Bob Wingate's Blog: Escape Artist Challenges

I've posted a fair number of escape artist stories in recent months. So many guys played at being young Houdinis during childhood and adolescence, since that was a legitimate way of getting tied up even when your parents were around. In July I put up a story by a real escape artist in which he told about how he became a professional. In his follow-up, below, he described some of his most memorable experiences.

This is one of the few stories for which we actually did a story-specific photo shoot. I've posted some of these photos before.

ESCAPE ARTIST STUMPED BY BODY BUILDER AND SWIMMER WITH SINISTER SMILE

ESCONDIDO, CA. Thanks for printing recollections from my career as an escape artist. Per your request, I am providing a few more of my more memorable challenges from my career to date.

I was doing an act at a new mall that was opening up in Central California. After doing my standard tricks, it was time to make my escape challenge. Two guys volunteered immediately. They were college seniors on their day off from their summer job as river rafting guides. They were extremely good looking and knew it.

One was a body builder with a killer smile, wearing a tank top and shorts that hugged his massive thighs. The other guy had more of a swimmer’s build with short dark hair and a goatee that made him look almost sinister. He was wearing a tank top, jeans and workboots.

The girls in front started hooting a bit at them, to which one of the guys shouted back, “Yo! See us after the show!”

Anyway, their challenge seemed easy enough—escape from two 25'long pieces of rope. However, it soon became apparent that they had practiced their challenge. The sinister, dark guy stood in front of me while the body builder stood behind. The body builder began by tying my hands behind my back. It was unusual in that he started in the middle of the rope, making two interlocked slip knots which he tightened after slipping a wrist through each hole, binding my wrists like handcuffs. He tied a knot and then tightly wrapped the rope around my wrists several times before cinching the tie by wrapping it between my wrists as well. He finished with a third knot. He kept good tension on the ropes through each knot.

Since he had started in the middle of the rope there were still two long ends. He passed both ends between my legs to the dark haired guy who simply spread them and passed them back to the other guy such that they went around the outside of my hips. The back guy threaded each end through the space between my forearms and yanked down on them such that they pulled tightly on the rope around my wrists pulling my hands down to and against my butt.

He then passed the ends between my legs (again) to the guy in front who pulled so hard that I almost lost my balance. The back guy pulled back on me to help his buddy keep tension on the ropes. The sinister guy simply split the ends again, wrapped them around my back and brought them back to my front where he tied a square knot right over my navel.

The tightness of the rope constricted my waist at least a couple of inches. The crowd let out a collective wince as they tightened the ropes.

With that knot as an anchor point, they started working together from the front. They each took an end and threaded it underneath an armpit, over my shoulders and crossed them at my chest. They then looped each end around an elbow and then tightly pulled the ropes back to my front where they tied another square knot right around the bottom of my sternum. This pulled my elbows apart and pressed them tightly against the back of my ribs.

My arms were immobilized. They had been very clever in their plan because, even if I could get some slack in my hands, all of the knots were on my front side and out of reach.

They were not done yet—there still was the second rope. They tied and cinched my knees together and repeated the process at my ankles. As the body builder yanked the ropes on each cinch and knot, the sinister guy helped me keep my balance by bracing himself in front with one arm around my shoulder and the other arm on my waist. I could smell his sweat and deodorant. He really looked great, especially when he would occasionally look me in the eye with a certain sneer.

My assistant then stepped in and, with the help of my challengers, they lowered me to the stage onto my stomach. They then completed a hogtie by threading the remaining rope through what little space they could create between my hands and butt and bringing it back and wrapping it around and between my ankles. After tying a knot there, they used the rest of the rope to lash the soles of my boots together as well.

The crowd had become extremely quiet by now. They could sense that my challengers had gotten a bit overzealous for a Saturday afternoon grand opening. They were right. There wasn’t a millimeter of slack anywhere. I had been beaten and knew it. I wriggled for a few minutes as I pulled mightily on my wrists, trying to slip a hand through its bindings, but they had lashed them too tightly.

This was an otherwise relatively comfortable tie. I was definitely feeling the pressure on my arms, but it wasn’t anything I couldn’t handle. I kept looking up at these incredibly good looking guys and fantasized that they were really getting into this as well—especially since they had obviously practiced this on someone before. I came in my jeans while I squirmed on my belly and then asked my assistant to announce that they had won the challenge award. With that, they let out a hoot and high-fived each other. My assistant handed them a hundred dollar bill and thanked everyone for watching. The guys ran down to the babes in the front while my assistant untied me.

Another instance occurred at a bar in a bowling alley in San Diego. It was a steady job for a change. On Wednesday, Friday and Saturday nights I challenged the patrons that I could escape from I00 ft of rope in 6 minutes or less. One Friday night, four guys stopped in to continue a bachelor party that had just broken up. They were already pretty rowdy and, by the way they were talking, real horny after whatever entertainment they had had before showing up. They really livened up the rest of the crowd as well.

They were just finishing their first beer when it was time for me to put forth my challenge. Everyone in the bar egged the rowdy guys to take me on—so they did.

They were all in pretty good shape—weekend outdoorsy types. The leader of the group seemed to be a guy named Jerry. He was around 30 and had a great, carefully groomed bushy mustache. He was wearing one of those wild western shirts, tight jeans, and fancy lizard boots. They ordered another round of beers as they headed up to the stage. Jerry made a big deal about how they were ordering one for me, but they didn’t think there would be any way for me to drink it after they got done with me.

They started by tying my hands in front. Jerry knew his knots. They then had me sit on the floor and they pulled my booted feet one at a time through the space between my wrists such that my bound wrists were on the backside of my thighs and my knees were near my chin. They then started wrapping the rope around my ankles and through the space between my wrists, such that they were all lashed together.

After tying those knots, their beers showed up. I noticed the crowd had gotten noticeably bigger. Jerry started drinking his beer and asked in a theatrical manner, “Why aren’t you drinking the one I bought for you?” The buddies all laughed and the crowd added a few taunts as well. I quipped that I’d still finish my beer first if he’d stop talking and get on with the challenge. At that, the other buddies puffed up their chests and took on the task with renewed vigor.

They rolled me back onto my back and started wrapping the rope around my knees and elbows together. They worked as a team, coiling the remaining rope and passing it back and forth as they wrapped and cinched each tum. They tied a knot after every 2-3 wraps.

During this part the guys competed to see who could pull the tightest. The rest of the crowd oohed and groaned as they succeeded in outdoing each other. Jerry got back in the act and tied the last knot at my knees. To do this he got down on his own knees and straddled my head as he worked the rope through what little space he could create. A couple of the snaps on his cowboy shirt came undone during the process, giving me a great view of his hairy pees.

They used up the rest of the rope by wrapping my thighs to my chest—making me into a type of ball. They did this by lifting up my feet and balancing me on my butt while they wrapped the rope around my back and thighs. They had difficulty keeping tension on the rope as they tied off the last knot, but good ol’ Jerry helped with a clever self-cinching tie. He made some smartass comment to the crowd about how he was already halfwaythrough his beer and his “buddy” (me) still hadn’t taken a sip! The crowd chuckled uncomfortably. I said it was time to start the 6 minute time clock.

This turned out to be a great feeling tie and the scenery provided by these horny guys had been great fun, but I knew I could get out of it. Usually, I start with some fake struggling to use up some time. My goal is to keep the drama high by pacing myself so I undo the last bit of the tie with only 5 seconds to spare. Tonight I didn’t have any time to waste.

Because they had tied my wrists to my ankles, I had something to work against as I tried to pull a wrist through the rope. The tie was plenty tight, but eventually I was able to work a wrist out. I didn’t have much mobility with that arm because its elbow was still tightly tied and wrapped to my knee. But it loosened up the other wrist and I got it free, too. I still was pretty much of a ball, however, and almost 3 minutes had elapsed. In about 5 minutes I finally got to a knot and struggled mightily to get it undone. Luckily it was the key knot since the rest of the ropes then loosened quickly, allowing me to stand up with 7 seconds to spare!

To his credit, Jerry sauntered over (with his shirt mostly undone), shook my hand and, with a grand gesture, gave me my beer. All 4 guys then gathered around me as they asked someone in the crowd to take our picture with a camera they had brought along. I remember thinking: man this is a great career!

My last recollection occurred after a show. I lived in a nearby city and had been commut ing to a three night gig at a new electronics store. My assistant, George, and I had just finished putting everything away when this tall, lanky guy comes up. He said that he was disappointed that he wasn’t selected as one of the challengers to tie me up that night. I truthfully said I hadn’t seen him volunteer and that I certainly would have picked him since he looked like someone who would have given me a good challenge.

He smiled knowingly and asked, “maybe it isn’t too late after all?” I asked what he meant. He simply showed me several coils of rope and a pair of hinged handcuffs.

He had thick, tousled dark hair and a thick black mustache that drooped around the corners of his mouth. He wore one of those oversized shirts that accentuated his broad shoulders and his narrow waist. The legs of his faded Levis stretched over the

tops of a pair of scruffy biker boots.

We talked a bit. His name was Toby, and he seemed otherwise pretty “normal.” I had a

flashback to when I got up the nerve to talk to my former partner, Dante, after one of his shows. If he had ignored me, my whole life would have been different. With that rationalization, I suggested that the three of us (including George) go back to my place and give it a try.

After a round of beers at my place, we decided to get on with the challenge. He pulled my arms behind me and clamped the hinged cuffs around my wrists. Then he used a short length of rope to tie and cinch my elbows tightly behind my back. He spied an old trunk that I occasionally use for one of my tricks. It is really sturdy and fairly large—about 4 feet long, 2 feet wide and 2 feet high—big enough for someone to easily fit inside. But rather than have me get in the box, he had me sit down on top of it, such that my legs straddled its width. My legs had to stretch quite a bit so I could sit down.

There were several metal hasps, loops and handles around the outside of the trunk through which chains, ropes and locks could be threaded for securing it. Toby made use of them as he secured my feet with rope near the bottom corners at one end of the trunk. He found two more anchor points on either side of the trunk to which he tied my knees.

Then he saw a long, well worn, black leather strap in a corner of the room. A menacing smile came over his face as he faced me and straddled the trunk with his extra long legs. He edged his way toward my face until my mouth was only a few inches from his belt buckle. He leaned over me, checked the bonds on my arms and then gently helped me lean back until I was laying on the trunk top. He took a small pillow from the couch and wedged it under my hands to keep the cuffs from pressing into my wrists too hard. Then he shuffled forward, passing his crotch right over my face, until he was past the end of the trunk. He proceeded to thread the black leather strap through the center handle on one side, over my hips (right below my now twitching balls), through the handle on the opposite side and back through its buckle. Then he grabbed the free end, put one foot on the edge of the trunk, and with both hands, cinched it until it gave no more, My cock got rock hard as I realized my confinement.

He finished up by using the rest of his rope to lash my chest to the top of the trunk. He seemed to use every hasp and loop that was available. He was very experienced at keeping the ropes tight while he tied each and every knot.

My head extended just past the end of the trunk and was bent back. Toby walked slowly around me several times, his heavy boots clunking on my wood floor. He rubbed his crotch several times and I could see the outline of his cock pushing against his tight jeans. And there I lay like a trussed up human sacrifice.

Gradually, he came right up next to me and started rubbing my crotch with one hand while he rubbed his own with the other. Next, he unzipped his pants, then he unzipped mine, and tugged a throbbing set of cock and balls out each. He began to stroke his cock and my cock at the same time. After a bit, he stretched one leg over the trunk and sat down on the end near my knees, his legs pressing in on the outsides of mine. He stared at my bound body and continued to jerk on both cocks.

Through all of this, George had been yanking his own meat and shared some lube. Eventually, we all came within a few seconds of each other in a chorus of groans. Somehow, everybody’s cum ended up on me. It was a great climax to a chance encounter.

Toby and I met a couple times after that, but we never achieved that same intensity again and we went our separate ways.