Stories of Tie Up Games

Have you ever looked at a couple - especially a kink couple - and wondered how they met?

If you’re familiar with the collaborative stories I’ve co-written with @DeeperThanRed , you’ll be aware that they take place in the same shared universe – which we’ve decided to call the Richardverse because a) the burly redhead has appeared in all of them, and b) he probably has a severe enough case of Main Character Syndrome to find that nomenclature most fitting!

We saw Richard hook up with his spicy boyfriend Lance in Nine Circles and again in Lust in France and, more recently, he was the titular Svengali of The Dungeon Master. What perhaps wasn’t apparent was that the other two couples taking part in that ill-fated D&D game – Stuart & Kaiden and Mateo & Julian – also had fleshed-out backstories.

Here, then, ARE those backstories! This one features escape artist Stu’s first encounter with challenger Kaiden. As with its companion tale, this account started off as a back-and-forth role-play between two writers of kink, with plot development less important to us than exploring the characters' reactions to specific bondage situations – maybe a little more introspective than usual but we hope at least some of you enjoy reading this stuff as much as we enjoyed writing it.

As ever, my parts of the narrative are in default font, @DeeperThanRed's are in red.


Tales from the Richardverse: Escape Challenge (when Stuart met Kaiden)

(Co-written with @DeeperThanRed)

Stuart:
Short, dark brown hair, pale complexion, clean-shaven (shows stubble quickly) with grey/green eyes; tall and well-built but with muscle gained naturally from playing sports, diving, etc. Single-minded and rather kink-naïve. Part-time motorcycle courier and amateur escape artist (sometimes jokingly refers to himself as “Studini”).

Kaiden:
Dark blond hair, brown eyes. About as tall as Stu but more of a runner's build with leaner muscles and a healthy tan. Quietly confident. Travel blogger and rope hobbyist who claims ability to tie an “inescapable bond”.

---

Stu
Am I a modern-day Houdini? Hah no, I wouldn’t say that – the guy was a genius, right? – but I wouldn’t say I’m a beginner either. For me, escapology always seemed like an extension of the other sports I’m into – and good at – with the added element of challenge: it isn’t just about physical but mental strength too, not just endurance but a particular sense of cunning, it’s about developing little tricks, techniques to misdirect and outwit the other guy.

There’s a basic set of skills, first laid out by the man himself, and I’ve learned those skills: I know how to expand my muscles when being tied (so when I relax them, the rope loosens enough for me to wriggle free), I can use lockpicks to open simple cuffs and locks and I can get out of a gaffed straitjacket (one specifically designed or altered for escape artist shows, usually with front and side loops removed) or even an authentic one if the person strapping me in is a newbie who doesn’t know what he’s doing.

Actually, that’s the single best piece of advice for anyone starting up as an escape artist: try to pick challengers who are enthusiastic but unskilled in applying restraints. Given that tying-up is hardly mainstream, that’s pretty much everyone!

A little while ago, I began recording my escapes and posting them online – and was pleasantly surprised to find there was and is a market for that. The most popular videos, by far, were those where someone issues me a challenge – usually a hyped-up claim that “no way will you escape what I put you in” – I meet up with that someone, they rope me and I get loose, usually in less time than they took to tie me.

I've done well so far, winning all my challenges - mainly because I agree general terms beforehand and weigh the odds in my favour by choosing challengers who lack basic experience. My fanbase is starting to grow and although some of the commenters say I’m getting cocky, I disagree. The truth is: I can escape from pretty much anything my challengers throw at me.

That's how I meet you, Kaiden! From your introduction, you seem the perfect mix of eager and amateur, right up my street. In response to your “inescapable bond” claim, I drop you the dryest of emails:

Please outline the terms of your challenge.

Kai
I’m often underestimated and that suits me just fine. Those familiar with my public persona have no idea I’m a sought-after rigger, capable of bringing down unruly subs far larger than my looks might suggest. I know a lot of ways to tie intricate rope bondage, and I enjoy adding “distractions” to make things harder for my captives…

Having discovered your videos, I want to knot some sense into you. I know your game and I know how to reel you in. In my email, I characterise myself as a hobbyist, crafting my wording to appear naïve but throwing in the intentionally overblown claim that I can trap you in an “inescapable bond”. If that isn’t intriguing enough, I lower the odds in your favour:

Honestly, you don't actually need to escape. All you need to do is to remove the gag I'll put into your mouth and say, "I win". I'll even let you choose the gag. If you accept these conditions, we can meet up – next weekend?

Stu
I'm definitely intrigued by your challenge. The language - tying, bonds, knots - suggests rope and I'm pretty confident with rope. I'm sure I can wriggle free sufficient to undo a gag. Not every challenger opts for one but enough have done that I'm now reasonably practised in dislodging tape and cloth even without the use of my hands, especially if I can work up an adhesive-loosening sweat!

And getting to choose my own gag? Seems too good to be true.

It's only at the point of pressing Send that it occurs to me to wonder whether you’re going to restrict my gag options or whether I really could specify "fabric only", "tape only" or the like. I also add - somewhat belatedly – I’m into fitness but much as I enjoy showing off, I don't do naked escapes! Anything you specifically want me to wear?

I'm sure I won't need it in this case, but I always like to have a tiny, concealed blade on me for emergencies and I need to decide where to hide it...

Kai
I was beginning to think that my message was lost among the other fan emails, or you were simply scared – and then I got your reply. My excitement is surprising to me, it's been a while since a play date made me this excited: I'm eager to see if this guy can walk the walk.

I’ve already thought long and hard about the ways I can tie you up, but I didn't expect him to pre-emptively discuss clothing. I reply, along with the date and the address of the hotel I booked - I don't want your clothing to get in the way, wear anything you want but be ready to strip to your undies.

With that out of the way, I call a kinkster friend of mine – a devious old sod by the name of Richard – and ask to borrow some stuff. I don't want to scare you off, but it wouldn't hurt to have some toys I can use if the need arises. Finally, all that's left is to wait.

Also, in preparation for our meeting, I start wearing the same gym clothes. Just in case...

To be continued...

Rivals to lovers is such a great little trope! I cannot wait to see the challenge that Kai sets for the great Studini!

Excited to see what the challenge is here. I can't imagine at the moment...

Oh, I'm so excited for this!

Thanks to those of you who've voted in the poll and/or commented: @gag1195, @blackbound and @KidBlink. I'm also going to tag people who previously commented on Richardverse stories and who I think might like this one (if you want to be untagged in these updates, just let me know): @Guardianbound, @KidnappedCowboy, @Windrunner, @Wedgieboy69, @_zin_, @CaptiveDan, @Bradstick and @Croup.

Conversely, if you do want to be tagged when I update these stories, drop a comment!


Tales from the Richardverse: Escape Challenge (when Stuart met Kaiden) - part 2

(Co-written with @DeeperThanRed)

Stu
The evening before our meeting, I summarise what I do and don't know about your challenge.

On the plus side, you've mentioned a hotel: if that's where the challenge is happening (and it's not a disused hotel or some such) then I know there's going to be other people in the building. I also have at least some sense of location; I know we're going to be in a fairly predictable room with a bed, standard furniture and I'm unlikely to be surprised by any bizarre restraint contraptions. God knows what I'd do if someone produced stocks or a pillory or something! I like my challengers interested but inexperienced: you described yourself as a "hobbyist”, so I decide you fall into that category.

Downsides? Underwear, damn it!

I decide to try and get away with stretching the definition of "undies" to a one-piece garment I bought to emulate the bathing suits Houdini used to wear when he did underwater escapes. Mine is in lightweight neoprene and I altered it to add a little internal pocket on the inside of the lower edge. The pocket can't be detected unless the suit is examined really closely but is just large enough to hold a tiny blade within reach of my right hand.

Hedging my bets, I decide to bring a lock-pick also, a thinner strip of metal like a flattened, straightened paper clip. Usually, I conceal it in the cuff of my shirt but I'm going to have to be more creative. I use a small piece of skin-coloured wax to fix it in a curve behind my right ear. Later, if I need it, I can dislodge it from there.

The day of our meeting dawns fair and sunny, and I decide to travel there on my motorcycle. I zip my black bike leathers up over the neoprene bathing suit, don gloves and boots and finally my helmet before grabbing my 'phone and fold-up tripod and setting off for the address you've given.

As I ride, I think back to the "choose your gag" twist. I know I can unstick a strip of duct tape from over my mouth. If tape is an option, maybe I should go for that?

After parking my bike, I take a little time to scope out the address and try to get a general vibe. When we meet ("Heyyy Kaiden – Kai? – my fearsome challenger!"), I try to get a sense of you, of your angle. "You're cool with me filming this, yeah?" On pretext of choosing the best place to set up my tripod and fiddling with the video settings on my 'phone, I have a good look around the room. Any clue as to what you've got in store for me? Bags, boxes of gear? I'm hoping for rope, nice, chunky, heavy-duty rope, the kind that looks dramatic as hell but is actually too thick to hold proper knots.

I partially unzip my heavy leathers to show you the neoprene bathing suit. "My homage to Houdini," I smile, "underwear, right?"

Kai
On the promised day, I wait in the hotel lobby to welcome you. I want you to underestimate me a little, so I’m wearing a baggy hoodie and some skinny jeans and sneakers. Underneath, I have the same jock and socks I wore throughout the whole week which gathered quite some sweat.

When I see you, I almost start swooning. Taller than me, fit, and looking good in leather? This guy is a sure keeper. I’m already thinking of ways to keep you when today’s challenge ends. Wait, are you even into guys?

Either way, I keep my cool and chat with you as I would with any outwardly straight guy, complimenting your bike leathers with a simple "Looking sharp, man." To ease you into the scene, I give you a brief tour around the room: There's nothing much other than a heavy chair, a headboard consisting of sturdy bars, and a writing desk. My stuff is in a large backpack and duffel bag, the latter which I introduce to you as "just a change of clothes".

After donning a simple black cloth facemask so my identity isn’t too obvious, I accept being filmed and help you place the tripod before showing you your options. Then you strip to a damn unitard! Unfortunately, it's a practical one rather than the skimpier versions I enjoy but it still fits your body perfectly. "I can't deny that it's underwear," I laugh. "You don't wear anything inside, do you?" Unnecessary, I can see that you don't.

"Here are the choices for your gag, by the way," I open my bag. "The walls in this place are pretty thick but better safe than sorry. You can choose anything you want but it's up to me how to use it."

Your options are: a roll of white microfoam tape, a bundle of thin, red bondage rope, a padlocked ball gag, a similar panel gag, a stack of colorful bandannas, and finally, a muzzled head harness.

I smile innocently and wait for you to make the choice I predict.

Stu
Fuck. Whatever I'd expected in the contents of your bag, it wasn't that selection. Hell, I don't even recognise everything in there.

I ought to review my first impression of you... but I don't.

Keeping the surprise off my face, I make a show of picking up and examining each object in turn, doing my best to assume an expression of serious professional detachment (and ignoring the occasional intrigued stirring in the depths of my neoprene suit).

White tape: I haven't come across this variety, but it can't be too different from duct tape, right? Probably the safest option, escape-wise.

Thin red rope: were you thinking of using this to gag me?! I've never been gagged with rope but, instinctively, I'm wary of this type. It looks like it'd pull and knot tight and be a bastard to unpick. I'm hoping this was only an option for the gag and you're going to tie me with something easier to work loose.

Ball gag: I'm aware this is a kink thing; it seems like it wouldn't be too hard to dislodge but I don't like the look of that padlock. I reckon I could pick it; I'm not so sure about trying to use my lock-pick on something at the back of my head.

Panel gag: looks like it'd be harder to work free and there's that same issue with the lock.

Bandannas: I've had my mouth stuffed with hankies before and these don't look too bad... except there's a stack of the damn things...

Muzzle: I can't immediately make sense of all the straps but when I realise how it all buckles together, I'm fascinated. I sense it's one of those contraptions that looks intimidating but maybe isn't too hard to remove. I don't see any padlocks and I reckon all I'd need to do is rub my head against something at the correct angle to lever a strap loose from its buckle. It might even be easier than tape.

"Six interesting options," I say, stalling for time, "If I had dice, I'd be tempted to make a roll..."

I pause dramatically.

"... buuut I think I'm going to go for tape. Good old-fashioned tape."

To be continued...

Probably should've gone with the ball. Unless strapped in incredibly tightly or augmented with other aids, I feel like they're more decorative/humiliating - depending on whether "not in mouth, but still around neck" counts for the challenge.

blackbound wrote: 7 months ago Probably should've gone with the ball. Unless strapped in incredibly tightly or augmented with other aids, I feel like they're more decorative/humiliating - depending on whether "not in mouth, but still around neck" counts for the challenge.

Stu is somewhat kink-naive and likely - at this stage - hadn't experienced actually wearing a ball gag.

It's incredibly hot that Kai is already thinking about trying to keep Stu restrained long term! And his impressive collection of gags is also very hot! At the risk of a twist, I probably would have gone with the rope. Any escape artist worth his salt should be able to undo a knot, even one at the back of his head. Poor Stu doesn't know what he's getting into with the microfoam tape...

This is great! I am eager to learn how Kai plans to challenge Stu. And of course how Stu struggles to escape. Or not! Thanks for tagging me.

Thanks, as ever, to those of you taking the time to vote in the poll and/or comment: @gag1195, @blackbound and @KidBlink. I'm also tagging people who previously commented on Richardverse stories and who I think might like this one (if you want to be untagged in these updates, just let me know): @Guardianbound, @KidnappedCowboy, @Windrunner, @Wedgieboy69, @_zin_, @CaptiveDan, @Bradstick and @Croup.

Conversely, if you do want to be tagged when I update these stories, drop a comment and let me know!


Tales from the Richardverse: Escape Challenge (when Stuart met Kaiden) - part 3

(Co-written with @DeeperThanRed)

Kai
Hook, line, and sinker. I make my best impression of being disappointed. "Shoot, I thought I'd have a chance to try the stuff I bought." Tapping the bed, I invite you to lie down. "But either way, there's still time for that. Face down, if you please."

Laying on your front not only makes it harder for you to gain leverage from the soft bed, but you also have less chance to see what I'm doing. Your cute butt in that bathing suit is also a nice bonus. But just to be safe: "Before tying you up, do you mind if I blindfold you? It won't make a difference in the strength of the bonds, but you'll have fewer clues to go from."

I take the roll of tape, rip a long strip from it and bring it close to your eyes. "Unless you’re scared, of course." I actually mean to use the rope on you but the last thing I want is to raise your suspicion while bringing out the... stronger gear.

Stu
Heh, seems the safe choice was the right choice!

I congratulate myself, mentally, on having avoided being tempted into potential pitfalls, unknown quantities. I know a combination of sweat and persistent face-rubbing is enough to unstick tape.

I lie face-down, feeling only a little bit vulnerable. Most challengers want hands-behind and I figure you're making it a little easier on yourself, tying me at bed level.

Your suggestion of a blindfold surprises; no-one so far has suggested my eyes be covered and I know not being able to see will put me at a disadvantage. The way you've phrased it, though - "unless you're scared" - I can hardly say no. Not on camera.

"Sure," I shrug. It's only a strip of tape. How hard can that be?

Kai
I smile and stick the tape over your eyes, smoothing it to make sure it sticks. After that, I stick a few more strips over it and then wrap a couple of rounds around your head, over your blindfold and ears. "Don't worry, the first round is the non-sticky side, so it won't hurt your hair."

It would be easier if your head was shaved but this was plenty enough. Hmm...? Was there something behind your ear? Eh, I must have imagined it. It's taped up now, anyway.

It's not my first time binding a guy in front of an audience but a video record is a first. Still, I make sure to not block the view and give a nice picture of everything. After your sight is taken, I open my duffel bag and take out two small plastic balls and give them to you.

"Now grasp these tightly." Our hands are similar in size and I have a good idea of just how much you can squeeze them so I make sure you don't leave any slack before taping your fingers to the balls with the tape. I'm generous with the microfiber stuff, I have no less than five more rolls in my bag.

After a while, both of your hands are reduced into white, wrapped balls, even less useful than mittens. I'm careful not to cut your circulation but with how elastic this tape is, you can't just flex your way out of this. "Now, please bend your knees, and let's tie your legs up."

Stu
“Woah,” I laugh as you smooth the tape carefully into each closed eye socket, “you really don’t want me to have any visual clues!”

I try squinting down the sides of my nose but you’re pressing the tape in thoroughly enough to block out every chink of light. Hmph. And this weird whatever it is also feels like it’s stickier than the silver variety I’m used to, the classic duct tape I know I can tear or muscle my way out of.

Oh well, I’m just going to have to work harder to dislodge it with the sweat-and-rub techni-

What the fu-? I thought you were finished but you’ve stuck more tape over that first strip and now you’re winding the roll around my whole head!

“Hey!” I react. You mistake my sudden alarm for concern about my hair and reassure me but I don't give a damn about my hair - not when you’ve gone and glued my trusty lock-pick away! Now if I need to pick a lock, I’m going to have to rub two full layers of this crap off my head.

“What even is this stuff?” I ask, trying to keep it light.

Instinctively I reach up to touch my taped eyes but you’re already taking my hands and guiding them around two… plastic balls?!

“Now grasp these tightly.”

I don’t immediately understand what's happening until you’re halfway done and the fingers of my right hand are cemented solidly around the ball, which completely fills my grip.

As you start on the second, I’m a mass of conflicting instincts: I’m already doing my best to flex and extend the fingers you’ve taped up and am unpleasantly surprised to find the degree of movement is minimal; basic fight/flight makes me want to jerk the second hand back before it too is imprisoned – but you’ve got me butt-upwards on the bed with little or no arm leverage. And I've got to stay cool for the camera...

A little late, I try the Houdini tensing-forearm-muscles trick but you're already circling with the tape, sticking the fingers of my left hand down just as firmly as the right.

I grimace beneath my blindfold. This isn't fair!

“I...” I begin. Suddenly, I remember my every reaction is being caught on video – every little pout or frown – and I can’t risk coming across as whiny, sulky or a bad sport.

“… I thought the tape was only for the gag!” I say from my prone position, forcing a laugh that sounds fake even to me.

My mind races, trying to adjust to this worrying new twist.

You take your time reinforcing the finger-taping – it seems to go on forever – and God only knows how much you used. My fists feel a bit like when I’ve had them taped up for boxing or sparring, except tighter and thicker, a load more layers.

"You finished?" I ask, trying not to sound stressed.

I flex surreptitiously, both hands together, testing the elasticity of the... what would I even call these things? "Tape-ball mittens"?! Stupid! Also stupid: my fingers 100% neutralised by tape and a couple of bloody plastic balls.

Could I do what I do with gags: find an edge to agitate against a surface until the whole strip of tape comes away? Maybe, but it feels like there would be a mile of tape to rub loose.

I try to gauge how far up each arm you've taped. It feels snug enough around the wrists but if the tape only extends that far, could I yank a hand free, the way I sometimes can with wrist roping? Only if I can unstick my fingers from the balls themselves. I squeeze them as hard as I can.

Maybe I can chew the tape off? Hang on, you said you’re going to gag me. I’d have to chew through that first.

Fuck.

“Now, please bend your knees, and let’s tie your legs up.”

I remember, suddenly, how Houdini would slip a shoe free so he could use his toes to untie knots. Not a trick I've ever tried but hell, you've already got me on the back foot (ho fucking ho); I’ve got to preserve every possible advantage I can.

I do as I’m told but attempt to flex my calves and ankles, the way I do (the way I should’ve done) with my wrists. That way, when I relax the muscles again, there’ll be some slack to play with.

I hope.

To be continued...

Sounds like someone needs their feet taped as well as their hands!

Looks like Stu's bitten off more than he can chew, and that's before the gag. An entirely unexpected development in your stories!

Great way to keep those fingers at bay! Love how this is going...

Straitjacketed wrote: 6 months ago “… I thought the tape was only for the gag!” I say from my prone position, forcing a laugh that sounds fake even to me.

The amazing realization that Stu has in this moment. He knows he's cooked, at least subconsciously, and its only going to get more intense from here! I cannot wait to see what more Kai has planned for his challenge!

blackbound wrote: 6 months ago Looks like Stu's bitten off more than he can chew, and that's before the gag. An entirely unexpected development in your stories!

Hahah, this is my archetypal "cocky escape artist" - although he evolved into Stu, who's actually quite sweet in his relationship with Kaiden.

Thanks, as ever, to those who voted in the poll and/or commented: @gag1195, @blackbound, @KidBlink and @_zin_. I'm also tagging people who previously commented on Richardverse stories and who I think might like this one (if you want to be untagged in these updates, just let me know): @Guardianbound, @KidnappedCowboy, @Windrunner, @Wedgieboy69, @CaptiveDan, @Bradstick and @Croup.

Conversely, if you do want to be tagged when I update these stories, drop a comment and let me know!


Tales from the Richardverse: Escape Challenge (when Stuart met Kaiden) - part 4

(Co-written with @DeeperThanRed)

Kai
“How does it feel when the lights are out?” I joke as you struggle to understand what I’m doing. I don’t expect you to call things off but it’s good to keep things light-hearted for the moment. I notice you getting a little nervous about my techniques.

“I never said I would only use the tape for gagging you,” I reply with a joke as I move to your legs. “This tape is water-resistant unlike the regular duct tape and it can stretch to all sides… meaning it doesn’t peel off with sweat or muscle flexing.”

I take the bondage rope I had ready on the side and start wrapping it around your left ankle. “But it’s weaker than industrial tape sooo, for stronger muscle groups…” I give an appreciative squeeze to your thigh “… I’ll use rope.”

Rather than just winding the rope around your ankle and thigh, I tie individual knots around them, fold at the knee and then cinch the rope tighter to bring everything together. The result is that you won’t be able to just wriggle out of one rope. You’ll need to untie individual knots first, and those are out of reach of your hands.

After doing the same with the other leg, you are frog-tied, legs bent and heels effectively resting on your neoprene-clad buttocks. “How’s that? Can you move your legs? Is it too tight?” I brush my fingers against your soles. “Are you ticklish?”

That’s my secret move. I know some beefier subs can create a lot of slack in my ropes by flexing. But if they’re tickled, they lose control, and I can use that opportunity to cinch the knots tighter… just like I’m doing now!

Stu
"How does it feel when the lights are out?" you ask.

"Dark!" I say, struggling to keep my cool in the face of my fingers being rendered useless by what feels like a few (HUNDRED) turns of tape.

"I never said I would only use the tape for gagging you."

"True," I admit, with a hint of chagrin, "And I'm starting to wish I'd picked that strappy muzzle thing instead". Damn right I am: however scary it looked in the bag, you could only have used it on my head.

You explain the properties of this particular tape and hearing that it "doesn't wear off with sweat or muscle flexing" makes me - paradoxically - start to prickle with beads of anxious perspiration under my neoprene suit. In planning the gag part of the challenge I'd counted on being able to unstick the adhesive with a combination of sweat and moisture from my lips. If this stuff is water-resistant and stretches, that's going to be much trickier. I'm going to have to find an end and work it loose by persistent rubbing.

When you tell me it's "weaker than industrial tape", I feel a jolt of hope about tearing or busting my hands free but then I realise that's why you've used it on the less powerful extensor muscles of my fingers (the flexors can't go anywhere because I'm squeezing these damn plastic balls) and you've used a shitload of layers.

To tell the truth, I am slowly, gradually, starting to realise I got you wrong. I remember the fifth bullet-point on my Escape Artist Checklist, the system I run through in my head when trying to appraise the seriousness of a bondage set-up.

5. Anything else likely to hood, muffle or stop me using (in descending order of usefulness) the tools of my trade: fingers, teeth, toes, vision, hearing?

Most challengers don't even think of addressing these things. Can it be luck alone that you've managed to frustrate two of the five already?

I'm trying not to think about that, though, and concentrating instead on doing the Houdini muscle-flex trick with calves and ankles as you loop rope around them (not being practised with a blindfold, I can't visualise the way you're knotting them so can't appreciate your individually-then-together cinching sneakiness). I'm still thinking I might be able to use my toes to - I dunno - help scratch the tape off my hands?

"It feels... snug," I say, "but no, not too tight." I'm reluctant to move my legs too much in case I accidentally un-flex and you take up the slack.

"Are you ticklish?"

"I don't thi-AHAHAH!"

Turns out I am ticklish.

I lose all flexion in my legs and feet, gasping with laughter, rolling as best I can from one side to the other to evade your fingers.

Kai
“Yeah… I think you might be a little ticklish,” I say cheerfully as I add my finishing touches to your legs, taking advantage of your laughter and lowered muscle control. Done. However, you still move too much with your hands unrestrained, so I need to fix that.

First, before you can recover from your giggling fit, I apply my rope-cuff technique to your elbows and bring them closer together. Not so close that it’s painful, but with your feet resting on your butt, your body is starting to get a slight bow shape, raising your chest a little from the bed.

“How’s that?” I lightly tap you, appreciating the way your pecs flex and fill the cleavage of your unitard. “It’s a good thing your ‘underwear’ is a high cut, or you’d start spilling from the front.”

After the teasing comment, I take out my trump card from the duffel bag: a stainless-steel spreader bar around a meter long. I borrowed it from a trusted friend – a burly ginger trusted friend who knows his stuff – so I know it’s high quality.

Normally, it would have leather cuffs on it to attach wrists and ankles but those usually have flimsy chains and locks, and I trust my roping skills more. So, I removed those cuffs, leaving only empty D-rings.

“Now, let’s see if the Incredible Studini can recognize this piece?” I wink at the camera and rest the bar on your lower back. “As your arms’ range of movement is limited, it’s not hard to take hold of your wrists, wrap snug loops of rope around each ball-taped hand and tie it to the bar’s outer D-rings.

“You see, now you can’t bring your hands anywhere close to your feet,” I point out as I begin to attach your frog-tied ankles to the inner set of rings in the middle of the bar. This way, your legs are first opened and then brought together at your butt, while your arms are folded closer to your torso at the elbows before being forced away from your body at thigh level.

“Brilliant,” I ruffle your hair affectionately. “I say we’re a bit more than halfway done.”

Stu
“… OHGODAHAHAHOHGODSTOP!”

I’m so relieved when the attack on my soles subsides that I just lie there, getting my breath back and only then starting to register quite how busy you’ve been during my laughing fit.

I wriggle my toes, realising they’re pretty much the only part of my feet I can move. My ankles feel pretty much welded to my thighs, my heels brushing the neoprene of my buttocks. I imagine the rope – presumably the same red cord I glimpsed earlier – knotted around each ankle then looped around the thigh then cinched between… and then ankles bound together?

I’m familiar with the overall look of a frogtie but never been bound that way myself. It feels both restrictive – I can’t unbend my knees or move my ankles away from each other – and weirdly vulnerable with my knees spread.

I’m hyper-aware of two things: the hidden blade in its secret pocket in the bottom edge of my unitard, tantalising close to my taped-up fingers but seeming so far away; and my junk, pressed uncomfortably beneath my body weight in its neoprene prison (I redden slightly at your “spilling from the front” jibe).

Uh-oh. An elbow tie. Even a loose one of those is bad news. Rope wrapped around the chest is fine – I can puff out my chest then, later, exhale and work the loose coils either upward or downwards – but elbows are nastier. Maybe it’s just a single loop I can wiggle loose? No, you’re making actual rope cuffs and connecting them together. Shit.

“Let’s see if the Incredible Studini can recognise this piece?”

Barely have I begun to explore the elbow binding when the sudden sound and weight of steel on my lower back makes me gasp.

“Uhh, is that metal? We didn’t… I didn’t see that in your bag… “ I say, trying not to sound accusatory.

“… at least, not the bag you showed me,” I finish lamely. Of course: the second bag, the duffel, the ‘just a change of clothes’ one. Why didn’t I insist on seeing inside that one too?

I do my best to tense my wrists as you build a cuff around each and explain, helpfully, that I now can’t bring my wrists near my feet. Shit shit shit, it’s like you’re reading my mind!

And then my ankles, already tight to each other and to my butt, are suddenly roped up to that same bar. I try to see the steel rod in my mind’s eye, wondering if I’m going to be able to slide anything – hand or foot – along its length. I’m pretty worried this’ll make it hard even to roll over. I give a little experimental tug, testing the solidity of the bar; do I have the strength/leverage to bend it?

“I say we’re a bit more than halfway done.”

ONLY HALFWAY DONE?!!

"But you've already got me trussed up like a pretzel!" I protest, making it into a joke, "what more can you do?!"

Kai
What more can I do? I smirk under my mask.

“You’re about to find out, just sit tight,” I joke and let you test the spreader bar a little.

The fixed rings and the lack of slack in my knots make it impossible for you to move your feet and hands from their fixed positions.

“I wanted to surprise you,” I say as you fail to exert any leverage against the bar. It’s a high-quality item and even with your muscle-strength, you couldn’t begin to bend it even if you weren’t. Still, it’s not good if you can move it around.

“Sorry, I’m gonna need to touch you a little.” I shrug to the camera humorously. “Don’t take it the wrong way, we’re both guys, after all.”

With that, I take more rope and slightly lift your midsection to pull it under you. I usually tie crotch ropes earlier, but I wasn’t sure if you would let me before. Now, you can’t physically stop me, and I have a feeling that you don’t want to embarrass yourself in front of your viewers.

“Don’t mind me, I’ll be done in a flash,” I pull the rope under and around your thighs with more ease, carefully blocking the view to not make it obvious what kind of tie I’m doing. I don’t have much room to work but still, I manage to tie a rope harness around your crotch without too much difficulty thanks to your already restrained state.

It’s a simple rope belt tied around you like a waist-belt with two loops going under your legs to meet back with the belt on your back. The result is a strict prison that goes between your buttocks and constricts your bulge from both sides. Speaking of your bulge, I happen to brush my hand on it by accident.

“Be careful not to let your audience see how excited you are,” I whisper to you and continue in a loud voice:

“Now I’ll wrap things up - pun intended - and we can move on to your gag, aka the Big Show.”

To take away any last remaining movement, I tie the spreader bar firmly to your waist to keep it in place, using the remaining ropes from your crotch tie. I pat your butt.

“Be careful pulling this away from yourself,” unless you want your crotch tie to get tighter, is left unsaid.

I take more tape and tape your big toes together. It takes me a few turns to be satisfied and even then, I use some more tape to stick your feet together.

Discarding the now-empty roll, I lean to you. “So, still confident about your choice of tape, dude? If you have anything to say, it’s your last chance.”

Let’s see how much bravado is left after I gag you…

To be continued...

Love the spreader bar idea! Looking forward to the ominous gagging...

You two are really teasing us by making us wait for this anticipated gagging! If the restraints are any indication, I have no doubt that the gag will be just as thorough and complete!

Hahah, the ominous gag is a bit of a tease, isn't it? I'll probably do a little extra update on this one, a bit earlier, to scratch that itch.

Poor Stu, always getting into trouble. The spreader bar was a nice touch.

Thanks, as ever, to those who voted in the poll and/or commented: @gag1195, @blackbound, @KidBlink and @_zin_. I'm also tagging people who previously commented on Richardverse stories and who I think might like this one (if you want to be untagged in these updates, just let me know): @Guardianbound, @KidnappedCowboy, @Windrunner, @Wedgieboy69, @CaptiveDan, @Bradstick and @Croup.

Conversely, if you do want to be tagged when I update these stories, drop a comment and let me know!


Tales from the Richardverse: Escape Challenge (when Stuart met Kaiden) - part 5

(Co-written with @DeeperThanRed)

Stu
Ugh! Fuck this shit!

I jerk at the bar securing my bound-up hands and my feet, at first tentatively then with more concentration and effort: if I brace myself and pull steadily with all my might – like I’m doing a big deadlift at the gym – then something’s got to give.

Nothing gives. Not only is this piece of metal solid but you’ve somehow secured my wrists and ankles to it so they’re fixed in position. They won’t slide and however you’ve knotted the rope cuffs, hauling on them seems not to create any noticeable slack. It’s not just a steel bar, it’s some sort of specialist thing, damn it to hell.

Is the bar square in its diameter? In desperation, I’m trying to find a hard edge that I can rub the tape ball-mitten things against. There must be something I can use to begin scraping the tape off. The Escape Artist Tools of the Trade spool through my head like a mantra - fingers, teeth, toes, eyes, hearing – with the first the most powerful. If I could only get one hand free, even just a finger or two, I could try stretching toward the secret pocket where my blade sits, useless.

I haven’t been listening and am taken by surprise when your hand snakes underneath and the crotch-roping begins. I snort but manage not to yell out. Suddenly, all my attention is focused on the uncomfortably intense mass of sensations in that triangle bordered by tight rope.

Damn right I don’t want my audience seeing my… reaction. For the first time, I’m grateful you’ve got me belly-down and butt-up – until I become aware of the bar being lashed securely in place. Now I can’t angle the fucker in either direction. I jerk at it again, irked at your thoroughness.

“Now I’ll wrap things up – pun intended – and we can move on to your gag, aka the Big Show.”

I hadn’t thought my feet could be immobilised even more but you manage it, with big toes and feet taped to within an inch of their life.

I hear the empty roll discarded and feel a flicker of hope. This tape seems pretty specialised and if you’ve used up your whole supply, maybe you’re going to have to go with one of the other gags – and, I remind myself, I don’t have to make a full escape, just rid myself of the gag enough to say two syllables: “I win”. Assuming you’ve finished the tape, I think about the other options. Anything lockable and I’m kind of fucked but the bandannas or the muzzle? I might be in with a chance.

“So, still confident about your choice of tape, dude? If you have anything to say, it’s your last chance.”

I make a flash decision to try something sneaky I’ve done in the past on the rare occasions when I’ve felt in over my head. It might work.

“Uh, did you hear that beep from the video?” I lick my lips, aware that this needs to sound convincing, “I think it might’ve stopped recording, man. You, uh, you might have to undo some of this for me to go check it out.”

I hold my breath, waiting to see if you fall for my little white lie.

Kai
I watch you with amusement as you try to find an edge on the cylindrical bar to no avail. Now let’s move to-

“Uh, did you hear that beep from the video? I think it might’ve stopped recording, man. You, uh, you might have to undo some of this for me to go check it out.”

Hmm? I raise a brow and turn to the camera. I didn’t hear any noise. I check the camera to see if it is still recording. Yup, it works just fine.

However, you gave me an idea. I keep the camera rolling but say “You’re right, it seems to be stopped.” I wait a few seconds to give you hope before adding: “But no worries, I have a perfectly good phone camera with me. I’ll start recording and we can just combine the footage later.”

I wonder if me filming will change your behavior. Maybe you’ll become bolder to express your desperation now that you think people can’t see you? Or more obedient because I’ll own your vulnerable moments on my device?

Anyway, I prop my phone up on a good vantage point, make sure it’s charged and start recording. “Here, all set. Aren’t you glad everyone will get to see your successful escape?” I’m playing to the camera now, without you knowing.

I drag my bag onto the bed and sit in front of you, caging your head between my legs. “Now, let’s move to the gag. You know the rules: after I’m done, all you need to do is say ‘I win’.” Since you’re getting agitated and might start protesting harder, I try to be quick.

First, I pull out a ball from my bag, about the size of a small lemon. “Here, open up.” Bringing it close to your mouth, I hold your jaw and push it inside as soon as you start questioning.

“Just like I promised, I’ll only use tape to gag you. That’s why I spend yesterday evening making a ball made of nothing but microfiber tape!” And it took me more rolls than I want to admit but I now have a solid mass just the right size to fill up your oral cavity.

“Don’t worry, it’s too big for you to swallow and it can’t dissolve in your mouth,” I added reassuringly as I produce a new roll, open it and begin to wrap it around your head, pulling the edges tight between your lips.

After five minutes and more than half a roll gone, I’m satisfied with the cleave gag. Then, I move to the over-the-mouth gag. I don’t think drool will be a problem, but I still smooth a few strips of tape over your lips, across your cheeks, and under your jaw to carefully shut your maw before wrapping more tape around and around your mouth, burying the cleave-gag and sealing the stuffing inside.

“Let’s see how useful that gag is.” I lightly slapped your cheek and bring my phone closer to your face to get your full blindfolded-gagged glory. You look devastatingly cute and I can’t wait to tease you more as you struggle to escape. “Here’s an offer: try to say ‘I win’. If my phone’s voice recognition understands you, we’ll call it your win. If not, I’ll add a few more adjustments before starting the challenge.”

“What do you say, Stud-ini?”

Stu
Well, it’s fair to say that little ploy backfired.

It’s also left me thoroughly confused. Unable to see, even my hearing is slightly muffled (when you blindfolded me, you taped over my ears) and when I strain to detect actual electronic beeping, I can’t hear any. Is my invented camera malfunction coincidentally real? Are you now in control of the only footage? Is this an elaborate mind game in which you’ve turned my excuse back onto me?

I’m silently working out the implications of all this – while fidgeting more urgently at the bindings of my ball-mitted hands and yanking my taped-and-bound feet against that sodding steel bar – when I realise your voice is right in front of me on the bed, your legs either side of my tape-blinded head. Even sightless, I’m aware of the closeness of your crotch.

“Now, let’s move to the gag. You know the rules: after I’m done, all you need to do is say ‘I win’.”

Fuck. I can’t quite believe the speed with which you’ve got me into this seemingly thorough state of helplessness – and, despite my testing of your bonds, I’ve yet to explore it all fully (you haven’t given me the go-ahead) – but I’m reminded that, ultimately, it all comes down to the gag. Maybe – just maybe – there’s going to be an angle there, something that works in my favour.

“Here, open up.”

“Okay, but wai-“

It's in.

Past my teeth and filling my mouth, a great gob-stopping lump of something that tastes like surgical glue and reminds me unpleasantly of dentists. It feels huge and it’s all I can do to breathe steadily and try to gulp around it as you explain and reassure, winding, smoothing and pressing extra strips until it feels like my whole face is coated in the stuff – which it pretty much is.

The mouth covering seems airtight and I have to breathe through my nostrils. I’m aware of saliva building up and, as yet, not leaking out around my lips. I have to suck around the lump of antiseptic gunk to swallow my own drool.

“Hhnggg?” I gurgle faintly, testing my ability to. Although I wanted a single strip of duct tape and this is about as far from that as it’s possible to get, I do have some experience of being gagged as part of an escape challenge. Nothing like this – it wasn’t this weird “microfibre” shit – but I was able, eventually, to dislodge the mass of silver on my lower face through a mix of sweat, drool and repeatedly working my jaw as if yawning. It detached first from my upper lip then I was able to work it downwards until I could spit the mouth stuffing over the top of it.

The way you’ve gagged me is a whole different level of evil but maybe that method is still possible?

“Let’s see how useful that gag is. Here’s an offer: try to say ‘I win’. If my ‘phone’s voice recognition understands you, we’ll call it your win. If not, I’ll blah blah whatever…”

I don’t hear anything beyond “we’ll call it your win”. Here’s my chance to win the whole challenge in one fell swoop, avoiding on-camera humiliation! This is my angle!

Immediately, I’m nodding and grunting enthusiastically.

“What do you say, Stud-ini?”

I have one chance to get this right. I suck the surplus drool out of my mouth and clench hard on the lump of tape to compress it as much as I can. Before my attempt, I have to try to make my palate and oral cavity as close to normal as possible, to help me form recognisable words.

I inhale through my nostrils, lift my head and enunciate as loudly and clearly as I can.

“HHGGIII HHGGNNN!”

To be continued...

The tape ball stuffing is inspired! I'm one to appreciate a good challenge loophole and that might be one of the best I've read! I'm liking Kai more and more!

Oh, and it goes without saying, but Stu is screwed!

Oh god, I can taste that microfoam ball in my mind. I feel slightly bad for Stud-ini. But only slightly.

Love this series please continue <3

Many thanks to those who voted in the poll and/or commented (that's what keeps us writers going!): @gag1195, @blackbound, @KidBlink and @_zin_. I'm also tagging people who previously commented on Richardverse stories and who I think might like this one (if you want to be untagged in these updates, just let me know): @Guardianbound, @KidnappedCowboy, @Windrunner, @Wedgieboy69, @CaptiveDan, @Bradstick, @Croup and @CowboyStud.

Conversely, if you do want to be tagged when I update these stories, drop a comment and let me know!


Tales from the Richardverse: Escape Challenge (when Stuart met Kaiden) - Escapology Interlude!

(Co-written with @DeeperThanRed)

Kai
I make a disappointed noise as my phone fail to pick any intelligible speech.

To be fair, I’d probably lie to you if you ended up winning. I’m not enough of a nice guy to have this trussed-up piece of beefcake escape from me that easily. Eh, there’s no sense in considering what-ifs.

“Sorry buddy, you’re not going anywhere. That gag holds up.” I put up a finger over the crease your lips make on the tape sealing them. “Now get ready for the adjustments.”

I take out a sealed pouch from my bag. Inside, there is a jockstrap in neon pink and electric blue. I wore that five days straight in the gym and it’s safe to say it got a little musky. Along with it, there is also a jock cup sportsmen usually wear under their athletic supporters. I never wear that though.

Rather than wearing under clothes, this one is a modified cup used to muzzle people. It has adjustable straps on both sides that can be buckled just like a gag.

After that, I move back in view of the camera and loudly announce: “As a punishment, you have to finish the challenge while sniffing my socks!” I don’t mention the underwear. No need to make this stream not-safe-for-work… well, any more than it already is.

I pull out my white athletic socks and bundle them up along with my jock, all of them having a rather strong stench but no visible stains (I’m not that sadistic).

It’s surprisingly easy to place the jock cup over your mouth and nose before buckling it up behind your head while you’re still busy struggling with your gag. When it’s tightened, I move on to my next target.

Even though the cup muzzle makes it harder for you to dislocate your gag, it’s not completely secure. I take out my third roll of tape today and raise your chin up with my other hand. This wasn’t in the plans but I can reinforce your bonds even further.

I stick one side of the tape over the cup, wrap it around your head a few times and then move on to your bound feet. Each time I take care to pull your head and feet back to prevent any slack from happening and not strain your neck. When I’m done, your head is hogtied to your feet without the help of your hands.

I’d like to see you working your jaw and chin now.

“Finally, the challenge can start!” I announce while checking the time. Wow, it’s been almost over an hour since we started. And our viewer count is through the roof! “

Since you won’t be able to detect any verbal clues, begin when I tap you.” I pull out my wireless earphones and place them in your ears before taping them in place. Automatically, my white noise playlist begins to play. It’s mostly muffled noise of leather creaking, rope squeaking, duct tape crunching, and muzzled boys moaning.

Just to put you in the mood.

I set up a timer and slap your butt. “Studini’s great escape begins now!”

Stu
“Sorry buddy, you’re not going anywhere. That gag holds up. Now get ready for the adjustments.”

I slump in disappointment – as much as I can slump, trussed and taped up as I am – and belatedly start to join the dots - or, rather, the red flags - from your first “I’m a hobbyist” through the subtly steered choice of tape for my gag (AND EVERYTHING ELSE!) to the suspiciously specialist-seeming metal bar transmitting every tug and struggle directly to my crotch.

And now, “the adjustments”. Fuck my life.

“As a punishment, you have to finish the challenge while sniffing my socks!”

Jesus Christ, that ODOUR! The inside of a gym bag, well-used then thrown in a corner for a week, two weeks! A dense, nostril-choking musk that smells unmistakeably masculine.

Reflexively, I try to jerk my nose free but my neck movements are limited by the amount of tape cementing my lower jaw shut and it’s an easy job for you to clamp my head in place and rattle buckles closed. There’s a new tightness over my nose and mouth and every inhalation brings more of that musky cheesiness. I can’t escape it!

I'm in some sort of mask or face-guard, I decide, buckled at the nape of my neck. Maybe if I shake my head enough, I can-

And then, NATURALLY, you tape the bastard stinking thing more securely in place then go on to link it somehow behind me so it’s pulling back and up, onto my face. Not only am I unable to shake it loose but when you release my head, I find I can lower it an inch or so but I no longer have sufficient neck flexion to rub my gagged face against the surface of the bed. Or, for that matter, any other fucking thing. Even my shoulders are pulled too far back for me to reach - even if my gag wasn't now protected by a hard plastic shell.

“hhggch hhggoo!”

My defiant “fuck you!” sounds small and weedy, like you’ve soundproofed the lower half of my face.

Trying to ignore the ever-present stench, I give a long, steady exhalation through my nose – a wordless note of irritation.

“Since you won’t be able to detect any verbal clues, begin when I tap you.”

Whut?!

A fiddling with the tape around my head then something slides into each ear canal. I snort an objection but am powerless to resist as you cover my ears up again, pressing more tape firmly into place. I start as a susurrus begins, weirdly intimate. At first, I think it’s some sort of ASMR but I soon start to discern sounds that are all too familiar and all too distracting...

Instinctively, I repeat my inner mantra to calm myself - fingers, teeth, toes, eyes, hearing - a way of listing and therefore reminding myself of the resources at my disposal, the Escapology Tools of the Trade. It takes longer than it ought to for me to recognise that you have systematically neutralised every single fucking one of those Tools of the Trade. No, it's worse than that, you've gone above and beyond: even my sense of smell is overwhelmed!

For the first time, my calming mantra starts to seem like mockery; it's like you've managed to get inside my head and knot up my very thoughts!

FUCKING HELL!

I wince at the butt-slap and realise, with a start, that all of this has just been the set-up; the challenge begins now.

But where do I even start?

I start by getting myself calm.

In between my escape footage – and the occasional live-streaming challenge (like today’s) – I’ve begun producing shorter videos where I dispense nuggets of escapology wisdom. I don’t give away any secrets as such, it’s more a sort of Zen-meets-mindfulness-meets-positive-mental-attitude “philosophy of escapology” schtick.

A phrase I’ve used more than once is “panic is the enemy”. Remembering it now, I steady my breathing as best I can and take a mental step back.

It works. I’m able to dissociate from the sensory chaos of my immediate surroundings. I know from experience I can use this temporarily cooler, calmer mind-set to mentally zoom in on each element of my predicament in turn. Another motto is “no situation is 100% escape-proof”: there must be a weakness in your set-up and I owe it to myself to examine everything fully and calmly until I find it.

Back to first principles, then:

Fingers.

The most useful and versatile of the escapologist’s tools: freeing my hands is by far the commonest way I escape. My fingers are strong and supple and I’ve worked to develop a power-grip. Usually, the muscle-tensing trick create enough slack that I can either pull a hand free or rotate a wrist in its binding enough to reach and unpick the knots.

I try a slow, steady pull on the roping around my right wrist, visualising the binding as I do so. Is it the same thinnish red rope I saw at the beginning? How many turns when you made the wrist-cuff? Where did you position the knots? I visualise the rope passing through a welded ring at the end of a metre-long steel bar and tug gently until I have a sense of how that ring sits.

I can’t withdraw my hand from the rope because my fingers are taped to a plastic ball whose diameter is wider than the rope wrist-cuff. My movement is further limited by the similar rope cuffs at my elbows (and I can’t work those downwards because of the angle of my arms). Can I rotate my wrist within the binding? Even if I can, that doesn’t achieve much while that ball is holding my fingers immobile. Earlier, I tried rubbing the tape loose but, although the tape isn’t protected like that of my gag, my hands are positioned at the ends of the bar, up off the bed, away from any surface to rub against.

I concentrate on the fingers themselves: do I have any other way of unsticking them? You said the wrapping was weaker than industrial tape so perhaps I can puncture it with my fingernails? I try to recall the number of layers you added to each fist; did you calculate the thickness needed to compensate for the tape’s relative weakness?

(I’m aware of the blade concealed in the inside of the leg of my neoprene unitard, on the right side. It’s served me well in the past but it’s unreachable for now. I dismiss it.)

If I can’t rub away, puncture or tear the tape itself, could I break the balls themselves? What kind of plastic are they made of? Are they hollow? If I’m able to squeeze one enough that I crush it, would the tape wrapping also collapse inwards? Could I then flex my fingers to freedom? Sometimes brute strength is the answer.

I make a single titanic effort, focusing all my strength into the ends of my arms, visualising the balls buckling in my grip. I squeeze with all my might.

Kai
I take a comfortable seat as I watch you struggle to free yourself.

While there’s not much you can do, it’s still entertaining to watch your muscles strain that cute unitard and listen to your barely-audible moans.

Then, as if a flip is switched, your movements stop. Before I can worry about a medical emergency, I see your hands writhing against the tape and ropes holding them.

Oh? So your fame is not by pure chance. After getting over the initial shock, you’re able to direct your efforts to more realizable goals. Even though I’m confident in my bondage… it’s not fool-proof by any means. I lean forward and start monitoring your movements with more scrutiny, forgetting about how attractive you look at the moment.

The thin rope gives you very little slack between each other and your skin. Still, the cuffs themselves are not very thick. There are only three rounds around each wrist, plus the knots that tie them to your ankles under your wrists, the spreader bar above them, and to each other at the insides.

Spreader bar rings that your ankles are attached to are welded into the steel rod but your hands are tied to thinner d-rings at both ends of the bar, which can move left and right. It doesn’t allow you to do much but in hindsight, you can probably dislocate them by enough force.

It’s pretty hard with the position of your elbows but it’s not impossible.

Then, my eyes are drawn to the tape mittens encasing your fingers. Even if the ropes prevent you from turning your wrists more than half an inch to the sides, the tape ends above your hands.

That should hold, right? The thickness of your rope cuffs prevents you from scratching the tape with the help of the bar. However, I still peer with some anxiety as your fingers flex under the tape.

With your fingers grasping the ball tight, it’s hard for your fingernails to penetrate the ten layers of tape covering them but I wish I used proper leather mittens now. Did you have long nails? I don’t think you did.

Wait, what about the balls? I tried to make you squeeze them hard but even if they’re solid, they are still made of flimsy plastic! There may be still some room for you to wriggle your fingers slightly if you flex!

My first instinct is to pull more materials and reinforce your captivity but I deice against it. I’m not that much of a cheater to bend the rules without you even making a dent in your bondage.

“Studini seems to be using every ounce of strength he uses,” I narrate to get my mind off your possible success. “Wouldn’t you want a piece like him decorating your room, all helpless and eager?”

With my identity hidden by my mask and you unable to hear me, I don’t see an issue in adding some spice to the show. Who knows, I can even earn you a few more fans.

I try to see your face but my damn work prevents me to do so. Between the gag, blindfold, muzzle, and earplugs, your face might as well be hooded, only your forehead and your hair being clearly visible.

Your eyebrows imply that you’re in great concentration and/or exertion. Well, at least I know that my plan to disorientate you with my musk and auditory suggestions was unsuccessful. Now I just need to wait and see if your body is as durable as your mind.

Stu
I’ve never had long fingernails but I don’t bite them and I’m always careful not to over-trim. My hands are taped so tightly to the balls that I can’t get leverage to puncture the many layers of tape, so no go there.

(It takes more effort than usual to remain in my part-dissociated analytical mind-state. Twisting and tugging my hands puts pressure on my junk, wrapped in sweaty neoprene and framed in rope, and I have to work to screen out the potent musk in my nostrils and the creaks and moans in my ears. It’s like trying to meditate in the middle of an orgy. Concentrate!)

My wrists are counter-tied to both the bar and to my ankles so not much slack or rotation. I feel rather than hear the clink of something metallic and deduce that there’s a hinge or link of some kind, so possibly an avenue there. Clenching the balls as tightly as I can, they don’t collapse (a shame – I was visualising hollow plastic) but was that a slight amount of give on the right (my dominant) side? Nothing dramatic and I can’t work out how it might help me, but it makes me feel less helpless.

Okay, a small amount of potential with fingers, let’s move on to…

Teeth.

If I can get them in reach of knots, teeth are possibly even more useful escape tools than fingers; when challengers opt to tie hands in front, that’s a direct route to freedom. In your challenge, there’s an even stronger reason to focus on my mouth because if I can manage to say the words “I win”, I win outright without having to shed any other binding.

So much has happened so fast that I’ve barely had time to take in the specifics of the gag. I explore it now, gauging the range of movement of tongue, teeth, jaw and neck muscles.

You managed to force that big lemon-shaped lump of wadded tape past my teeth and it’s sitting sideways, extending into my cheeks on both sides. I wonder again about the tape: you referred to it as “microfibre” and it doesn’t seem very absorbent; drool builds up periodically and I have to swallow around the wad to clear it – not so easy with my tongue flattened to the floor of my mouth. I’m not going to choke and I can breathe just fine (if I ignore the smell, as I’m doing now) but I can’t form intelligible words.

I make a few more attempts at enunciating “I win”, just to check. I can’t hear myself per se but I can sense the vibrations through the bones of my skull.

Can I compress the tape-wad further to give my tongue some more room? You taped everything in place with my mouth partly open; can I close it to squash the wad further? Can I bite down on the cleave-gag? How many rounds of tape did you use?

You said the tape was waterproof; does that mean the adhesive won’t detach with sweat and saliva? If I can free my tongue from under the wad (likely difficult, as it more or less fills the space), I can poke at the wider mouth-covering to see if that helps.

I test the range of neck and jaw movements, limited by tape under the chin, the hard face-cover (IGNORE THE SMELL) and the tape hogtie that also prevents me reaching the surface of the bed. How much can I open my mouth against all those constraints? I try again to turn my head enough to reach a pulled-back shoulder; it’s a remote hope but if I could reach anything with my chin, I could start abrading the outer layer of tape.

After each attempt, I try again with “I win”.

Kai
Thankfully, you were not able to get your fingers free. I saw a disturbing amount of motion in that right fist of yours but after a few minutes of testing the security of the tape and ball, you seemed to move on.

I try not to worry. Even if you get one hand free later down the line, there’s still a lot you need to do before taking the speech-muffling ball out of your mouth and declaring your victory.

Then you get immobile for a short while again and I realize that you’re trying to work your gag off. I smile and speak to the camera. “As you can see - or not - the great Studini is having some difficulties with my knots. All he can do is hump the be… I mean, bounce on the bed. So he seems to take the easy way out and try to free his mouth.”

This part is definitely more immediately dangerous than your hands but I’m more confident about the way I gagged you. There are better ways to silence a guy but the versatility of the tape allows me to stuff your gob, secure it inside and cover your lips to prevent drooling in one fell swoop.

And the “adjustment” cup muzzle you oh so foolishly allowed me to apply… normally, tape stuffing is not very effective at filling the mouth as it doesn’t swell by absorbing saliva. However, this is also to my advantage as it means you can’t as easily bite down to move your jaw.

You can, however, move it more easily in your oral cavity to make room for speech and I hear you make a few attempts. But that’s why I cleave-gagged you. Not only does it leave less room in your mouth, reducing the range your can wiggle the ball of tape, but it also prevents you from easily closing your front teeth to crush the stuffing. You can try to bite on the cleave gag but this time, the stuffing prevents you from applying much force.

In short, even without the over-the-mouth gag, your gag’s components reinforce each other. Still, even with the ten rounds of tape between your lips, there’s still a small risk that you may take your tongue under the ball.

The cup muzzle and tape going under your chin probably prevents you from opening your jaw enough to work on your gag but the more you struggle, the less durable it gets. The sweat won’t affect it at least. All the wetness in your face is good for is to soak my jock and socks over your nose and make them smell more.

My biggest advantage is how I took away your senses. With them being so overwhelmed with my distractions, it’s night impossible for you to process the passage of time. Even though I started the challenge fifteen minutes ago, your exposed muscles are sweaty as if you’re working out for an hour.

I’m sure you still have energy but the longer this goes on, the likelier it becomes for you to overestimate the time you spent captive and give up.

Carefully listening to your periodical moans, I wait for you to stop your efforts to escape and just give up.

Stu
I swallow my disappointment as if it’s saliva. The gag must be the most frustrating part of this whole set-up – you set it up as central to the challenge then lavished a lot of time and tape on making it impossible (no, I remind myself, near-impossible) for me to remove – so it’s not surprising that I’m making little progress there.

(It’s getting harder and harder – no pun intended – to tune out the sensory cacophony, so I move on swiftly to…)

Toes.

These are always an outside option, a very left-field way to escape. Houdini wore slip-on shoes with the express purpose of kicking them off and using his feet; as often as not, my challengers insist I wear boots or other footwear that doesn’t allow for toe action – possibly why it’s news to me that I’m as ticklish as I evidently am.

I’ve practised knot-untying with my feet and had held out hope that, uncovered, they might prove a secret weapon. You clearly anticipated this in the way you tied them: singly, together, to my wrists and to either one or two welded loops in the centre of the steel bar, well away from my immobilised fingers.

Had I been superhumanly prehensile, I suppose I might have tried to kick the emergency blade free with one heel then find it on the bed surface with my toes, manipulating it toward my hands. That plan falls down on almost every level, not least the fact that my toes and feet are taped so tightly together they feel like a single merman-like limb.

How many layers of “microfibre” did you use? I strain to separate my toes, feeling the adhesive on the insteps and tops of my feet. Can my focused efforts dislodge the tape in any way or do they just pull on the cup around my face, pulling my head backwards?

(A sudden Zen-piercing waft of musk and cheese. Shit, it’s getting harder to concentrate. Let’s go to…)

Eyes.

Not a mechanical escape tool but if I can see the placement of bonds, I can prepare for them – do the muscle-tensing trick – anticipate and sometimes negotiate. You took care of my eyes early on with a strip (and then more strips) of this infernal tape that seems impervious to sweat, tears and probably blood. Losing my vision has disadvantaged me from the start and not being able to see what I’m dealing with extends that disadvantage.

Anything I can do about it? Can I loosen the adhesive? I try wiggling my eyebrows and opening my eyes but this stickier tape and the fact that you’ve pressed it down so thoroughly means my eyelids are glued shut. Blindfolds can usually be worked upwards but if I can’t get my chin near a rubbable surface, the top half of my face won’t reach.

(Ignore the frustration. Ignore the frustration. Try…)

Hearing.

Probably the weakest aids to escape, hearing only really comes into its own when I’m blindfolded and is most useful for keeping track of my challenger’s whereabouts, his location in the room, helping me avoid or at least anticipate nasty surprises. A slap on the butt is more of a shock when I haven’t heard it coming.

If my hearing was a little muffled by the blindfold going over my ears (and trapping my lock-pick) at the start of the set-up, your sneaky trick at the end has 100% neutralised any possible advantage. Worse than that, the nature of your “white noise” is an active distraction. The creaking of leather reminds me of my own biking gear and the muffled groaning? I realise, with a start, that I’m making little noises in my throat that echo those stifled grunts and moans, jerking and twisting at my own ropes in accord with the creaking.

FUCK!

Suddenly, I’m fighting a combined sensory assault that washes over my fragile Zen-like state and threatens to overwhelm it, bringing me right back to my straining, sweating flesh, prone but starting to grind my neoprene-packaged pelvis into the surface of the bed...

Kai
I nervously check my watch, painfully aware that it’s the third time in five minutes.

I have to admit that this challenge is a first for me. While I tied up a lot of men before, they were usually in the comfort of explicit mutual attraction. They were all either tied up in a way they could escape if they want or had no chance to do so and were going along the ride.

This uncertain test of my abilities was a first for me.

The way a scantily-clad hottie writhing and moaning on a bed in front of me without having his consent to touch him was additional torture. Sure, I teased and groped you a little but nothing out of line.

Rather than looking at you like a cute guy I’d want to have some fun with, I force myself to see you as a captive I have to keep in line. Not that it makes things less arousing…

You wriggling your toes get my attention. I didn’t think you could do much with them when they are kept out of any knots by your spreader bar but I remember that they also hold your head back. There are about ten rounds of tape tying your feet together and around half as many around your toes. And that’s without counting the five rounds of tape hogtie.

You should be safe. Safe and secure.

And before I can worry about it, your plan shows its weakness: as you slightly tug your toes back, your feet drag your muzzle back. The cup is forced even deeper into your face and there was not much slack in the first place.

It’s a good thing I didn’t wrap the tape around your eyes when doing the hogtie, it might have hurt your neck.

Speaking of your eyes, you seem to move to your blindfold, trying to lodge it off. That might be a weak point, as it's mostly held back by being wrapped around your head and hair doesn’t hold tape very well.

Still, you remain perfectly blind. There’s no space between the thin, sticky tape and your eyelids, meaning you can’t open them inside the blindfold. I suppose the white color makes it possible for you to sense the change in the light but that’s about it.

Here’s the kicker. Another advantage of robbing you of your senses is that you have to waste precious time even to get a sense of your surroundings, spending more of your precious mental stamina.

I get up and walk to your side, blocking the camera's view with my body. It’s not like there’s anything new to see currently.

You only visibly react when I dip the bed with my weight.

Your back seems sweaty between the straps of your unitard. If I didn’t know it better, I’d say you were getting aroused by this. The rhythm of your squirming seems less coordinated and more along the lines of a bad porn actor wiggling more for showing off their assets rather than trying to escape.

However, that might be just my wishful thinking… or is it? It’s almost like you are frotting your bulge on the bed now. Are you just trying to get the spreader bar off and it inadvertently pulls on your crotch tie? Or are you trying to enjoy this?

I’m not stupid enough to think my godly bondage reprogrammed you into being my gay bondage slave or anything but you obviously get a lot of excitement from your escape challenges.

It’s not too farfetched to think that the suspended bridge effect is making you into your predicament. Not me. Just your bondage.

Not wanting to take advantage of your helplessness (well, more than I already did), I let my palm slowly go down on your neoprene-clad back, finally resting on the rope pulling your buttocks apart. I lightly squeeze your ass as if asking for permission and wait anxiously for your reaction.

To be continued...

This is great!

I 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