No Escape (M/F)

[Raine]

The walls of the basement were filthy, cracked tiles and peeling wallpaper smeared with stains of brown and red.

Rusted chains hung from the ceiling, some ending in wicked hooks, some in empty shackles, wrapped around a maze of broken pipes overhead. A single flickering fluorescent light illuminated the grisly scene, the pale light reflecting from the damp, dirty concrete floor around the solitary metal chair ominously bolted to the floor.

The chair to which I would soon be bound.

Iron slammed against iron as the barred cell door closed behind me. A hand on my shoulder guided me forward to the chair, across a floor so caked with grime that my stomach turned to look at it. I was glad that I was wearing shoes, but...

"I can't believe I let you talk me into this."

"What, getting cold feet?" A grin cracked Connor's handsome face as he stepped around me, navigating across the debris-covered floor towards the dirty old filing cabinet tucked into the corner of the basement prison cell. "I know it's a bit intense. What, is it too much for you?"

"It's creepy." I crossed my arms over my chest as he rummaged through the contents of the top drawer of the cabinet, my eyes flitting around the room, from the fake bloodstains coating the wall to the left between the manacles dangling from heavy bolts, to the dirty, broken mirror mounted on the rear wall, to the glass jars stacked on a wooden shelf at the right, filled with fluids dyed yellow and grey and brown to disgusting effect. "I kind of like it."

Connor threw me a curious glance. "It's supposed to gross people out."

"It does." I chewed on my lip as he returned to my side. "I'm sure it makes people want to escape. That's the point, right?"

Well... it was an escape room. An escape basement, really. They were everywhere now, places dedicated to playing out a game for their paying clients, experiences where they are made to find clues and solve mysteries within time limits to escape, all in atmospheric surroundings, from Victorian mansions to laboratories to ancient tombs. I'd even played one or two myself, but this one was different; it was a horror-themed experience, visceral and unsettling, in which the participants were supposedly kidnapped and under threat of a gruesome death if they didn't manage to find their way out of the serial killer's grisly lair.

I wasn't here to play, though. I would not be escaping. I was here as window-dressing, an actress being paid to set the scene, to make it seem more real. I'd never done this before, and it was at extremely short notice that I was asked to participate, to replace an actual professional who had fallen sick.

Good thing Connor knew a kinky friend, I suppose.

"We don't really have a lot of time until they're here." There was an apologetic note to Connor's voice as he dumped the objects he had collected onto the chair I would shortly be sitting on. "I'd really prefer to give you some time to get used to things before you dive in, but..."

"But I'll just be sitting here tied up and gagged, anyway," I finished for him with a bitter smile. "Don't worry, I'm good at that part."

Connor snorted. "Not just that. You'll have to struggle and scream, too. Remember, you're desperate to get free before the killer comes back for you. You've got to plead for help."

I nodded solemnly. That I can handle. "But they can't actually get to me, right?"

"Nope. The door'll be locked, and they won't be able tom find that particular key." Connor lifted an eyebrow. "We used to let them set the girl free if they could solve an extra puzzle, sort of an optional objective, but this makes it all flow better, if they don't have an extra tagalong. Plus, the guy clients liked to get handsy while they were untying her."

Yeah, I was sure that was true. "So they just have to leave me behind?"

"It's life or death. Time's running out." Connor shrugged. "Speaking of... sorry, but can I ask you to get undressed? We need to get you ready."

"Um. Yeah." I had been putting it off, but I'd known that this was part of the plan. They wanted me to look vulnerable and pitiful for when the customers came through and tried (and failed) to get into my cell and free me. It wasn't like most of them were going to see more than they would see of me at the beach, I reminded myself as I reached back to unzip my dress. It's just panties and a bra.

I handed my dress over to Connor - it's not like there was anywhere else I could leave it here - and stood there in my underwear, already feeling more vulnerable than I had expected to,. I'm sure the cold didn't help, but nor did the creepy atmosphere and disgusting surroundings. Even I was beginning to forget that it was all fake. I could barely imagine how the clients were going to feel when they came down here, the clock ticking on their escape attempt.

"Uh..."

Connor was averting his gaze from my body, not blushing, but clearly uncomfortable. I sighed, resting my arms at my sides, not making the slightest effort to cover myself in spite of my own discomfort. "You can look, Connor. They're all going to see me anyway."

"It's not that." He did turn back to me, but at the very least there was nothing unprofessional about the way he looked me up and down. "It's just... look, the pink is cute and all, but we need you to, uh... wear... that."

He inclined his head towards the chair, and my gaze followed his.

Oh.

There were three items on the seat beneath the flickering fluorescent tube. A bundle of leather straps. A bra. A pair of panties.

"I... I see." So I wasn't going to be allowed to keep my own underwear for the scene. I guess the cute pink bra and panties I'd chosen that morning weren't exactly appropriate for the scene. They weren't what I would have chosen if I'd known I was going to be spending an evening play-acting the captive in a filthy basement, but... my stomach turned a little at the stained, tattered underwear that had surely once been white, but looked as if it had spent a month in a sewer. I was sure it wasn't real grime and dirt, but... ew. "Do I have to?"

"You can always go naked. Give the clients a thrill." The half-grin on Connor's face suggested that he immediately regretted saying it, but I didn't bite back. "Seriously, they look gross and I'm told they feel a bit gross too, but it's just stage makeup smeared all over them. They add atmosphere."

I pursed my lips. "I take it that means you want it on my skin, too?"

"Here and there." Ever the gentleman, Connor turned his back on me, and I took the hint, hastily stripping off my underthings, never once taking my eyes off of him. If he peeked, he was going to get it.

I still hesitated before taking up the apparently filthy underwear I was expected to wear for this, but I did it, wincing at the slightly gritty feeling of the cloth against my skin as I stepped into the panties and pulled on the bra, fastening the clasp behind my back. Ugh. Inevitably, my eyes went to the one item remaining on the chair, and I picked it up as Connor took the sound of clinking buckles as a hint that I had dressed myself and turned back around to meet me. "Uh. Yeah. That's..."

I stared down at the harness muzzle in my hands, the pale leather equally as stained and filthy, or at least made to look so. "You're really going to put that on me?"

"That's... that's the plan?" Connor gave a nervous laugh. "With our other girls, we usually just tape over their mouths, or use a ball gag if they're feeling adventurous. I've been wanting to use that prop for a while, but I never dared ask our girls after the first time." His sheepish expression illustrated exactly how that had gone. I wasn't surprised. "But you're the kinky one, right?"

It sounded more plea than question. I paused, staring down at the straps and muzzle and the disturbingly phallic rubber plug on the inside, but I already knew what I was going to say.

"...All right."

I let him put it on me, although he insisted on mussing up my hair first - maybe it's strange, but that was the part that I was least happy about. He pushed the plug on the inside of the muzzle past my lips, and I tried to remain as professional as an amateur actress can as she's made to take a suggestive rubber knob into her mouth, wincing at the stark taste of it against the tongue it was pinning down as the straps were fastened in place all over my head.

I was curious enough to look at myself in the broken mirror on the wall as Connor took my underwear away, placing it in the filing cabinet with my dress for safe-keeping during the game. The muzzle covered my mouth and my cheeks and chin, but enough of my face was still showing, even recognizeable, that for the first time I began to have second thoughts about being seen tied up and muzzled in dirty underwear. What if the client group happened to include somebody I knew but wasn't aware of my 'hobbies'?

It was too late to back out now, though. Accepting my fate, I waited for Connor as he stored my clothing and returned with a small plastic tub of stage makeup and a bruish, unable to offer a retort as he told me exactly where he wanted me to dirty myself with it. The places that the audience would be most likely to look, he explained, and I glared at him as he dusted his soil-brown makeup over my forehead, my chest, my stomach, my shoulders, my thighs. by the time he was done... yeah, I looked like I'd been through a rough time.

There wasn't very long left now before the clients were due, and I didn't complain as he told me to sit down on the chair, despite the icy metal against my bare skin making me shiver.

I'd kind of figured that he would only make it look as real as he needed to, given that clients wouldn't be able to enter my dingy little cell, but Connor was the type to make sure every detail was as realistic as he could make it, and, he said as he began to tie my wrists together with dirty, rough rope behind the chair, he felt an obligation to make sure that I 'had a good time' as well, after I had given my time to help him out.

Although we clearly had very different reasons for our interest in ropes, I couldn't say that he was bad at this. He had ensured that my hands were bound fast to the back of the chair, and my ankles were next, each one bound alongside a chair leg at my ankles, wrapped tight against the metal with more coils of rope than were really necessary to confine me. I certainly wasn't going to be able to break free on my own... not that escape was on my mind at the moment.

That didn't stop him from adding more to my plight. The murky dark brown of the ropes contrasted my fair, if dirtied skin and the once-white bra as they drew tight around my chest, wrapping up my torso and my arms and pinning them against the back of the chair. I knew that it was done for the look of it without ahving to ask - not that I could have, muzzled as I was - emphasizing my breasts, adding a little sexual allure to the dark scene of the helpless girl tied to the chair in the madman's lair.

"Don't worry, we'll be watching on the hidden cameras in case there's a problem," Connor told me, and it made perfect sense, although it hadn't really occurred to me before now, I'm ashamed to say. I really should have been more careful with my own safety, but excitement got the better of me, I fear. "You just sit here and look distraught, plead for help as much as they can understand you through that thing. Remember, the killer's coming back for you, and you're desperate to get out of here."

I just nodded. It wasn't like I could do much of anything else.

"It's usually about twenty to twenty-five minutes before they get out of their starting cells and get this far into the lair." Giving me a final, measuring look, Connor stepped across the filthy floor towards the iron-barred door that we had arrived by, fiddling with the lock, and I heard it click into place. Then, he crossed back through the room, past where I sat tightly secured to the chair, approaching a section of the wall that I had assumed was just more set dressing. Instead, it proved to be a fully functional second door, which Connor opened and stepped through, peering back through at me through the maintenance hallway beyond.

"Until then, enjoy yourself, kinky girl."

The door closed, and I was alone beneath the flickering light.

Masochistically fighting the ropes. Adjusting to the humiliating presence of the muzzle.

Waiting for the games to begin.

I'll give you a show, all right.

[NotSeen]

I'm sure something like that would certainly do wonders for the 'atmosphere' of an escape room...
That was good. Thank you.

[DioA]

Ooh, the setting, the makeup, it’s so scary. And that gag is so unique. I wonder how well the guest are going to hear your pleas from under it.

[slackywacky]

Love the story, great detail, great writing. Thank you for sharing with us.
Now if I could only find that escape room...

[Mister The Edge]

Nice story. You really paint us a word picture.

[GreyLord]

Well, that beginning certainly pulled me into the story from the very beginning. I'm really looking forward to the next chapter. I'm very much wondering what was meant by "'Ill give you a show, all right."

[Boundcurious]

Thank you, I’m looking forward to the next bit!

[Tieup1]

Very well written, I could almost smell that dirty room. I do hope you will put on a show, and we get to read about it.

[Raine]

Thank you, all!

I'm not sure how I could write what would amount to just struggling in place on the chair and screaming and still make it interesting, though... watching or experiencing it is one thing, but writing it is a different matter, so it might be better to leave it to the imagination.

[Caesar73]

I love the creepy atmosphere in the dungeon and the detailed description of the bondage!

[mikayluh]

That atmosphere would be so interesting

[Mikeyropes29]

Love the setting and theme!