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Escape Artist Bondage Stories
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I felt I was the luckiest guy in the world. I could hardly imagine that a sexpot celebrity would live such a lonely, isolated life in her giant mansion. Who would have thought she would try dangerous illusions in her home studio without supervision. I seemed to have found a niche both as a boyfriend and assistant. Whatever her hang-up, I was about to get as close to her physically as two people can get without having sex.

Name: Darla

My age: 43
Ethnicity: Canadian
I speak: English, Portuguese
I like: Roller-skating

So, after the tape had been — painfully — removed, and the damp bundle of hosiery eased out of her mouth, Eloise did her best to explain, in as calm, light-hearted and rational a manner as she could muster, the truth of the odd looking situation that Maria had stumbled across. Eloise was impressed. Eloise tested her handiwork, causing a muffled gasp to elude her gag, as the stringency of the rope produced a sound which encompassed both pleasure and pain in equal measure; pleasure at the knowledge that she was now strictly hog-tied, but pain from the sharp cutting sensation that seared through her limbs every time she moved.

Would you regag me, put the hood back on, and just leave me here to my own devices?

Closing the door, she made a great play of padlocking the stout container, before pulling a curtain across the stage to render this invisible to the punters. The reinsertion of her head in the constricting latex hood soon followed.

Her long blonde, wavy hair swung freely around her shoulders. So, the question has to be asked, was Eloise a phoney; an imposter who claimed that she had mastered the hidden talents of escapology, when in reality, all the while she was conning her fans? For dramatic effect, there followed a drum roll of several seconds duration, after which the screen was swiftly thrown back. The Escapologist - Part One. Her tight black spandex cat-suit glistened in the light as she moved, highlighting every inch of her svelte body and elegant figure.

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Even now, without the use of her fingers, it looked to all the world as if Eloise was trapped inside an off-white cocoon, but the real fun was only just about to start. One condition though.

The canvas sack worked on the same principle as the straitjacket. And as her hunger for still stricter bonds increased, she began to find self-bondage frustrating and no longer particularly satisfying. As she moved into her mid to late teens, a series of boyfriends came and went, Escape artist bondage stories allowed Eloise, with varying degrees of success, to experience the delights of sex whilst in bondage.

The various wooden cabinets and metal boxes all had simple release mechanisms built into them, which could effortlessly be operated, even in pitch darkness. Feeling around in her blindness, her fingers soon located the, until now, redundant rope, threaded this over her wrist bond, and pushed her right hand into the remaining close fitting circle.

Likewise the padlocks were fake and simply fell away when twisted in the right direction or pressure was applied to them. Tight and secure enough for you? Thus, when her act finally came to its conclusion, Eloise exited the stage with everyone who had witnessed her audacious performance enraptured and baying for an encore.

Nor had it ever before manifested in the physical sphere; her fascination being on a more cerebral or intellectual level, as if she was happy to study and observe from a distance.

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There were a wolf-whistles and whoops of delight mixed in amongst the applause from the male clientele of the club as she took her bow. That I take the spare key to your flat with me and look in on you tomorrow morning. But of course, in the event Eloise said none of these things. It would, she knew straightaway, take a long while for her to work her way free from this well executed set-up.

Her smile, as she unfurled the garment for the audience to see, revealed a set of immaculately gleaming teeth. For the truth of the matter was that the straitjacket could be loosened easily by cords hidden within the sleeves, which when tugged on automatically released the straps, after which it was relatively easy to wriggle out of. Seconds later, the sensation of latex brushing against her hair as it slipped towards the top of her skull, preceded the return of daylight.

The chance circumstance which brought about the realisation that Maria might be of some use to her in a bondage capacity, occurred one day soon after Eloise had left the family home and set herself up in her new one bedroom apartment overlooking Ipswich waterfront. Nor did she fully understand — even to this day — why such a supposedly repugnant event, i.

And although she had no desire to experience the latter, she was amenable to helping her friend into — and, of necessity, out of - all manner of extreme bondage scenarios which Eloise came up with, but could only dream about without assistance.

The one-piece outfit, with inbuilt feet and gloves, covered her almost entirely, save for her head and neck. Maria sat open-mouthed as Eloise nervously began her monologue on the joys of bondage, and how she had been doing this sort of thing for years. But this was only a small part of her story. And each bracelet of the handcuffs was equipped with a small, almost Escape artist bondage stories, button which released the ratchets and allowed the wearer to slip her hands free. Each strap boasted an appropriately positioned metal buckle as its counterpart, situated on the opposite side of the garment.

She was expecting no visitors, so would have to deal with this alone if she was to successfully escape her bonds. And thus began a bondage odyssey which was to shape and influence almost every facet of her life. So that, by the time Eloise finally ran out of things to say, her friend had an almost knowing smile on her face.

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But as is often the case in such matters, the answer to her problem was right under her nose the whole time. Her first-hand experiences of either tying or being tied were therefore non-existent.

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And this was only the opening round of a spellbinding routine, which saw her also escape seemingly effortlessly from handcuffs and chains whilst swinging upside down by her ankles from several feet above the ground; a canvas sack, its opening tied and sealed, before entry into which her limbs had been immobilised with what looked like inescapable rope ligatures; and a metal box, from which there seemed no way of breaking out after it had been wrapped with sturdy chains and secured with numerous padlocks.

So the sound of someone ringing the bell to her apartment came as quite a surprise to the now severely bound twenty one year old. In truth, most of them got bored and found girlfriends with whom they could have a two-way conservation without having to interpret what their partner was trying to say through a sound muffling gag of some description. After half a minute or so of this show of helplessness, however, her assistant wheeled on a wooden cabinet from the wings - tall enough for a person of average height to stand in and about three feet deep and of similar width - before ushering Eloise inside.

Things were not exactly as they seemed, however. The assistant worked quickly now, with no resistance from her engulfed captive. For such solo practices had to, by their very nature, be escapable.

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Are you here? Add to list. For after only a few seconds of contemplation, Maria shrugged.

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The canvas outfit could now be seen for what it was, namely a straitjacket, with sturdy leather straps attached to it at strategic points, such as the arms, back and crotch area. Tying herself up with anything that was to hand, such as neck-ties, ribbons, string etc.

Well, yes she was.

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This was followed by the crotch strap, pulled through from its anchorage at the back, hoisted as high as it could go much to the amusement of some members of the paying public and buckled tightly on the lower abdomen. After a few seconds of Maria showing off this unusual apparel to the captivated few, Eloise moved forwards and placed her arms into the sleeves with help from her colleague. Who did this to you!? Turning her victim around, she dexterously threaded and secured each strap hanging from the left hand side — five in — to its appropriate buckle on the right; thus enclosing Eloise in the canvas from neck to waist.

Just to make sure you did actually manage to get out in the end. And furthermore, she was quite happy to remain in her current state for some time to come, thank you very much. And so, being an inquisitive girl, Eloise had decided to investigate in order to find out more. But that, of course, was all part of the fun.

Swiftly, the last straps, until now hanging loosely at the hand end of either sleeve, were pulled around her and buckled securely so that her arms were hugging her body in a tight embrace from which there was no way of extricating herself. To gasps of surprise, followed by much adoring applause and great cheers, Eloise stood before her public, completely unfettered, with the cabinet door standing wide open and the discarded straitjacket lying in a crumpled heap at her feet.

No, her affiliation with handcuffs, straitjackets and such like went much deeper than that. By contrast to the star of the show, this glamorous assistant was dressed in a sequin-covered white leotard, white tights and high-heeled shoes. As was her wont, Eloise had decided to pamper herself with a little self-bondage session that Saturday afternoon.

But now her revelations had received as good a reaction as she could have hoped for, she had other things on her mind. And at first, these try-outs were of a simple nature, with Eloise being unversed in the processes of cinching and such like, and also wary that, should she push things too far, then she would be stuck and have to go through the embarrassment of alerting her parents — or even worse, one of her brothers — in order to get free.

With both hands now side by side, palm to palm, she pulled as hard as she could in an upwards direction. Finding someone on the same wavelength as herself, however, proved problematic. And the only way to achieve this goal would involve an alliance being struck with a person or persons amenable to helping her indulge her passion. As the initial ovation gradually subsided, another woman - Maria - walked slowly onto the stage from Escape artist bondage stories left, an off-white item of clothing hanging loosely over her right arm.

In fact, it had been an obsession ever since she could remember. Are you in El? Should she stay perfectly quiet and hope that Maria went away? Eloise squirmed in her bonds. And as her publicity posters made no grand claims that she could get out of anythingbut merely used the Houdini name to stir the image of such powers, really no such accusations could be levelled at her. And as she did so, she felt the whole ligature tighten ificantly, as both the knot behind her wrists, and the one mooring her hands to her ankles, shrunk to embrace the contours of her flesh.

So it took a complete Escape artist bondage stories - or was it synchronicity?

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