Professional Escape Artist (Part 1)

Being a professional escape artist is a lot harder than it used to be. I mean, it wasn’t that long ago when I could entertain an audience for two hours with just a posy straitjacket and a sexy assistant in a Spandex leotard. But not any more. The constant exposure to extreme sports, reality television, and instant gratification has reduced the collective attention span of an audience to that of a gold fish. And if you don’t have a plot twist, just forget about it.

So I’ve had to make a few changes to my escape artist show I’ve been running for the past eight years at one of second tier hotels in Las Vegas.  It’s always been a successful endeavor, but audience tastes are constantly changing and if I don’t keep up I’ll be out of business and forgotten as fast as the last guy was.  So that’s why I decided to part ways with my previous business manager, and hired a new one who came highly recommended from a friend of mine who just happens to be a successful female escape artist performing in her own show in Tokyo.  When I flew her in for an interview over a two week break we had last year, I fell in love with her style, energy, and creativity the moment we met.  Not only does she have the most intimate pulse on what trends are emerging in the industry, she also looks really, really good in her red skin tight PVC catsuit (more on that later!).  My previous business manager understood my desire to change things up, and was genuinely excited to try something new.  The severance package I gave her was very generous, but it also helped that she’s made enough money as my manager for the past ten years to retire at the very healthy age of 32.  She was finally free to move back to Minnesota and build her dream home on one of its 10,000 lakes.

So my new manager started almost immediately after accepting my job offer.  She relocated to Las Vegas within a week, and started putting her signature touches on my show right away.  I told her that I wanted my show to become one of the top three shows in Las Vegas within three years.  She was convinced that was possible, but only if I learned to trust her completely.  No matter what.  She came to me so highly recommended, that I was paying her way too much money to not trust her anyway.  So I  gave her complete control over the technical, artistic, and aesthetic aspects of my show.  Basically everything.  I would retain all control over personnel and finances, but the rest was hers to either make or brake.  Because of the size of my show, I have a staff of over twenty engineers, technicians, and on-stage talent.  Even though the ‘on-stage talent’ are the ones who mainly do the binding during my stage shows, everyone knows I expect them to participate in every aspect of running this show.  We have a lot of fun together, but for me that means I’m either chained down, locked up, or strapped into something as the hijinks are unfolding in front of me.  I wouldn’t have it any other way.  Everyone fell in love with my new manager, and have learned to trust her completely with the new direction we were taking, too!

The changes my new manager started making as soon as she was hired (a year ago now. how time flies!) were instantly successful.  She found a way to blend parts of her Japanese culture, technology, and even some steam punk in a way that no one has ever seen before.  People were definitely taking notice in my show now, and our shows were usually sold out weeks in advance.  In fact we became so successful in that first year, that we are actually negotiating with a major hotel on the Strip to become their featured show after their current celebrity act retires in a few months.  They love our show, but need a little more convincing that we can fill their 500 seat auditorium every night for the next five years.  I have to admit that I have my doubts about that too, buy my manager keeps saying that she has something in the works that will seal the deal.  She won’t tell me what it is (she’s always secretive about things she’s planning, until she has every detail worked out).  From what I’ve seen from her so far, I know it is going to be amazing!

As I said, she started making very successful changes to my show almost immediately after I hired her a year ago.  The first thing she changed was the old costumes we wore. People today don’t want to watch a two hour stage show with a guy wearing black pants and a black t-shirt.  Same goes for the magician’s assistants, too.  The days of assistants in leotards are over.  We tried a lot of different costumes, but quickly discovered that audiences had a strong reaction to me and my assistants wearing skin tight PVC catsuits during our entire show.  My suit is a bold blue color that fits me absolutely skin tight from its high neck to the stirrups looped over my thumbs and the soles of my feet.  Sometimes it fits a bit too tight in spots, but my audiences seem to like the sense of vulnerability that gives me.  Because every one of my employees is expected to participate in my shows at some level, they all wear identical catsuits.  Except the suits the girls wear are gray in color, while the guys wear black suits.  Even my manager wears a gray catsuit when she’s on site with us.  So basically everyone wears PVC catsuits all the time around here, now.  Even when we are training.  And I have to admit, everyone looks really good in these suits!

This affinity towards watching shows with my assistants and I in skin tight PVC catsuits is particularly evident during the part of my routine where I invite members of the audience to come on stage and inspect my body to make sure I’m not hiding anything that can assist me in my next escape attempt.  We really wanted to get a lot of audience participation in this part of the show, so we created something we call the Inspection Chamber.  It’s basically two vertical twelve inch square steel posts permanently anchored to the floor near the front left of the stage.  The posts are painted black with a high gloss, and are surrounded by a ten foot square halo of bright blue light built flush into the ground.  The posts are eight feet tall, and spaced precisely six feet – four inches apart (my height).  Attached to each post is a set of heavy six inch wide black leather restraints (one at the top, and one at the bottom) that have chains welded to metal rings constructed within them.  These chains are fed through openings at the top and bottom of the steel posts, and are permanently fastened to a winch mechanism constructed under the stage.  The winch is activated by a touch screen device fixed to the left pole (it’s really just an iPad with a custom app we built ourselves) that allows the user to increase/decrease the tension on the chains by moving a slider up and down on the screen.  There are safety mechanisms built into the winch system to prevent pulling my arms and legs too hard, but speaking from personal experience I think my new manager has the tension limits set a bit too high.  She disagrees, and refuses to give me the access code to change it.  She just keeps reminding me to trust her…

When we are ready for the audience to come up and inspect me for contraband before starting the next escape attempt, the square halo of blue light surrounding the Inspection Chamber comes on.  I stand in the area between the two posts and my assistants wearing their tight black and gray PVC catsuits lock the leather restraints onto my wrists and ankles.  I’m also then fitted with a pair of goggles we made that have the lenses completely blacked out, and a leather panel gag that fills my mouth and covers the lower half of my face.  Based on feedback from various focus groups, we discovered that we would get better audience participation if members of the audience didn’t have to worry about being harassed while they were on the stage.  The focus groups showed us that women were uneasy coming on stage because they feared I would say things to embarrass them, while men felt slightly intimidated by me watching them and didn’t want to get into a “stare down contest [sic]” while they were inspecting me.  I have to admit I was skeptical over these findings at first, but my manager insisted that her market research was accurate and convinced me to add the gag and blindfold to the act whenever I’m locked inside the Inspection Chamber.  To her credit, once we implemented the blindfold/gag combination to this part of the show, audience participation went through the roof!

It used to be that we had to coax the audience to get just one or two volunteers to come up and search me for hidden escape tools.  But the Inspection Chamber has gotten so popular with my audiences that we’ve had to implement a seven minute time limit for each inspection just to keep the show moving.  The time remaining is shown on a big red LED clock that is mounted on top of one of the metal posts I’m chained to.  We’ve also removed the limits on the number of audience members who can be on stage and inspecting me at the same time while I’m in the Inspection Chamber.  I tried to convince my manager that the seven minute rule wasn’t the best idea, as it’s quite difficult to concentrate on the next escape attempt while 10 – 15 men and women (I never know how many audience members are actually on stage, because I’m always blindfolded before they are asked to come up) are rubbing their hands up and down my body looking for hidden tools through my skin tight blue PVC catsuit.  But she is very persuasive, and refuses to back down from the changes she has made to this part of the routine.  She keeps showing me the nightly feedback we get from our audiences, which clearly indicates this is the favorite part of our entire show for most people.  I guess if this is selling more tickets, we probably won’t change it any time soon.

In fact, I think the apparent lack of trust she thought I was showing her is what caused the mysterious mishap with that LED timer on top of the Inspection Chamber during my most recent show.  The timer worked perfectly in my pre-show walkthrough, but apparently it failed about half way through the first set.  After about twenty minutes of working on it, my engineers determined they couldn’t fix it and just tracked the time with a stop watch they conveniently had available.  The kicker was that they didn’t ask any of the dozen or so audience members who were already on stage when the clock broke to leave.  Actually, they never even told them to stop checking my body for hidden tools as they tried to repair the broken timer.

I’m pretty sure my manager set me up to make me stop questioning the changes she was making to my show.  Besides the clock mysteriously breaking for no reason at all, the lengthy inspection I received from my audience members was much different than anything I’ve experienced before.  The instant my engineers told the audience the show was being delayed as they looked into the problem with the timer, I felt the chains attached to the restraints on my wrists and ankles retract.  I was already stretched out to the highest setting allowed by the software controlling the winch system, so this new movement in the chains locked to my wrist and ankle restraints meant that someone knew how to override the tension settings.  There are only two people in the world who know the passcode for this application.  I am one of them.  My manager is the other…

The Inspection Chamber was built to be inescapable, and I know it is from being chained within it’s unrelenting grasp for 164 shows now (not counting the mandatory two-a-day training sessions my manager insists on now).  So instead of struggling against the increasing tension slowly pulling me apart, I forced myself to relax as my manager’s kinky game began to unfold.  It only took a few moments for the winches to stretch me out tight enough so that only my toes were touching the floor.  And just barely, at that!  Eventually the winches stopped pulling in the chains welded to my restraints, leaving me stretched out so tight I literally could not move.  Breathing was difficult, but I’ve been tied up this tight many times before in those two-a-day training sessions, and have learned how to use isolated muscles in my abdomen to make up for my lack in mobility.  I knew from that experience that my breaths were going to be shallow and rapid, but if I kept calm there was nothing to worry about.  But keeping calm was going to be a problem…

At the same time I was being stretched out to the point of breaking, there was a noticeable change in the behavior of the audience members inspecting my body.  The hands that were previously patting me down looking for hidden tools that could be used to assist in my pending escape attempt, were now behaving in a much more intimate manner.  A much more erotic manner.  Instead of following the minimal rules we always have in place preventing unnecessary groping, the audience members who were on the stage when the timer broke were now fully molesting my body.  There were finger tips every where!  From the tips of my nipples to the soles of my feet, there wasn’t an inch of the PVC stretched over my body that wasn’t being assaulted by fingertips.  There were dozens of them focused on the back of my knees, thighs, butt, abdomen, and arm pits.  However, the ones gently rubbing over my crotch and nipples were the worst.  I needed to concentrate on breathing, but I couldn’t.  The only thing I could concentrate on were those finger tips on my nipples and crotch playing my stretched out body like a harp.  I tried to scream for help, but couldn’t.  I tried to escape, but couldn’t.  I was helplessly locked in tight bondage between two immovable metal posts, and because I have been like this every night since hiring my new manager a year ago, everyone thought that what was happening on stage was all part of the act.  And since I was gagged and tied up so tightly, there was no possible way for me to communicate to them that I needed their help badly!

I have to admit that my manager’s plan was brilliant; distracting me with the winches tightening my bondage, then letting me slowly realize what was going on to my tightly catsuited body at the same time I was trying to figure out just how to breath again.  She knows how I think, and she knows how to get her way.  The erotic torment I was experiencing in front of over 250 people was really known to just me and my manager.  Wait…  What about the audience volunteers who had come up on the stage to inspect me while I was chained inside of the Inspection Chamber.  There is absolutely no way their relentlessly kinky assault on my bound body could have been coordinated with the winches tightening my bondage.  Unless…  Wait…  That means they knew this was going to happen.  My staff knew this was going to happen!  Everyone knew this was going to happen!  Except for me.

The moment I realized this very public retaliation by my manager was actually a well orchestrated event involving dozens of my most trusted employees and friends, I became more turned on than I have ever been in my life.  The effort of everyone working together to get me here in this position without me knowing about it must have taken a lot of planning.  What other ideas did they consider?  What else do they have planned for me?  A lot of things were starting to make sense now.  Like why my manager made a change to the end of our two-a-day practice sessions a few weeks ago, where she now has my assistants lock my arms together behind my back in a really tight leather arm binder and then suspend me upside down by a custom made leather bondage boot that binds my legs tightly together from my knees downward.  There is a metal grommet sewn into the bondage boot right behind my knees that they lock one end of a short chain to.  The other end of that short chain is then locked to a similar grommet at the tip of the single sleeve arm binder.  That way, my arms don’t get too tired from me having to hold them towards my feet as I’m hanging upside down.  At least that’s what they say.

My manager did a good job explaining this new addition to my practice routine as a way to train for a new daring escape challenge she wants me to add to the show to win over that new hotel contract.  But she wants to know if I can escape from these restraints first before she was going to tell me what it was.  I am always interested in adding exciting things to my increasingly popular stage production, so I agreed to add this new escape attempt to my practice sessions.  So for the past few weeks, I’ve allowed my assistants to bind me and suspend me upside down like this for an hour after each practice session just to see if I can escape.  They stick around for a few minutes to make sure I’m comfortable, before leaving the room to let me try and figure out an escape sequence in private.  However, before they leave they always strap the panel gag we use in the Inspection Chamber around my lower face to make sure I’m not hiding anything in my mouth.  It’s because of this constant focus on details that I love working with my crew so much!

It’s also because of this attention to detail that I’ve never come close to escaping from this devious escape challenge!  The single-sleeve arm binder fits as skin tight as the blue catsuit I wear in my practice sessions and in my shows.  The chain locking the end of the arm binder to the suspension boot is actually pretty short (too short?), and unless I severely arch my back there is absolutely no slack on the leather harness at the top of the arm binder that is strapped and locked around my neck and shoulders.  Actually, the arm binder fits so tight that my elbows nearly touch behind my back.  When I’m struggling against my bondage and analyzing my squirming body from the inverted position I’m bound in, it looks like I don’t have any arms at all.  Just about the only thing I can see when looking upwards is my abdomen flexing in and out trying to inhale enough oxygen to feed my burning muscles, and my erection pressing against the skin tight material of my catsuit.  It’s both a blessing and a curse that my suits fit so skin tight, because when I get excited by these bondage escape attempts (as I usually do), there is little left to the imagination by anyone watching me struggle.  For some reason, this new escape challenge was really turning me on.  I doubt this response to my frequent captivity is ever lost on my assistants, as there are always brush ups against my crotch area when they are either strapping me down to something or releasing me when I fail to get loose on my own.  This touching happens a lot more often lately when they have to ultimately let me down and release me from this impossible arm binder and bondage boot combination.  As I have said, I haven’t come close to escaping from it even once.

Back to my current position…

As I tried to pull against the inescapable restraints keeping me chained up and stretched out in the Inspection Chamber, it was like a bolt of lightening hitting me when I suddenly put everything together!  I realized it was at the same time my manager added the suspended arm binder escape challenge to my two-a-day practice sessions, that I noticed some small changes in the behavior of my staff.  Very small changes.  And it wasn’t until right now now that I had the luxury of 20/20 hindsight to put everything together.  Secrecy.  Timid glances.  Mischievous looks.  Seemingly random and accidental touches to intimate parts of my body while I was restrained in one of my bondage devices.  They were all in on this! EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THEM!  The newly added suspended escape attempt was not a test of my escapology skills.  I can’t escape from that.  No one can!  It was the easiest way for them to keep me out of the way for at least two hours every sing day, as they planned and practiced for whatever they had in store for me tonight!

I have never felt more vulnerable and excited in my entire life!

My extremely limited movement suddenly changed from that of someone wanting to escape, to someone tying to move their hips and chest in a manner wanting to attract the most erotic attention possible.  I wanted every single finger tip rubbing over my body to focus on my nipples, groin, and my thighs (yes, my thighs are another part of my body that can betray me).  I don’t think this change in MY behavior was lost on the dozen captors now tormenting me, because they did exactly that!  Within seconds of me changing my struggles, every single finger running up and down my body migrated to one of those sensitive regions.  I no longer cared about the four remaining escape attempts that were still scheduled for the remainder of this show.  I only wanted to be pushed over the edge.  And that’s exactly what was about to happen.

And then it all stopped.  Everything just stopped…

To be continued!

(Part 1), Part 2, Part 3

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