anything about his circumstances other than resent his gloating captor’s deviousness and efficiency.

I think of the times the villainous captor rubbed salt in the wound by mocking or teasing his luckless prisoner, compounding his humiliation.

I don’t know why this all makes me so horny but it does. Sweat beads my back, my neoprene pelvis grinds harder into the bed and then, suddenly, your hand is

right

where

it

NEEDS to be.

And, in a moaning, muscle-clenching rush, I climax.

Kai
Sensory deprivation is a two-way street.

On the one hand, it allows a dom near-absolute control over their sub, as one can’t do anything to object when they can’t even perceive what their captor doesn’t want them to.

On the other hand, it’s an immense responsibility for any responsible dom and the only reason I’m comfortable with pushing you to your limits is my experience and the (maybe conceited) assumption that I have a good idea about the escape artist persona from your videos.

What I overlooked was how little you and I knew each other.

When I started teasing you, I know that you had an erection. This isn’t surprising or noteworthy by itself as even straight guys can get hard in my hands when the blood flows to the right places.

Though, I should have observed you more carefully. The way you writhed in the ropes, how you tested your crotch ropes more than strictly necessary, how… well, how much I’m into you.

I can call this control rush or objectify your trussed-up body all I want but your bullet-head determination to free yourself makes me want to lay my challenges hard on you. That’s not a reaction I give to the men I’m not into.

It must be this abandon that caused me to miss how the tip of your ears blush or your breathing become irregular as my grasp on your ass pushed you over the edge.

For a second, I didn’t get why you shake and moan so hard only to slump down in a muffled, content whine. Thankfully, I’m used to improvising.

Quickly, I turn to the camera and with my biggest fake grin, say: “And with that, the Great Studini comes to the end of his allocated time,” hoping the audience to forget that we didn’t set a time limit. “It’s still a terrific try so don’t go hard on him! Let’s get him out of this!”

With that, I end the stream and check my phone. Of course, my kinky mutuals are immediately suspicious about you, more than a few asking whether you came or passed out. I quickly type a reply to assure them you’re fine and closed my phone.

So… now what? I didn’t mean to make you cream your neoprene unitard and one part of me is scared that I pushed you into doing something you’re not comfortable doing with another guy. What if you are angry with me?

Man up, I say to myself. Go check your captive before feeling sorry for yourself.

I rush to your side, my safety scissors working a mile per second. I peel the tape off from around your ears and hogtie, taking the muzzle and earplugs off.

After checking your circulation and breathing, both of which seem fine, I hold your chin and look to your (blindfolded) eyes.

“Stuart, the challenge is over. Sorry, I didn’t want people to notice how you, uh, climaxed there. Though some of them might be got suspicious.” I take a deep breath and speak slowly, giving you time to nod or shake your head appropriately.

“Look, do you want to have a break? You’ve been going on for a while. If you’re uncomfortable, I can also just untie you and leave. Or…” my eyes are drawn to the rope wedgie between your buttocks. “If you liked this, I can go on. The choice is yours.”

I hold my breath and wait for your reply.


Stu
Did I call this "bondage soup"? Having come to the boil, I now simmer gently in a... what, "neoprene bisque"?! The analogy is ridiculous and, even taped, bound and gagged as thoroughly as I am, I manage a chuckle (albeit a nasal one).

I've never been in the situation of having to have the restraints removed by another person - in this case literally cut from my ears, feet, gag, hogtie - and find myself washed by a mix of emotions. Relief, certainly, and the creeping worry of having my humiliation broadcast but also, weirdly, a minor key of loss, like the sudden chill of emerging from a warm bath or bed.

I realise that part of me enjoyed the physicality of struggle, the sense of helplessness, even the piquancy of humiliation, and is sorry my explosive reaction has brought my predicament to an end.

"Stuart, the challenge is over. Sorry, I didn't want people to notice how you, uh, climaxed there. Though some of them might be suspicious."

Ahh, so you ended the livestream. That means I still have an online career - even if I have to eat a liiiiittle bit of humble pie. I can live with that. Maybe I can make a feature of it.

"Or... if you liked this, I can go on. The choice is yours."

I lick my lips, nervously. Am I ready, having just admitted to myself that failing to escape was more exciting than escaping, to admit it to another person? A captor of the type whose efficiency and "now get out of that, Houdini" villainous gloating I now realise I've eroticised since childhood?

In its damp confines, I can feel my cock starting to stir again at the thought of being In Your Clutches.

I flash the purest, sunniest, most blissful of smiles. And then I'm back in The Great Studini role, the escape artist surprised to be brought low in a challenge, confidence dented but desperate to claw back some credibility. Still competitive, still keen to win.

"I can go on. I can take whatever you throw at me!"

I shrug as best I can in my only part-released state.

"Best of three?"

The end? For now...
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If M/M overkill bondage in stupidly excessive amounts of gear is your thing as well as mine, here's a list of my TUG stories.
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Post by Straitjacketed »

I've enjoyed posting this little bit of exposition on Stu and Kai's relationship. If you like their dynamic and want to see it develop, let me know!

For now, this and the other TftR backstory have reached a natural pause in the narrative. If you like my and @DeeperThanRed's co-writing, you might want to get on board early with something completely different, our pastiche of Robert E Howard's 'Conan' fantasies, Caverns & Captives - or you might prefer a more modern-day scenario with a different collaborator, Raincoating.
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If M/M overkill bondage in stupidly excessive amounts of gear is your thing as well as mine, here's a list of my TUG stories.
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Post by Straitjacketed »

Oh, and well done to everyone who worked out - correctly - that Kaiden was fully capable of subduing Stu!
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If M/M overkill bondage in stupidly excessive amounts of gear is your thing as well as mine, here's a list of my TUG stories.
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Post by gag1195 »

"Best of three"... sounds like two more times that poor Studini won't be getting out. (Because let's face it, Kai isn't going to stop when Stu fails the second time...)

Another great story! Again, I am definitely looking forward to more of Stu and Kai!
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Post by Windrunner »

GREAT story. I love, love, love getting into the details of exactly how someone is tied up and blindfolded, and you do it amazingly well!
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Post by _zin_ »

Kai really out did himself! What a thorough hog tie and gagging. The detail of Stu's escape attempts, as well as, Kai's observations are fantastic. Especially enjoyed how Stu is trying to keep frustration at bay while concentrating on finding weaknesses to exploit while dismissing the audible and olfactory distractions paired with pleasurable struggling sensations. I'm glad I finally made it back to finish reading this story!
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