 |
|||
|
|
The Art of Escape
Re-visited
By Tyjord
To all my readers: Please note that although my stories do not contain any references to the permanent harm or death of characters, the scenarios presented are very extreme and would result in great physical harm or death if any of them were attempted in real life. My stories are fiction, and all the events depicted should be read with a willing suspension of disbelief. Even if the events portrayed were possible, they should not be attempted by any individual under any circumstances. These are fantasies written for the reading enjoyment of adults only.
The old, run-down waterfront neighborhood was deserted this late at night. Even the transients and homeless folks, usually scurrying from dumpster to dumpster in an attempt to build a meal, were nowhere in sight. The cool temperatures, coupled with a less than twenty-five percent occupancy rate, made this formerly bustling portside warehouse district undesirable even to them.
A rat, large and hungry, scurried alongside one of the buildings; its body casting a huge shadow as the headlights of the slowing SUV momentarily illuminated it. It scurried off as the vehicle came to a stop in front of the abandoned looking building. The two occupants, a young couple, stepped out of the car and approached the rusty steel door. The man reached into his pocket and produced a key. He held it up for the girl to see, before inserting it into the heavy padlock that secured an iron bar in place over the middle of the door. The padlock opened with a loud clank, and the man handed it to the girl, freeing his hands so that he could slide the iron bar from its two slots buried in the cement walls framing the door. He then unlocked two more padlocks, each holding two deadbolts in place, one at the top and one at the bottom of the door. He struggled to pull back the bolts that were heavy with rust and corrosion. After a moment of grunting, the top bolt slid back with a bang. Confident now, the man bent low and pulled at the bottom dead bolt. A horrible screeching of metal on metal preceded the bolts movement, and the girl through her hands over her ears in protest to the grating sound.
The man smiled at the girl, and with a push from his shoulder, opened the door. The couple replaced the padlocks on the deadbolts, ensuring that they remained open, then, moving the bar and remaining padlock to just inside the doorway, entered the pitch-black interior. The girl reached out with her hand and flicked a switch, turning on a row of flickering fluorescent lights that ran the length of the interior. She then stepped aside, allowing her companion to close the door behind them and slide another deadbolt, this one much newer in appearance and function, into place.
Together, they surveyed the building. The inside was a fairly large space, with heavily barred, dirty looking windows high up on the walls. The windows had recently been sprayed over with a special paint causing them to appear grainy and reflective when viewed from the outside. Strewn throughout the warehouse, large unidentifiable objects were covered by filthy, tattered tarps. There were many such objects strewn about, but the couple passed them by nonchalantly as they made their way to the rear of the building. At the far end, they stopped in front of a solid metal roll-up gate, like the ones used by retailers in bad neighborhoods. The gate was also secured by padlocks and bolts, a pair of which held it locked down to the floor at each end. In seconds, the locks were opened and removed, and the man pushed the red button on a wall-mounted junction box, activating the motor that began rolling up the gate.
They stood by patiently as the gate moved up slowly and noisily, more flickering lights coming on as the obstruction moved upwards. Beyond the gate, the interior took on an even dirtier, unused feel than the rest of the building. Numerous crates, containers, pallets and other paraphernalia lie strewn about in various states of disrepair. The floor, cold, hard, and made of smooth concrete, was covered in an uneven layer of dust. The duo moved inside, cautiously winding their way past the large pieces of discarded debris. At the end of this smaller room, the pair stopped and took in the sight before them.
“Well, Rick, looks like he couldn’t escape again,” the young woman said, mild annoyance apparent in her tone.
“It certainly looks that way, Melissa. I’m beginning to think my cousin isn’t as good at this as he claimed.”
The duo looked at the naked male form suspended ten feet above the floor in front of them. A four cuff metal spreader bar was locked to the wrists and ankles of the hanging male, drawing his knees up behind him and forcing his wrists down. The resulting arch enabled his wrists to be secured behind him in a straight line with his ankles. A stiff leather helmet was secured around the imprisoned male’s head, numerous straps and padlocks holding it in place. A chain ran from a ring at the top of the helmet and back to a centered ring on the spreader bar, positioned between the wrist cuffs. The chain forced the subjects head back, putting further strain on his back and shoulders. The center link of the connecting chain was impaled by a heavy-duty hook, which descended from a pulley attached to a beam high above. The hook held the full weight of the painfully restrained form as it swung slightly in the air.
Melissa grinned devilishly as she moved directly under the bound form, carefully stepping around some large puddles of water on the floor. Hanging at eye level were three metal weights, one weighing five pounds, and two smaller ones weighing one pound each. Carefully, the girl stepped in between the dangling weights and looked up. The five pound one was attached to the male’s testicles, stretching his split-tied ball sack down towards the floor. The smaller two were attached via cruel looking toothed metal clamps to his nipples, which were also painfully stretched downward and away from his body. With sadistic glee, Melissa gave each of the weights a push, causing the bound form to start swinging as its body reacted to the increased sensations.
Rick joined Melissa under the swinging form of his cousin, and used a large towel to wipe up the pooling water. “I thought for sure Justin would have gotten out of this before the ice melted and the weights fell.”
“Me too,” Melissa nodded in agreement as she playfully slapped the nipple weights back and forth. “But, he didn’t, so we’ll just have to try something else.”
They had left him then, still swinging from the ceiling, the weights pulling painfully at his balls and nipples, as they went back to the larger area of the warehouse.
After two hours of preparation, the pair returned and lowered him to the ground. Melissa had disconnected the weights as Rick lowered the tormented young man. Once he was positioned on the floor, Melissa went about unlocking and removing the heavy helmet. Underneath, Justin’s head was encased in another piece of headgear, this one a tight rubber hood. Rick bent down close to his cousin’s ear and spoke loudly.
“Okay Justin,” he said as he began unlacing the hood, “we’re going to be preparing you for your next great escape. Well, actually, if you get out, it’ll be your first successful escape in weeks. But, we have faith in you. Now remember, no struggling or resisting while we prep you, or we’ll just inject you with a sedative. Then you’ll wake up in your new predicament with absolutely no information. You wouldn’t want that, would you?”
A muffled groan was the only response that came from Rick’s younger cousin. Taking his silence as a sign of compliance, Rick continued unlacing the hood. Under the rubber, Justin’s head was even further restrained by a tight blindfold and mouth filling rubber plug gag. Rick left those in Place as Melissa set about releasing the boy’s hands.
“Remember,” Melissa said as she knelt behind him with the key to the spreader bar’s cuffs, “play along, or else.”
Justin remained immobile as he felt his arms being freed. Relief washed over him as he was finally able to move his arms after the long period of time he was hanging. But his relief was short lived as he felt his arms twisted up behind him into a painful reverse prayer position. Rick held his arms in place as Melissa fastened different cuffs to them. The new restraints were made of rough leather and steel, and connected his wrists back to back by only one link of metal.
“Ill never get over how flexible he is,” Melissa said as she finished with the cuffs and, with Rick still holding his arms, buckled and locked a wide posture collar in place around her boyfriend’s neck. Once that was locked on, it was a simple matter for Rick to slide another padlock through the ring at the back of the collar, and then slip the hasp through the link connecting the cuffs.
That done, the duo went to work on Justin’s legs and feet. Matching cuffs were placed around Justin’s ankles, and were followed by an odd looking metal brace. The brace fit over his cuffs, merging his ankles together. A molded metal piece went down from his ankles and covered the tops of his feet, forcing them to point downward. At the end of that section was a small set of metal cuffs that were snapped shut around his big toes. From the underside of the toe cuffs, a straight metal bar ran up and connected to the rear of the frame at his ankles. Rick began turning a specially shaped wrench, which he had inserted into the side of the metal foot frame. With each revolution, the device ratcheted tighter, forcing the young man’s feet into a straight line with his shins even as it pulled back on his toes.
Satisfied at the punishing level of tension, Rick stepped back to allow Melissa to buckle leather straps around Justin’s legs, above and below his knees, ensuring no possible separation of his legs. The pair then carried the bound boy out of the back room and laid him down next to his new trial. Justin’s blindfold was removed, and he began struggling fiercely when he saw the seven-foot tall glass cylinder filled with water.
The pair let him struggle for a few moments, watching the fear-filled young man strain futilely against his bonds. His thrashing died down fairly quickly, as the intense strained position of his arms, as well as the pressure on his collar, were enough to nudge him into submission. Satisfied with his realization of the inevitability of his predicament, Rick moved off to set up the larger, more mechanical portions of the escape, while Melissa devoted all of her attentions to continuing her boyfriend’s preparation.
“Just relax, sweetheart,” she said as she retrieved some items from a nearby table, “you don’t want to tire yourself out before the fun begins, do you?”
A muffled grunt was all that escaped from the bound boy, as she knelt down next to his head. Quickly, she undid the lock holding his gag in place, and pulled the large plug out of his mouth. With a wink, she immediately replaced it with another, more complicated one. The new gag was also rubber, and obviously inflatable. She stuffed the flaccid device into his mouth, inserting attached wing pieces in-between his cheeks and teeth. Once the device was in place within his oral cavity, his lips closed around a slick rubber guard piece that covered his teeth completely. Melissa then buckled and locked the gag’s straps in place behind Justin’s head, totally sealing off his mouth with the front pad. She then pulled a latex muzzle into place over the lower part of his face. Once it was secured, his face was completely covered by the shiny black device from just beneath his nose, to underneath his chin.
While Melissa was taking the steps to silence and seal off her boyfriend’s mouth, Rick had rolled over a pallet loaded with five large oxygen tanks. The tanks were secured to each other and the pallet to prevent their toppling over. Air hoses went from one tank to another, culminating at the lead tank that had several gauges, dials and tubes sticking out of its top. Rick carefully attached the tank’s tube to the end of another that trailed along the floor and disappeared under the water tank. He gave the tube a yank, and observed its path up through the tank and out through a gasket at the top of the ominous steel lid sealing the tank. Parallel to the tube, a length of heavy chain also ran the length of the tank, exiting the bottom and laid coiled on the floor. After checking over all of the gauges on the oxygen tank, Rick went over to a nearby chain descending from a pulley attached to a beam in the ceiling. He unlatched the clip holding it in place and began pulling downward. With a heavy creaking noise, the unsecured lid of the tank began lifting up, pulling the chain and air hose with it. He watched the chain and hose uncoil from the floor as they traveled up through the tank, following the lid. Manipulating the guide chain further, Rick maneuvered the tank’s cover to the side and began lowering it until it was about three feet off the ground. He then rejoined Melissa at Justin’s side.
The pair dragged the boy closer to the side of the tank and laid him flat on his back, his arms crushed by his weight and their strenuous position. Rick knelt down behind Justin’s head and firmly gripped it between his knees, while placing one hand on each of Justin’s shoulders, ensuring the boy’s immobility. Meanwhile, Melissa had retrieved the end of the air hose from the nearby lid and pulled it out until she had enough slack to reach Justin. She then attached the end of the hose to a Y-shaped adapter that split off into two thinner tubes approximately four inches in length. She then grabbed a toothpaste shaped tube from her pile of accessories, and straddled her boyfriend’s chest.
“Okay, baby,” she said soothingly, “this part won’t be fun, but it’s necessary. With your mouth all sealed up, were going to need to make sure you can breathe before you start your escape attempt.” She held up the twin tubes so he could see them. “These are going up your nostrils and into your sinus passages. See these little foam plugs? Well, they’re waterproof, and they are going to contract as they get squeezed into your nose, then once they pop through into your sinus cavity, they will expand again. That way, the tubes won’t come out on their own, and no water will be able to get in.” Justin’s eyes widened in fear as she continued to explain. “Of course we have to make sure that the tubes don’t get pulled out during your struggle to escape, and this is how we’re going to do that.” Melissa held up the tube and squeezed a glob of its contents onto each nasal plug. She then rubbed it around, coating each in a thick layer. “This is surgical glue. It acts just like superglue, except that it dissolves after a few days. Doctors use this stuff instead of stitches these days. Now, stay still. I have to seat the tubes before the glue starts to dry.”
Justin watched in horror as Melissa began sliding the first tube into his left nostril. He began to panic as he felt the tube slide further and further inside him. An intense burning and suffocating sensation, followed by an almost audible “plop” told him the first tube was in place. Melissa quickly followed up with the second tube, not allowing the boy any chance of recovery. Once installed, she yanked sharply on the tubes, causing tears to well up in Justin’s eyes. “There’s going to be some burning sensations as the glue dries and the plugs harden. Just try to relax and breathe normally.
Short labored breaths were all Justin could manage as he felt Rick release his head and move away. He came back with the end of the chain that ran through the tank. With little ceremony, he attached the chain via a strong lock to a D-ring attached to the gag strap that went over the top of Justin’s head. With help from Melissa, Rick then lifted the boy’s legs until they were just under the lid. Two short chains attached to the underside were secured to the sides of the ankle and foot brace. The positioning of his feet brought the tips of his pointed big toes right up against the underside of the lid. Another chain was hooked from there to his toe cuffs, ensuring no possible movement from Justin’s feet.
Melissa continued to support the boy’s legs as Rick moved back to the pulley chain and began lifting the lid higher. Melissa guided Justin’s inverted body into the air, keeping him from swinging too much as his shoulders and head left the ground. Once Justin’s rear end was even with Melissa’s chest, the upward movement stopped. “A few last things,” Melissa said as she retrieved more items. It only took a few moments for her to slide an eight-inch long inflatable butt plug into him. That was followed by the insertion of a long clipped shut catheter tube into his bladder. The plug and catheter were all part of a leather and rubber belt that she now locked around his waist. A rear strap ensured the plug would stay in place, while a tight rubber sheath was fitted over his catheterized penis, forcing it to point downward, between his legs. She then trailed the catheter tube behind him, and attached it to an intake valve on the base of his anal plug. Satisfied that any urine he needed to release during his trial would get safely tucked away, Melissa picked up an inflation bulb and proceeded to pump up the boy’s gag, plug and catheter balloon. She then motioned for Rick to continue raising him, while snapping open the clamp on the catheter. She smiled as a short stream of the boy’s golden fluid traveled down the tube and into his bowels.
Rick stopped once Justin was next to the tank, allowing Melissa to explain the situation. “Okay mister escape artist sir, you haven’t done too well lately, and we figured that might be because you situations have all been so mundane. Rick and I figured that it was time to really test you. I’m going to explain fast, so pay attention. By the way, the piss enema’s not really part of the escape. I just thought it would be more convenient. Anyway, you are about to be lowered into this tank of water. It is made of bulletproof glass, so you don’t need to worry about it accidentally shattering and ruining your escape. Once inside, the slack in your head chain and nasal tubes will be removed, and your head will be secured to the bottom of the tank. The lid will then be locked on, and you’ll be all set to start your escape.” She walked directly under him and smiled up at the boy. “Now, you may be wondering what your motivating factors will be. Allow me to explain. Even under the water, you will be able to just make out the gauge on the lead oxygen tank. As time passes, the amount of air you receive will go down, making it more difficult for you to struggle. Once the needle reaches the red ‘DANGER’ line, you will be getting only the barest minimum of oxygen. Pretty much only enough for you to hang there breathing slowly and deeply. Of course, that’s just to make your escape challenging. The real problem you will want to avoid comes from what happens once you hit the ‘DANGER’ zone. You see, the tank has some modifications, made by Rick of course,” she waved at Justin’s cousin pleasantly, as he, with a flourish, bowed deeply from the waist. “At the point when you are down to the minimum flow of oxygen, the water in the tank will begin to change temperature thanks to industrial heating and cooling units built into the base, lid and the metal frame of the cylinder. The water will either cool down rapidly to very near freezing, or heat up to almost scalding, based totally on a random program built in. The length of time the water remains chilled or heated, will also be random. Then, after the specific period of time has been reached, the water will return to room temperature, your oxygen will go back up to the starting point, and the cycle begins again.” Melissa gave Rick the thumbs up sign.
“Now remember cuz,” Rick said as he hoisted Justin over the center of the tank, “you shouldn’t have to deal with the majority of that unpleasantness. I expect you to be out of this tank before the oxygen level even reaches fifty percent.”
Justin felt himself swing into place over the water. He tried to calm down, consciously attempting to slow his breathing and heart rate. Right now, his nasal tubes were providing normal levels of oxygen, and he wanted to saturate his lungs before this new fruitless escape attempt began. Despite his best efforts, he still panicked as Rick began lowering him and his head went under water. He continued to breathe, fighting off the claustrophobic feel of being encased upside down in the small cylindrical tank. His shoulders rubbed up against the walls of the tank as he was dropped lower. He realized, just as he felt a tug on the chain attached to his head, that his reverse prayer arm position had been necessary to get him fully into the tank. Had his arms been at his sides, or even pulled behind his back, his shoulders would not have fit past the metal ringed top of the tank. His head was yanked hard as the slack in the chain and the tubes was removed. Despite his best attempts, he couldn’t even move his head upward an inch. Through the clear water and slightly warped plexiglass, he could just make out Melissa locking his head chain to a bolt in the floor. He tried to twist a bit, and found that he could see Rick standing next to the oxygen tank. Justin could just make out the large green numbers and ominous red markings. He began flopping around as much as the tight confines would allow as he saw his smirking cousin reach out and twist the valve on the lead air tank. Justin watched in horror as the gauge moved from one hundred percent, down to fifty. His breaths were much more shallow now as he tried to suck in more air than was being allowed to flow. He then shut his eyes in despair as he saw Melissa come up to Rick and embrace him, their lips locking in a deep, passionate kiss. Justin tried to remain calm and await the inevitable. His thoughts began to wander from the confirmation of the two’s relationship, to whether he was about to freeze or burn. He knew it would be awful either way and probably only a prelude to even more devious things these two would come up with for him.
Rick and Melissa spent the next twenty minutes cleaning up. Every now and then they would check the oxygen level. At just above the red zone, the duo decided to depart and leave Justin to his suffering.
“That party yesterday was pretty wild, no?” Rick asked as they gathered some stuff and headed back towards the door.
“Yeah, those ladies never cease to amaze me.”
“Pretty intense stuff. So, any ideas you want to pilfer for our needs, Mel?”
“Well, I was thinking. I see no reason why Justin shouldn’t be recycling all of his enemas. It seems like such a waste to not utilize his waste properly.”
“Like those two male slaves?”
“Uh huh. Besides, it wouldn’t be very eco-friendly if we didn’t. We can start by feeding him his piss enema after we take him out of the tank. He should be good and full by then.”
“Sounds like a plan, Mel,” Rick said as he held the heavy metal door open for the girl. Reaching over, Rick shut the lights just as the sound of heavy refrigeration machinery began to hum in the background. He closed the door behind him and slid all the bolts, bars and locks into place, ensuring that nothing would disturb the artist at work within.
|
|
|