by R

Illustrations by R

Originally published in Bondage Life No.  7, July 1980

Scanned and Transcribed by guardian46w

Story Codes: F/f, bondage consensual, public, act, rope, gag, hogtie, X

Some months ago, while drinking alone in a hotel bar in Mexico City, I struck up a conversation with two attractive Canadian ladies.  One was a striking brunette with a long slim body and full breasts, shown to advantage by her tan glove-leather suit.  Her legs were encased in tight-fitting shiny brown high-heeled boots.  The other lady was shorter, with short-cropped blonde hair and a rather childish quality to her face.  She was truly petite, but with ample breasts and a tight rounded bottom, all of which was accentuated by a black satin sheath dress.  Her tiny feet were shod in stiletto-heeled patent leather pumps.  Due to the contrast in their dress, physical qualities and their sisterly closeness, I assumed them to be lesbians.

It as Tina, the brunette, who did most of the talking.  Lynn, the blonde, seemed to be having trouble focusing and staying upright at the bar and it looked as if she was ready to be carried out.  In fact, that’s just what Tina and I did shortly thereafter.  When Lynn was safely tucked in bed to sleep it off, Tina and I sat on the hotel balcony talking until the wee hours.

It turned out they were a road act traveling from city to city doing one-night stands.  And they were very successful.

“So, why don’t you book for more than one show?” I asked.

“We can’t,” Tina answered, “I can’t explain it now, but we simply can’t.”  I was puzzled and said so.  “Come see the show tomorrow night.”  And Tina gave me the name of a very posh hotel in the Zona Rosa section of the city.

“Is it a singing act or a dancing show, or what?” I asked.  They both had the athletic bodies of dancers.

“Neither,” she replied, “It’s an escape act… a bondage show.  But it’s nothing like you have ever seen before.”

Naturally, I was hooked and I was at the hotel showroom the next night right on time.

There must have been 200 people jamming the place.  There were couples and single men of all ages and a singing act was on when I arrived.  They performed on a semi-circular stage at one side of the room separated from the tables by a small dance floor.  Behind the stage were curtains.

When the singing was over, there was a dramatic drum roll from the band and Tina strode from the wings and stood in the spotlight.  She wore tight leather riding breeches and high black boots with thin spike heels.  On top she wore a brief black bikini bra, and her long raven hair hung down her back and over her bare shoulders in lustrous waves.  She looked absolutely magnificent and elicited a wild ovation.  She spoke into the microphone in perfect Spanish (the night before she had told me that between them, they spoke five languages).  In translation this is what she announced:

Ladies and gentlemen, etc.  Tonight, you are going to witness some of the most sensational and stimulating examples of the art of escape you will ever see.  My partner, Lynn, will be bound with ropes in the most tormenting and impossible situations you can imagine, and she will escape.  Every time she will manage to free herself from seemingly impossible bondage.  So, sit back and let your imaginations and your fantasies run wild.  Try to imagine yourself in each situation.  Put yourself in Lynn’s shoes, so to speak, and decide if you could escape as she does.  Or perhaps you men, might fantasize about subjecting my lovely partner to such abject helplessness.  So, without further words, here’s Lynn!

Lynn minced onto the stage; her long lovely legs shining in black silk stockings, her feet accentuated by classic high-heeled patent opera pumps.  She wore only a tiny red vinyl bikini and shoulder length black kid gloves.  Her short blonde hair glowed under the spotlight as she pirouetted in front of Tina and the audience.  She looked the epitome of childish-womanly innocence.  The perfect damsel for distress.  She turned, put her hands behind her back with the wrists crossed and looked over her shoulder at the audience.  A provocative smile, a lowering of her eyelids, and then a pout.  She had them then, and Tina soon had her.

From the left, stagehands pushed a high pipework contraption with curtains all round.  It was somewhat like a portable shower stall.  And there was a low table with coils of rope in great profusion.  Tina took some rope and immediately started tying Lynn’s hands while talking to the audience.

“First, I will bind my lovely victim here in the conventional basic bind with her arms drawn back at the elbows, wrists crossed and snugly roped together, some body wrappings around the whole package to insure as little struggle as possible, then knees and ankles together.  Tina stood back and gestured toward her helpless assistant.  Lynn stood there in the spotlight in all her bound glory and there was a smattering of applause.
“Now, who would like to examine my rope work?  Who would like to test the tightness of the ropes and look for trick knots and such?”

Several eager volunteers came up onto the stage to check Lynn’s helplessness, and, after some self-conscious probing and testing, they seemed satisfied as to the impossibility of her escaping.

“Could you escape if you were tied up that way?” Tina asked a lady in the audience who was seated near the stage.  She shook her head in a decisively negative way.  Then Tina drew the curtains around Lynn’s erect, trussed-up body and said.  “We’ll give her two minutes.”

The band struck up a fast tune as Tina walked up and down in front of the curtained area.

The band stopped.  A drum rolled, and Tina threw back the curtains with a flourish.  There stood a beaming Lynn, free and with all the ropes on the floor at her feet.  There was a burst of applause as both girls bowed.

Well, as the night wore on, Tina bound Lynn in four more ways, each one more intricate and secure than the last.  And it was quite exciting to see her helplessness turn to freedom each time.

Lynn was hogtied, seated with her arms drawn far up behind her shoulder blades, and with her knees to her body and her ankles to her thighs.  She was tied wrists to ankles in a sitting position, and she was tied with her wrists in front with her elbows behind her and her ankles crossed and drawn up to her body ropes.  For the last two positions several in the audience suggested a gag in case she was using her teeth to untie the knots.  So, Tina gagged Lynn, first with a long silken scarf wound several times around her head, and then with a red rubber ball gag and strap arrangement.  Each binding looked very tight, very secure and progressively cruel.  From where I sat, I could see the rope marks on Lynn’s body, but she didn’t object and keep on smiling as if she enjoyed the challenge presented to her each time.

For the last two escapes the girls indulged in some good old-fashioned showmanship.  “We’ll give her three minutes on this one,” Tina suggested on number three, “Okay?” and the audience agreed.  After all, she was gagged this time.

When the curtain was drawn at three minutes there lay Lynn on her side still bound and gagged and struggling frantically, apparently unable to escape.  There were laughs from the audience and some good-humored remarks.  “How about thirty seconds more?” Tina asked as she bent down over Lynn.  Lynn nodded her head frantically.

“Shall we allow her a half minute more?” the room agreed.  No one thought she could manage it this time, but she did.  When the curtain parted Lynn stood in the spotlight calm, serene and unfettered.  Similarly, the fourth escape seemed to fail, and then finally succeeded.  The audience went wild.

After Lynn’s last ‘impossible’ escape, Tina turned to the cheering audience and raised her hands.  “Now for her final escape we would like to invite any three of you from the audience to bind Lynn in any way you like.”

Immediately about a dozen men rushed forward to volunteer.  Tina picked three of the most eager and started to bring them onto the stage, but three women came forward and talked to her.  It turned out they were the wives and they didn’t like the idea of their husbands in such close proximity to such a lovely girl as Lynn.  One of them explained to Tina that they were sure they could do the tying better than the men, and that they knew Lynn couldn’t escape when they got through with her.

“Alright,” Tina announced, “We have here three lovely ladies who are very sure of their bondage skills.  They claim that they can bind the beautiful Lynn so there will b e no hope of her escape.  There is ample rope here, some effective gags and even a few leather straps.  And if they succeed each one will have a bottle of champagne to share with their rather eager husbands.”  There was laughter at this last remark.

“Proceed, ladies.”

After a brief discussion they went to work on poor Lynn.  First her hands were crossed behind and bound with many crisscrosses of thin rope.  A strand was attached to the wrist bonds and led between her legs and up to about six turns which were wrapped around her waist and over her wrist bindings.  Lynn’s elbows were drawn snugly together with eight turns of larger rope and cinched together.  Then her upper body above and below her swelling breasts was strapped with many turns of shinning nylon rope which was cinched at every possible point and secured to a rope harness which ran around behind her neck under each armpit and then around her elbow bindings.  There wasn’t a loose millimeter of rope on Lynn’s beautiful body.  You could see the ropes cutting into her flesh and her chest rose and fell in heavy breathing, but, though she was treated roughly, she continued to smile in a knowing and arrogant way as the three women worked on her.  At times she gasped as a strand was cinched tighter, but she smiled with insolent disdain until one of the ladies forced the ball gag into her mouth and drew the straps cruelly tight.

After that they pushed her into a kneeling position and then onto her stomach.  She turned her head to one side and watched as they wrapped her knees, cinched them, laced and cinched her tights with great lengths of rope and crossed and tied her ankles.  They even tied her feet around and over her arches and under the insteps of her spike heels shoes.  Then they ran several strands of rope between the ankle bonds and drew her feet high up behind her thighs until her leather-gloved fingers touched the shining patent leather heel of one shoe.  Then, to add insult to injury, this last ankle rope was tied down to her thigh ropes and she was rolled over on her side facing the audience.

Lynn was so securely tied up that I couldn’t see how she could ever escape.  But she had done so before.  I knew she would do it somehow, but I couldn’t want to be in her position right now.

“Good work, ladies,” Tina said and she had them bow to the applause.  “How long should we give her?  What about five minutes since you did such an expert job?” they agreed and returned to their tables.

For five minutes the band played and several couples danced and then the drum rolled for the last time.  With a flourish Tina threw back the curtain.  Lynn lay on her other side with her back to the audience.  Her glove fingers fluttered weakly and her head lifted slightly then fell back down in a despairing attitude.  Tina looked incredulous.  She rolled Lynn onto her stomach and leaned down to her.  “Are you finally defeated?” she asked.  “Shall I cut you loose?”

You could see the frustration and anger in the captive’s eyes as she shook her head violently and chewed her ball gag.  Shall we give her two more minutes?” Tina questioned the crowd.

They assented with a derisive and good-natured cheer.  But, at the end of two minutes Lynn was till lying there on her side, bound and gagged as effectively as anyone ever has been.  She was perspiring and limp with exhaustion, a lovely helpless package of female sexuality, a vision of the ideal damsel in destress.

Tina awarded the champagne and congratulated the ladies on their expertise at bondage.  She made a few teasing remarks about the suspicion she had that they might have practiced on their husbands from time to time.  There was much laughter and everyone seemed to have enjoyed the show and the surprising turn of events.  The main curtains were drawn together as Tina bowed and Lynn lay on the floor behind her still struggling ineffectually in her ropes.

Before the girls left for their next show in Acapulco, I had a talk with them.

“You see why we do only one show?” Tina asked.

“You mean it’s the same routine each time?”

“Sure, Lynn’s good, but we have special ways that enable her to escape and release my bindings.  We have practiced this act for years.  And there are always those in the audience, always women, it seems, who are sure they can tie her up better than I can.  There’s a good bit of jealousy there throughout the show, because their boyfriends and husbands are getting off on me and Lynn all night.  So, the women are all too glad to volunteer to make her pay.

Lynn agreed vehemently, “They sure do hate me by that last trick and we play on that hatred and jealousy.  Sometimes they pinch me secretly, and they are very rough with me too.”

“Does it hurt?” I asked.

“Oh, sure it does, but I just grin and bear it.”

“And have you ever escaped from that last volunteer binding?”

“There have been times when I knew I could get free, but I faked it and stayed tied.  After all, I enjoy being rendered helpless and that’s the whole object of our show.”