Kaleidoscope: No Proscenium (M/F, FFFF+/M, MM/MF, F/M. F/F, etc.)

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Caesar73
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Post by Caesar73 »

That was as hard as it was intense and dramatic. Hard Place is a vicious and brutal kind of fellow - how he treats Kylie shows that clearly. You described Kylie´s emotions so clearly, how she panics, her shock. And Darren is so courageous. Hard stuff - but excellently written.
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Post by charliesmith »

That was wonderfully written. You brought out your character’s POV to life. Such good writing and story.
Please feel free to read and comment your thoughts.
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Post by GreyLord »

As you promised, [mention]AlexUSA3[/mention], this is certainly more on the dark side. I can see that many, male as well as female, would react like Kylie in an unanticipated situation far from their normal modes of behavior and comfort zones. Darren was brave, for all it got him.
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Post by GreyLord »

[mention]Fandango[/mention], [mention]AlexUSA3[/mention], I have got to stop wrapping my tongue around my eyetooth so that I can't see what I am writing. Please excuse my confusion. Good thoughts to both of you.
ImageA List of my stories:
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Tale of an Archer Completed
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Post by Fandango »

Chapter 4 - Optical Dispersion (Kylie Cooper's POV) MM/MF [Part 2 of 2]


Kylie was focused on just trying to control her breathing. She forced her mind to flee the present horror that was her current situation. She was living a nightmare. But suddenly she felt herself pulled back into her body.

Kylie: Mmmmmmmmppppphhhhhhh!!!!!!!

She felt a firm hand make contact with her jeans clad bottom. She’d just been aggressively spanked. The sound of the slap on her butt reverberated through the lab and she was casually aware of hearing Darren let out a muffled grunt in defense of her.

Darren: Hhhmmmppphhhhh!!!! Nnnnmmmpppphh!!!!!!

Hard Place: I said down on your fucking knees!! What is the matter with you, girl?!?!

She’d not heard him say anything. She had been focused on her breathing. She looked down and saw that her upper body was already firmly taped. Tight, restricting bands of sticky tape were wound around her torso pinning her arms to her sides. They pressed into her flat stomach and wound themselves just above and below her moderately sized breasts, making them appear much more prominent than they were. She could also feel more tape crushing her arms together behind her back. When had all this happened? She thought that he had just been taping her wrists ten seconds ago. Somehow she’d lost time. Had she blacked out? As terrified as she was of the sudden time jump she hurriedly made her way to her knees as the man pressed her down towards the floor. He forced her to lie on her stomach and she could feel the tight embrace of the duct tape begin to encircle her ankles as he was pinning them together. He made short and efficient work of her legs. Ankles, calves, shins, lower thighs, and upper thighs. Five different distinct bands of tight, controlling, restricting, hampering duct tape pinned her legs together. Finally she felt him tear the tape off for what she hoped was the last time. He reached up and set it on the counter, which was hopefully a good sign. She then felt him maliciously grope her buttocks as she squealed inconsolably into her gag.

Kylie: Mmmmmmppppphhhhhhh!!!!!!

Hard Place: It’s a damn fucking shame that I don’t have more time to play around with you. But I’m here on business, not pleasure. Lucky you. Or maybe unlucky you. A girl like you might be enjoying this sort of thing.

Kylie didn’t respond. She just whimpered and continued to sob. The only substantial response that she did give was the redness that she could feel rushing to her face as utter humiliation and despondency overtook her. She heard Darren respond for her.

Darren: Nnnnmmmpppphhhh!!!!!! Mmmmmpppphhhhh!!!!!!!

The man grabbed her by her shoulders and twisted her into a sitting position. He then leaned her back against some cabinets as he stood up and grabbed the tape back off the counter. He addressed his silent partner menacingly.

Hard Place: Alright. Let’s get this safe cracked. Let’s go. As for you two, don’t move a fucking muscle. I want to see you right where I left you when I get back.

The two men exited through a door that led to Kylie’s professor's research station. She wasn’t even considering moving. These guys were ruthless and she fully knew that they meant business. She just prayed that they’d get whatever it was they wanted and not eliminate any loose ends through violent means on their way out. She felt her whole body shaking and trembling as she waited. She didn’t know how long she waited. It felt like it was could have been hours. She’d later find out that it was less than five minutes. The men came bursting back through the door.

Hard Place: Alright. We’re good. Get back to the fucking car. Hustle!!

She registered them as they ran past her and exited the lab. She could hear their footsteps banging loudly on the tile of the hallway as the weighted door slowly pulled itself shut behind them. She heard it click closed and a whole now horror swept over her. Without being released she had no clue if she’d be able to get free. Today was Friday. The lab wouldn’t be in use again until Monday. She sometimes came in on the weekends though and knew that the whole building did get a cleaning on Sunday morning. That was about forty hours away. She was stuck. She was helpless. And she honestly didn’t think that she’d last forty hours in this position. She was still going to die. Some janitor was going to find her on Sunday morning having asphyxiated on her own shirt sleeve. She’d probably have wet herself by then…if she hadn’t already. She honestly couldn’t tell. She had almost no bodily control at this point. Again she felt as though she was having an out of body experience. She felt as though she was floating over the scene and was watching from the ceiling. She could hear Darren thrashing around and grunting for all that he was worth. His grunts and garbled groans forming the a haunting soundtrack to what she was sure would be her final hours. This was an ignominious end to her life. She’d had grand dreams of what her life could be. But now here she was, bound and gagged on the floor of a lab. With an injured co-worker who was probably bleeding out.

Her body again became racked with sobs and a dizzying spell overtook her. She felt more tears streaming down her face as she prematurely mourned the life that she’d never gotten to live. She thought she could feel the cloth in her mouth swelling as she choked back sobs. The dizziness and nausea that was engulfing her. She could feel the tape’s tight embrace over her whole body constricting her like a python. She feared that she was going to faint at any second. And she feared that if she in fact lost consciousness…she would never regain it. She simply focused on breathing. In through her nose. And back out through her nose. She took deep, greedy breaths and then exhaled them slowly. This still didn’t stop her body from shaking violently with fear. She just closed her eyes and tried to escape the current horror. Into her mind. Was there a chance that they might be rescued before it was too late? She felt like a janitor arriving in over a day and a half was surely going to be too late for them. Then she heard something. It was a loud crash. It came from the other end of the lab. She opened her eyes. Darren was gone. He’d been right in front of her. Where could he have gone? Had he managed to squirm his way out of her field of vision? Had somebody taken him while her eyes had been closed? No. Wait. She could still hear him. She heard thumping and grunts coming from the other side of a large workspace. They surely belonged to Darren.

Darren: Mmmmpppphhhhh!!!! Mmmmmppppphhhh!!!!!! Mmmmpppphhhhhh!!!!!!

The symphony of his struggles and rantings continued. She craned herself to look at the clock. It was almost 8:00. Then men had been gone for over an hour and a half. It had felt like six hours. Or more. Could it really only have been an hour and a half? If that space of time was only an hour and change then she was NEVER going to make it to 10:30am on Sunday morning. She couldn’t take it anymore. What had the crash been? Had Darren hurt himself? She could see a thin trail of blood leading around the corner of one of the workspaces. That was his blood. He was already injured. They were doomed. She felt herself starting to hyperventilate. She’d stopped focusing on her breathing. Her inhalations were coming too rapidly. She tried to regulate it, but it was all just too much. Her eyes were wet and her vision was blurry. The room was starting to spin again. She was panicking. Oh God. She couldn’t take this. She couldn’t take 40 hours of THIS. She began to sob uncontrollably. Her nose began to run. She knew this was dangerous. She was desperately dependent on her nose for breathing. She couldn’t afford for it to get stopped up. She heard herself mewling into the gag. It sounded desperate and pathetic. What would become of her parents when she was gone? How would they cope? What of her younger sister? How would her death effect Beth? It would surely be difficult living in the wake of a sibling who died before her time. The thought that the tragedy that was befalling her was going to have a cascading effect over other people only brought the tears to her eyes harder. She was surprised that she still had fluid to cry. There was none left in her mouth. The piece of shirt that had been jammed in had sopped up every milliliter of saliva in her mouth. She could feel it. Her tongue was bone dry. She ached. She could feel herself trembling uncontrollably. Then she heard it. A voice.

Darren: Yes…Hello… Yes ma’am… I’m a student there. I’m a junior undergraduate researcher…Yes. Please hurry… I need two ambulances and a police presence to come to the Chemistry Laboratories next to the VizCenter. We’ll be in Lab 121A….

She saw Darren running around the work station towards her. He had a shard of glass in his hand that appeared to be from a broken beaker or flask. There was another trickle of blood running down his hand. Clearly he had cut himself on broken glass during some sort of escape attempt. His other hand was holding a cell phone to his ear.

Darren: I’m not sure….Myself and one other victim…I think so…No….Yes…Two armed men…They left a little over two hours ago...I’ll be fine but I definitely need medical attention…I’m worried about my friend…I think she’s in shock….Let me put you on speaker…I’m ungagging her now.

Darren set the phone down and began searching Kylie’s face for the end of the tape that was pressing sadistically tightly into her cheek. He found it and began to peel it off. Kylie could faintly hear the operator’s voice now coming through the cell phone.

Voice on Phone: Units are en route.

Darren: Thank you. Please tell them we believe that there is no threat. Myself and the other victim will be in Lab 121A. They’ll see us on the floor as soon as they enter. It probably will look a lot worse than it is. I’ve got a head wound and those bleed a good deal, but I don’t think there’s any internal bleeding.

Voice on Phone: Could there potentially be other additional victims?

Darren: Sure….I have no clue what the gunmen did before they entered the lab. Or after they left. They said something about a safe. My advising professor has the combination. I’m worried that he might be in trouble. There could be any number of victims. I only know of two though. Additional response would probably be a good idea.

Darren continued to unwind the tape from Kylie’s head as she stared up at him through glazed over, bloodshot eyes. The side of his head was now caked with dried blood. When he talked she could also see blood stains on some of his teeth. His thick black hair was matted to his forehead and bruising was already set in around his eye socket. He looked terrible. But somehow he’d managed to have the wherewithal to free himself and get help. He’d stayed focused. He’d persevered. He’d acted practically and decisively. And she’d struggled to not pass out and collapse the whole time. She felt another wave of shame flowing over her. This one came from an entirely different place than when the armed assailant had groped her ass. This one came not from what had been inflicted upon her, but from how she’d responded to it. She felt her entire paradigm shifting without a clutch. She wasn’t the person that she thought she was. She wasn’t the person that she wanted to be. She had always thought that she was tough. That she was brave. That she was fearless and unstoppable. She’d dreamed of sky diving and swimming with sharks. She was planning on hiking the Pacific Coast Trail. She had thought that she was unbreakable. That she was indomitable. But all it had taken was one cruel man with a gun to make that idea seem ludicrous. She had shattered.

She had wanted to be tough, like a diamond. But the pressure of today’s events had not forged greatness and resilience within her. She had collapsed under the weight of today’s events. She was not tough like a diamond. She was as soft as talc. She was as far to the other end of the Mohs scale as she could imagine. And this broke her inside. A part of her identity had been torched right in front of her and she didn’t see how she’d be able to look at herself in the mirror the same way again. She missed whatever the last instructions had been that the 9-1-1 operator had given to Darren. But she felt the sticky tape make it’s final rotation around her head and then gasped and sputtered as Darren plucked the sopping, salty sleeve of T-Shirt from her mouth. She breathed in greedily through her mouth and started to sob and sniffle uncontrollably. Darren took her head and gently rested it on his shoulder. He reclined them back into the cabinets and she felt herself sobbing and sputtering into the breast of his blood-smeared T-Shirt. She felt his hand gently stroking her head and heard his empty reassurances.

Darren: It’s going to be alright, Kylie. Help is on their way. Everything is going to be alright.

In a way, he was right. She now was convinced that she WASN'T going to die. Today. Here in this lab. But she was not going to be alright. His gentle soothing only helped to accentuate her own weakness and disgust with herself. And her sense of safety was going to take a hit that she wasn’t sure she’d ever heal from. She’d survived these gunmen. She’d survived TODAY. But what about the next batch of lunatics that burst in on her. The world was a terrible, cruel, and unsafe place. And she didn’t know if she was equipped to handle it. She appreciated Darren. He’d saved their lives. She knew that he cared deeply about her and wanted what was best for her. But her mind couldn’t fathom the dichotomy of their differences. She liked Darren but she’d never envied him. She thought that she was the better student and the more socially competent human. She envied him immensely now and that made her feel sick and ungrateful inside. She owed him everything. But she still envied him. She envied his heroism. She envied his level-headedness. She envied his practicality. The fact that she had wilted so thoroughly when matters had turned to life and death made a pit form in her stomach. And she honestly feared that she’d never get rid of that pit.
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Post by charliesmith »

Very curious to see how all the story lines would tie in together!
Please feel free to read and comment your thoughts.
My ongoing stories:

Roadtrip of Dreams (M/F) Chapter 14 Added.
GreyLord
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Post by GreyLord »

Perhaps Kylie isn't as different from most of us as a lot of fiction would portray. I once had a conversation with a US Medal of Honor winner on the subject of bravery. He readily admitted that he was terrified when he took the action that won him the medal. He called it controlled hysteria. I, at least, will not be too hard on Kylie.

Excellent writing.
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Fandango
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Post by Fandango »

Thanks for the comments.
Caesar73 wrote: 1 year ago That was as hard as it was intense and dramatic. Hard Place is a vicious and brutal kind of fellow - how he treats Kylie shows that clearly. You described Kylie´s emotions so clearly, how she panics, her shock. And Darren is so courageous. Hard stuff - but excellently written.
Thank you very much. I considered perhaps using a different POV for this chapter because it didn't feel fun writing panicked, fearful, desperation. But as I considered this event's impact on the story...I think this chapter always had to be from Kylie's POV. This is the darkest chapter. Chapter 5 will be a return to a fluffier, lighter story.
GreyLord wrote: 1 year ago [mention]Fandango[/mention], [mention]AlexUSA3[/mention], I have got to stop wrapping my tongue around my eyetooth so that I can't see what I am writing. Please excuse my confusion. Good thoughts to both of you.
No worries. Confusion entirely excused. You read a lot of stories. The comments are always appreciated. And I think that AlexUSA3 also promised a darker and tense chapter in one of (his?) recent stories.
charliesmith wrote: 11 months ago Very curious to see how all the story lines would tie in together!
That should become apparent soon. This is where the story starts to fold back on itself. Chapter 5 will prominently feature a character that we're already familiar with and Chapter 6 should really start connecting some dots.
GreyLord wrote: 11 months ago Perhaps Kylie isn't as different from most of us as a lot of fiction would portray. I once had a conversation with a US Medal of Honor winner on the subject of bravery. He readily admitted that he was terrified when he took the action that won him the medal. He called it controlled hysteria. I, at least, will not be too hard on Kylie.

Excellent writing.
Certainly. I don't think that Kylie's reaction was outside the boundaries of how a lot of people would react. A panic attack seems reasonable in the face of death. I think she'd have easily settled for "controlled hysteria" though. She saw how Darren reacted and wished that she could have responded in such a way. This event will naturally effect her sense of safety. But it also effects the way that she feels about herself. Her sense of self worth has shifted. I hope no reader would be too hard on Kylie. I also hope that she won't be too hard on herself.


Thank you for all the interaction. Chapter 5 will start tomorrow evening. It's a very different chapter from the one that you just read and shifts the story in a different direction.
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Post by Fandango »

[AUTHOR'S NOTE / WARNING: I wanted to open with another note. I warned last chapter that things were going to take a less friendly spin. Now I'd like to issue a completely different warning. A friendlier one. I just wanted to warn people that there might not be as much bondage in this chapter as they're accustomed to. This is a tie-up board and every chapter I write for this story will have bondage. But this is a lengthy chapter and nobody is going to get tied up until Part 3. There will be conversations about bondage before then. But there will also be talk about classic cars, immersive theater, and family dynamics. A lot of this story is about exploring relationships and this chapter is about the social anxiety of trying to form new relationships in adulthood and having a character who has always looked down on bondage realize that maybe it's not exactly what he thought it was. Please also note that this story takes place inside a Murder Mystery Dinner Party. There will be confusing subplots that you don't really need to follow. I just have them there for continuity. There will also be characters that have two names: a real name and a character name. I will refer to them in my formatting by whichever name I introduce them as (e.g. Jim is also Monty, Lexi is also Lillian, etc.)]


Chapter 5 - No Proscenium (Greg Huff's POV) F/M, M/F [Part 1 of 7]


October 28, 2022

Greg Huff looked over the waiver he was being asked to sign. He read it carefully. It wasn’t that he was considering not signing it. He’d paid $300 plus tax for him and his daughter to attend this event. He was going to sign the waiver. It was just that as a fellow business owner who required guests to sign waivers promising that they’d behave according to pre-agreed standards and release him from liability under certain circumstances, he wanted to see how this company handled things. The contract was good. It was airtight. Legal minutia wasn’t a major interest of his. But he was a business man and it was always a good idea to see what successful enterprises in his field were doing. This contract was pretty good. He thought it was exceptional actually. Especially given the potentially hazardous nature of No Proscenium’s business model.

Greg: This is ridiculous, Daughter.

He looked up at his eldest daughter, Lexi. She was dressed in a fancy bright blue cocktail dress. Greg himself was in a suit and tie. He thought that appropriate attire for the alleged event might have been a tuxedo. But he didn’t own a tuxedo. He didn’t feel like renting a tuxedo. And he was a paying customer…he’d wear whatever the hell he wanted. As he looked around at the other men it appeared as though suits were the order of the day. He saw only one or two tuxedos. Though he did see some very eager young customers that appeared to be friends who looked to be entirely period appropriate. Lexi rolled her eyes at him and gave him her sassiest look.

Lexi: What’s ridiculous, Father?

Greg: Daughter, these hucksters are conning you into working for them for free. Not even free. You’re paying them to act in their performance.

She gave him an exasperated sigh. She knew that he was just goading her. And he knew that she knew. But she was super excited about this evening and felt the need to defend it.

Lexi: How is this any different than our escape room business, Father? We’re paying money to solve a puzzle and immerse ourselves in a fictional narrative.

Out of the corner of his eye Greg could see the couple sitting next to them looking at them and smirking. No doubt they were wondering why he and Lexi were referring to each other in such a formal manner. That’s what they called each other. He was “Father”. She was “Daughter”. These had been their cutesy little nicknames for over 20 years now. Lexi was his first born. And he was soooo excited for the day when his baby girl might first say the words “Dada” or “Dad” or “Daddy”. He’d settle for any of them. But it never came. “Mama” came quickly. By the time she was two she said it regularly. For a couple months in her cognitive process she appeared to think that “Mama” might actually be a blanket term for “parent” and referred to both of them as “Mama”. But she just never said “Dada” or “Daddy”. By the time she turned three he was more than a little devastated.

Eventually his wife, Sally, got her to call him “Daddy”. But he could see the way that the word rankled his daughter. She didn’t like it. It felt wrong to her. So Lexi had used the term very sparingly as a child. Then, one day, as a very young girl she had wanted his attention while he was sitting on the couch watching college basketball. As he recalls it the exact reason had been that she had found a Capri Sun and needed his assistance to properly poke the straw into the hole so that she could drink it. She came up to him and very formally inquired: “Father?” He had turned to see his adorable, precocious little girl staring at him and holding out a Capri Sun. He had looked at her and just responded, “Yes, daughter?” She had giggled uncontrollably at the simple returned greeting. He had laughed at her earnest uncontrollable fit of giggles. His wife had also started laughing uproariously. He didn’t know why they found it so funny. But there was just something about a four year old girl and her father referring to each other in such a formal manner that was absurd. But the nicknames had stuck. He was “Father”. She was “Daughter”. And they’d always greet each other as such.

His younger daughter had a more conventional nickname. The family called her “Bug”. It was a shortened nickname from “Ladybug” which she’d gotten because of a childhood fascination with the insect and the cute way that an early childhood speech impediment had made her pronounce it. She’d get super excited whenever she saw a “Widdle Wadybug!!”. She no longer had any semblance of a speech impediment. But that nickname had stuck also. He loved both his girls. They were so, so very different. But they were both wonderful, compassionate, intelligent, competent young women.

Greg: I don’t force my escape room players to play a character. They get to be themselves. If they don’t want to lean into the story, they don’t have to.

Lexi: Ugh. But all the best ones do. The people who enjoy your escape room on the most visceral level are the ones that escape INTO the story. That’s what we’re here to do. Escape into a story. I know that you LOVE puzzles. But the role playing and fantasy is just as big of a draw for people as the mental stimulation.

Greg already knew that this was true. He knew that his business was a marriage of competitive challenge and fantastical escape from reality.

Greg: I’m just teasing you, Daughter. I’m sure it will be great. I’m excited to solve the mystery. But I don’t know about this whole “capture and restrain” angle. I don’t feel like checking this box.

Lexi looked at him incredulously. Almost pleadingly. He knew that it was important to her that he check the box. There was something that she wanted him to understand that he just didn’t. And she thought that this would be the best way to learn.

Lexi: Father, please. This is the whole reason that we’re here.

Greg: No. We’re here because you are obsessed with this sort of thing and want to enjoy a nice murder mystery dinner party.

Lexi: Well…it’s the reason that YOU’RE here, then.

Greg: I’m here because I’m paying for us to attend this extravagant little shindig and I want to have a nice night with my daughter.

Lexi blushed.

Lexi: That’s not what I mean. I…I mean…you know. Of course we’re going to have a fun time. But I also want you to learn why I did what I did. I know that you were upset about me augmenting the escape room, but it’s really working. And I thought that coming here would provide some insight since this is another business that has stumbled upon the same breakthrough that we have.

Greg: You say “breakthrough”. I’m more inclined to call it an exploitation of perversion.

Lexi: Father, that hurts. That is a very closed-minded way of thinking about things.

Greg stared at his daughter. He had meant that he thought that her adding a bondage element to his escape room brought in a more perverted collection of clientele. But he saw now that he had possibly offended her because maybe SHE enjoyed it. That was not his intention. He certainly hoped his daughter was NOT into bondage. The mere thought made his skin crawl. He didn’t understand it. He felt that it degraded her. But she was an adult. And if that’s something that she was into, he never wanted to make her feel judged or marginalized. He absolutely accepted her for the amazing young woman that she was. If she enjoyed her forays into captivity on another level, he didn’t want to know about it. But he’d absolutely accept it. He wanted both of his daughters to feel confident and comfortable being who they were. His younger daughter had opened up to his wife and him that she was bisexual in high school. They had made every effort to support her and show her that that changed nothing about their relationship. And having an interest in bondage wasn’t going to change anything about his relationship with Lexi. He hoped she’d be careful and respect herself. But if he’d offended her, he was truly sorry. It was time to right that wrong.

Greg: I’m sorry, daughter. You’re absolutely right. That is closed-minded. What is it they say: “Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it.”?

He then emphatically checked the “Capture and Restraint” waiver on the form. The actors in the room would be allowed to tie him up now. This is what she wanted him to have the chance to experience. And he was going to take the plunge. He saw her wounded gaze immediately turn to a bright smile.

Greg knew that Lexi wanted to show him that the immersive flourish that she had added to his escape room, without his permission, was a good thing. That it made business sense. That it was something that was the future. He remained unconvinced. He’d been horrified when he found out several weeks ago that his employees had augmented the game so that they were getting tied up. They’d been doing it for months. He absolutely pitched a fit. He supposed it was his own fault for not being more involved in the on site aspect of his business. But he still had his job as a programmer. And he trusted Lexi to run the room. And she had been deliberately deceitful with him. That hurt. But there is no way that he would have permitted her to do what she was doing. He’d been livid when he found out. He had five employees who operated the room. Lexi, her childhood friend Drew, Hannah, Luke, and Kristin. And they’d all been in on it. He’d probably gotten TOO bent out of shape when he first found out. He’d been furious with Lexi and told her that he was firing the other four employees. Drew, Hannah, Luke, and Kristin were all going to be terminated. He knew this was overkill. She was clearly their ring leader. It had clearly been her idea. But he wanted her to know that her actions had consequences. And when those consequences hurt other people…that was when they would sting Lexi the most. She was so empathetic to others. And she’d obviously put her foot down on this matter. She’d told him in no uncertain terms that if he fired a single one of her co-workers that she was going to walk herself. He was being obstinate and vindictive and that he knew it. He did know it. Nobody got fired. But he’d had a sit down meeting with all five of his employees.

The change to the game was a legal nightmare. It opened up the potential for lawsuits if anything happened to any of them. But they’d all stood behind Lexi. They all stated that they didn’t feel marginalized or taken advantage of by the change. Lexi had simply introduced the concept and not pressured them to take part. They’d all played the role of Parker willingly, switching off between shifts. They showed Greg analytics. The reviews and ratings for the escape room had skyrocketed since last March when they had first introduced the change. Just about every slot for the room was booked. The room was ostensibly booked out for the next two months. Sometimes people wanting to throw a special birthday party or bachelorette would call Lexi and ask if there was any way that they could get a slot. She’d been scheduling off hour sessions before 9:00am or after midnight to accommodate these. And the people requesting them were paying exorbitant prices. Escape rooms were not supposed to be that profitable. He had always planned to operate his at a loss. He paid his workers $31/hour. That was well over the industry standard. He should be losing money on his little passion project like he’d planned all along. And yet the room was exceedingly profitable. He had to admit that change enhanced things. They showed him the voting for the TERPECA rankings. This was a site that ranked all of the top escape rooms in the world. The final rankings wouldn’t be out until December but the results were staggering. It used a complex algorithm based on the individual rankings of power users who registered to judge and had done over 100 rooms. You normally needed to have about 15 top ten votes to rank in the top 50 in the world. Lunatic’s Lair had had three such votes in 2021. That was pretty good. Lunatic’s Lair already had 32 this year. That put it second among rooms in the United States behind only Cutthroat Cavern in Baton Rouge. If he could move ahead of rooms like Man from Beyond in Houston, Mogollon Monster in Phoenix, and Edison Escape Room in San Francisco…that would be epic.

So he’d agreed to allow the restraining of the Parker character to continue. But he’d implemented some rules. The first thing he’d done was that he’d obviously had to rework his liability waivers. And then he laid down the law with his employees. Being bound as Parker was ENTIRELY at will. No new hires would be permitted to play Parker for their first two months with the company. And Parker would only be bound if the actor or actress felt like it in that particular session. Repeat bookers would be flagged and their previous game would be reviewed to determine if maybe they should be given an unbound Parker or a male version of Parker. He understood that for some people this was a sexual thing. He had to accept that but his company was NOT going to lean into that. He also let them know that there would be consequences for any future lies and deceit. He and Dean were their bosses. They were not allowed to put him in a compromising position like this again. They’d agreed. He liked all of his employees. But it did rub him the wrong way that Lexi was getting bound and gagged by her friend Drew. He had obviously been initially concerned that Drew had coerced Lexi into such a notion. But she’d assured him that it was the other way around. Greg knew what boys were like. He’d been one. And he was sure that Drew must have gotten some sick fascination out of tying his daughter up. But he knew that he believed Lexi when she said that it was her idea. Drew was far too timid and too much of a pushover to have talked Lexi into anything that his daughter didn’t absolutely want to do. And now he had to concede that it was probably his own daughter who ENJOYED the whole thing. He’d been tempted to try and schedule his daughter with Hannah and Kristin more because that seemed less sordid. Even though he knew that that wasn’t necessarily the case. Given that his other daughter had dated women. But he was pretty sure that Lexi was fully heterosexual and he’d feel it less licentious if he scheduled her apart from Drew. But his employees really made their own schedules. And Lexi liked working with Drew. She liked Hannah and Lucas and Kristin a lot also. But 80% of her shifts were with her old childhood friend. He’d deal with it.

But getting him to come around to her way of thinking was why Lexi had suggested this fascinating father-daughter outing. When he’d first researched immersive experiences where patrons were restrained, he had of course come across McKamey Manor. It had been a local San Diego haunted house attraction. He’d heard of it. It sounded sadistic and insane. Paying guests were bound, beaten, and tormented for hours. There were videos online. Some people loved it. But it seemed horrific to him. The attraction had moved from San Diego to Tennessee and he was glad for it. It sounded absolutely horrific. Customers could be drugged, waterboarded, and have their teeth extracted...or so Wikipedia told him. People had gone to the hospital with extensive injuries. He couldn’t figure out how it worked out legally. But somehow it had an extensive waiting list. Lexi assured him that tonight was absolutely nothing like that. Tonight was going to be gentle and fun and adventurous. It was simply immersive theater with a twist.

No Proscenium was a murder mystery show where the customers were guests, and therefore suspects, at a party where they had to solve a crime. Each show took place at a private party of 60 guests. Forty eight of those guests were paying customers who were visiting No Proscenium for an immersive experience. Twelve of those guests were paid actors performing a role. Ideally, people wouldn’t entirely know who was who…though there were certainly some tells. However, a practiced, enthusiastic customer should be able to convince others that he or she was an actor. Everybody was playing a character. When Greg had signed up, he had been assigned a character. He was a wealthy widower whose wife had recently passed and had business with some of the seedier connections at this party. Lexi also had a character. She was playing a young woman named Lillian Fuller. But that’s all she would tell him. Certain details of characters were meant to be a secret. It forced you to mingle with the other guests and investigate during the party.

The company charged $150 per head. And they ran two shows per night. One started at 5:00 and wrapped up just before 9:00. They then did a quick turn around for a show that started at 9:15 and wrapped up at around 1:00am. Lexi and Greg were attending the earlier show. The two shows had entirely different storylines, so that customers could do them separately and get two different mysteries. Lexi had done the later show with Drew and had been utterly enthralled with it. Though she said that she hadn’t even come close to solving the murder. But she had thought that it was a good learning experience and that she’d do better at this one. The earlier show was not a true murder mystery. The early crowd didn’t get a mysterious, macabre murder. Rather it was a robbery that they needed to solve. And you couldn’t just solve WHO had committed the robbery. That could be solved by simply guessing. You had to solve the mystery in three parts. You had to solve WHO committed the robbery. HOW they committed the robbery. And WHY they committed the robbery. You needed means and motive also. Greg thought that they had their work cut out for them. But he was excited and so was Lexi. It was fun to see his daughter so jittery with nerves and energy.

After they turned their waivers and forms into a responsible looking woman with a name tag that said “Claudia”, they waited for the doors to open to the main ball room. Guests were apparently staged in five different groups of ten before entering. They’d all enter at the same time, but they didn’t want everybody to see each other at once. Every group also had an average of two paid actors among the guests. That way it wouldn’t be an immediate giveaway that all of the people that shared the waiting room with you were other paying customers. Claudia had an earpiece and a little microphone clipped to her face and she appeared to be doing some last checks with people. The show would start any minute now.

Lexi: OK. Remember, Father. We’re going to split up. We’ll cover more ground that way and get more clues that way. We’ll meet up every once in a while to exchange intel. You have to give up your secret information on your character sheet if asked but you don’t need to just go blabbing it to anybody. Play the game. Keep it close, but you’re required to give it up if confronted or questioned about it. If somebody wants to have a private meeting with you in a secret location…they might be taking you away to capture you. Let it happen. You’ll get tied up or restrained. But you get all the best clues that way. That’s part of the game. Not every guest here consented to it. We’re getting an advantage by being more adventurous. We’re going to win this thing. I can feel it.

Greg: Aren’t you going to tell me to have fun, Daughter?

Lexi chuckled.

Lexi: Of course. This is fun. Have fun. Have all the fun. But I know you. You’re a puzzle man. You’re competitive. I get that from you. We’re absolutely here to have fun. But we’re here to win. The win rate is like 7%. I want to be ELITE. I want it so bad I can taste it.

Now Greg chuckled. He was competitive. And it was great seeing Lexi get that Eye of the Tiger in her. 7% was a ludicrous win rate. This was apparently going to be very challenging. Lunatic’s Lair had a 22% escape rate and people complained that it was too hard. This game was over three times harder. But I guess that when you offer a lucrative prize, you want to make sure that people don’t win every show. Claudia whispered something into her microphone and then opened the doors. Greg and Lexi walked with eight other people from their waiting room into a grand ball room. There was a bar. There was a dance floor for mingling. There were tables. There were staircases. There were hallways that led to other parts of the compound. The game was afoot. He could see other guests entering through other doors.

Lexi: Alright. Good luck, Father. Try to mingle and get as much information as possible. I’ll check again in about an hour.

Greg: Sure thing. Good luck, Daughter.

He gave an unconvincing nod of assurance to Lexi, but he wasn’t even sure that she saw it. She was already making a beeline for a group of guests. He was on his own. And his social anxiety was already starting to flare up.
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Post by charliesmith »

This is a wonderful setup for chapter 5. Looking forward to see how Lexi and her father would be playing the game.
Please feel free to read and comment your thoughts.
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Roadtrip of Dreams (M/F) Chapter 14 Added.
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Post by GreyLord »

I would like to assure you, [mention]Fandango[/mention], that you do not need to apologize for not having a tug in every chapter. Stories sometimes need background and context. Your splendid story stands for itself and our desire for your next chapters is unabated, tug or not. Please continue as you see fit.
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Post by Fandango »

Chapter 5 - No Proscenium (Greg Huff's POV) F/M, M/F [Part 2 of 7]


Greg knew that the entire purpose of this event, this charade, was to provide an atmosphere where social interaction was easy and care free. Everybody had been given a character with a story to tell. Topics of conversation were not something that people needed to reach for. People were also incentivized to WANT to talk to you. You could have a vital key to the puzzle that they needed. But Greg wasn’t sure that it was working for him. He still had a decent amount of social anxiety as he looked around the room. The crowd was fairly young. Most of them were probably in their late 20s or early 30s. The people his age appeared to be mostly husband and wife pairings who were clinging to their partners. He could just go up to a group of chatting people and join in on a conversation. But the thought of that made him cringe a little bit. Even despite the format this all didn’t seem natural. He was at a party with 60 strangers and the only person he knew was flitting around the room trying to solve a mystery. And he’d promised her that he’d split off to help them cover more ground.

His first couple of interactions did not go well. He tried to talk to a couple that looked about his age. They were by the bar and seemed deeply unhappy to be there. The event had just started and they seemed like they were already drunk. He couldn’t tell if they were just acting or if they were miserable people. They gave him some information about Senator Fox and some guy named Colin Woods but they just sort of flung the information at him while mainlining gin and tonics. They seemed entirely disinterested in anything that he had to say. His social anxiety was swelling. Maybe he needed some liquid courage. He tried to approach the bar. There was a man in front of him in line. And as he waited he felt a soft hand press into his hip and another one come down on his shoulder. Then he heard a seductive voice whisper in his ear that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand at attention.

Delilah: Why hello there, handsome.

Greg spun around. He was staring into the eyes of a shorter girl who had to be about Lexi’s age. She was wearing a black cocktail dress and her hands were adorned with silk gloves. She was a cute looking brunette who probably had on a little too much eye shadow. But it appeared as though she was playing some sort of feisty, sexy femme fatale part and she certainly looked the part. But he was a happily married man. He had little interest in indulging any romance angle with this woman. Her confidence said that she was a paid actress, but he didn’t want to rule out that she could have just been a horny customer who was into role playing. He wanted to play this carefully.

Greg: I’m sorry. I don’t believe we’ve met.

Delilah: I’m sorry. Where are my manners? My name is Miss Delilah Forsythe.

Greg: Pleased to meet you, Miss Forsythe. I’m Mr. Carruth.

Delilah: Oh, I know who you are, darling. Betty Dumont speaks ever so highly of you.

Greg had never met Betty Dumont. But he knew some information about her from his character sheet. They were acquainted. Which could be awkward because he didn’t know what she looked like. Had Delilah talked to her already and been sent here to get information from him?

Delilah: I’m very sorry to hear about the passing of your wife, Mr. Carruth. Tragic really.

OK. She already knew about his character’s dead wife. This girl was taking in information quickly. He knew almost nothing and they were less than ten minutes into the game. Clearly some players were more efficient than others.

Greg: Thank you very much, Miss Forsythe. It certainly has been difficult since her passing.

Delilah returned her hand to his hip and began to seductively stroke his tie with her other hand. It was making him quite uncomfortable.

Delilah: Please let me know if there’s anything I can do to help. I know how losing a wife and mother can devastate a family. My mother died in child birth with me.

This was a fucking weird thing to tell somebody while you were running your hand along the side of their ribs. What was this girl’s deal? She almost couldn’t be a paid actress. This was way too forward. Was this a horny guest?

Greg: I’m sorry, Ms. Forsythe. That sounds awful. I hope you and your father got along fine.

Delilah: Please. Call me Delilah. Ms. Forsythe was my mother. And a lot of good the name did HER.

Gallows humor. Yikes.

Delilah: I’m afraid I never knew my father. I’ve been an orphan since birth.

Greg: That sounds terrible.

Now at least Greg had an idea of what she was doing. His character was exceptionally wealthy. This down on her luck girl was probably just flirting with him for money. Maybe if he leaned into that he could get her to stop.

Greg: You’ve clearly had a difficult life, Delilah. Are you in need of any assistance?

Delilah smiled brightly at him. Her hungry eyes stared deep into his as she looked up at him longingly and only increased the path that her hands were traversing. He felt one of her hands make it’s way around his back and start to run her fingers along his spine. He was fidgeting now. This girl was young enough to be his daughter. Literally. She probably was Lexi’s age. And she had her hands all over him, a married man.

Delilah: That’s very kind of you, Mr. Carruth. I am looking for funding for my concert tour. I’m having trouble getting it off the ground.

Greg: Concert tour? What kind of concert?

Delilah: Why…I’m a pianist, of course. I’ve always been told that I’m very good with my fingers.

She brushed her fingers down his spine flirtatiously while the other hand worked it’s way up his ribs. That was it. Too far. He was stopping this. He grabbed her arms. Not aggressively. But firmly. And removed them from his person.

Greg: I’m sorry, Miss Forsythe. But I’m a married man.

She smiled at him menacingly. She almost seemed like she felt bad about what she was about to say. Like it was a step too far. But he’d walked into it.

Delilah: You mean…you WERE a married man. It must be lonely without your wife and I just thought that we could help each other out.

Shit. He’d forgotten that he was a character. Lexi's mother, Jessica, wasn’t his wife. The deceased Mrs. Carruth was his FORMER wife.

Greg: Yes. Of course. I WAS married. But it hasn’t been that long. I’m still in mourning. And I have NO interest in moving on this quickly.

In actuality it had been five years since Mrs. Carruth had passed. But it didn’t say in his bio sheet how well his character had moved on. For tonight’s purposes of getting this gold digging harlot’s fingers off of him…he was still inconsolable.

Delilah: I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t mean to offend you. You just looked like a generous man who could help me. I’ve managed to get as far as I have through the generosity of others. My piano lessons were all paid for through private donations. But I don’t want people to think that I’m unwilling to work to get what I want…if you know what I mean. I’m very willing to put in the work.

She winked at him. She nodded down towards his groin. If she was concerned that she wasn’t being obvious enough…she was. He knew what she meant. He wasn’t interested.

Greg: I’m sorry, ma’am. I have to go. It was nice meeting you.

She gave a sad little frown as Greg walked away. He totally forgot about ordering from the bar. He just needed to talk to somebody normal. He regretted it once he left. It’s not like she was actually going to fuck him. She probably just wanted to have a private conversation with him. One of those ones that Lexi had discussed. The ones where you get the real information. He just didn’t know if he was comfortable with that. He’d probably let his daughter down. But on the plus side…he’d honored his vows to his wife by getting the Hell out of there.

Pull it together, Greg, he thought. Just approach somebody and get to know them. Or get to know their character at least. He wanted to talk to somebody who wasn’t already engaged. He didn’t want to interrupt anybody that was already in their groove. Then he saw a man near the bar. The man actually looked to be HIS age. Maybe late 40s or early 50s. He was dressed professionally in a jacket and wore a uniform black flat cap on his head. It was not the look of somebody who was attending a fancy 1960s ball. He looked like a doorman or an elevator operator or something. His outfit looked more like a uniform than cocktail attire. Greg mustered up his inner extrovert and walked up to the man.

Greg: How are you doing this evening, sir?

The man smiled broadly at Greg. He looked genuinely happy to be engaged. This was probably a fellow introvert who was also anxious about the free-wheeling social format of the evening. The man extended his hand to Greg for a shake.

Monty: I’m doing great. Quite the party they’ve thrown here. I’m Montgomery Rhodes. But you can call me Monty.

Greg: Nice to meet you, Monty. I’m Raymond Carruth.

He winced as he said the name. He hadn’t gotten it wrong. That was his character’s name. Not a misread. It also happened to be very similar to the name of a former Carolina Panthers wide receiver who murdered his pregnant girlfriend in the late 1990s. Lexi had assured him that No Proscenium’s plots and stories were expertly crafted, but apparently they could just slap any old name together and make a character without doing any research. Monty raised an eyebrow to him curiously. This man was also around 50. He also was probably an avid sports fan in the late 1990s. He knew the name sounded off.

Greg: I know. I know. Bad luck on the name, right? I assure you. No relation to the other Rae Carruth. You’re thinking of the Carruth murders back in 1937.

Monty smiled. Clearly he had recognized the name and was amused that Greg had addressed it while adhering to the 1968 setting that they were supposed to be operating in. The two broke into a conversation about the party. What they thought about people who they’d talked to. Greg felt a little embarrassed that he couldn’t provide too much info for Monty. He told Monty about his character’s late wife’s demise. The nature of his character’s donations to the Holloway Fund. He told him about his secret meetings with a known racketeer. About his time in the war. He didn’t make Monty work for any of it. There was probably a dance and jive to this game of information exchange. Greg just kind of put it all out there. He hadn’t learned much about other characters other than the fact that the pianist Delilah was a flirty, handsy little minx. And that the Mercers were an unhappily married couple of lushes. Though he couldn’t help but think that that second part was actually not their character’s acting, but more indicative of the couple behind the characters. Monty told him about his conversations with the host of the evening, Clyde Holloway. He told him about Senator Nicholas Fox. And about some lady named Doris Young. He tried to take it all in. He wanted to remember it. He wanted to have something to share with Lexi later when they met back up. Monty hadn’t said anything about himself yet so Greg decided to ask.

Greg: And what is it that you do, Monty?

Monty: I’m a chauffeur. Specifically I’m Senator Fox’s chauffeur. He’s such a kind man. He pays well and treats me kindly. It’s hard to get a leg up in this world as a poor child from San Ysidro coming from such a broken home and such destitution.

Monty was really playing up the character. Greg was intrigued. However, he wanted to push the narrative a little bit towards his own interests. Even if it made Monty improvise a little bit off script. He felt the call and he just had to ask.

Greg: So…what kind of car do you drive the Senator around in?

Monty didn’t miss a beat. He responded as though it was second nature and he’d already readily built this information into his character’s backstory. He gave Greg a wide smile.

Monty: Why the senator rides in style. I drive his 1962 Cadillac Coupe de Ville. It’s got a 325 horsepower 390 CI V-8 engine. It runs real nice. You can get cruising up to 120 mph depending upon the rear axle ratio. Not that the Senator and I would ever head out into the desert and do that. Wink wink. He’s all about safety. Keeping our California communities safe. Which is why he purchased a car with pair of cornering lamps up front. One of the first of its kind.

Greg was impressed. Greg loved cars. All cars. But mainly classic cars. He loved working on them. He loved talking about them. And there was no way that this information was in Monty’s character packet. Monty was just waxing on because he loved cars too. Greg certainly had a soft spot for the 1962 Cadillac Coupe de Ville. It was a great status car of it’s day and revolutionary in many ways.

Greg: My man. You certainly know your vehicle.

Monty: Of course. A good chauffeur always needs to be well versed in the tools of his trade. Just like any craftsman. What do you drive?

Greg smiled.

Greg: Well…my primary vehicle is a modest but reliable family car. But I’ve got a little side project that I work on. I’ve got her up and running after totally restoring her from the tires up. She’s a 1971 Ford Mustang. I used all original parts. The transmission was a doozy to replace but-

Monty: Are you OK, sir? I don’t think the Ford company plans on releasing a 1971 Mustang for another three years.

Greg frowned. He’d forgotten that this was all a game. He’d gotten carried away by his passion and clearly broken character.

Greg: Yes. Sorry. My bad. It’s a 1964 Ford Mustang. You’re absolutely right.

Monty smiled at him, clearly just having a little fun with him.

Monty: Of course. Of course. I’d love to see a photograph of your “1964” Mustang if you have one on you.

Greg smiled back. He had numerous pictures of the Mustang on his phone in various stages as he’d been repairing it over the last three years. No Proscenium didn’t confiscate guests phones. People had babysitters and jobs and emergencies that would make them reticent to part with them. But smart phones were obviously anachronistic to 1968 and were discouraged from being used as they would break the immersion. Greg didn’t care and it didn’t appear that Monty did either.

Greg: Certainly. I’ve got several “photographs” right here.

Greg pulled out his phone and found the Mustang photos in his camera roll. He handed it to Monty.

Monty: Wow. Excellent “photographs”. It’s hard to believe that a top notch car like a 1964 Mustang could fall into such disrepair in just four years. But this is a magnificent restoration.

Clearly Monty was still having fun with the time setting of their current scenario. The two of them talked seamlessly for a while. Monty showed Greg some of his own “photographs”. Of his car. Of repairs he was doing on his home. Of his family. They loosely tried to pretend like they were Raymond Carruth and Montgomery Rhodes. But they were just two guys talking. Two guys connecting. Two guys enjoying each other’s company in a sea of LARPing mystery enthusiasts. Greg wasn’t sure how long they’d been chatting for but apparently it had been a while. They were enjoying each other’s company and sense of humor. They apparently shared a lot of common interests. Their frivolity was momentarily broken when Lexi approached them and touched Greg on the shoulder.

Lexi: Sorry to break up your conversation, but I was wondering if I could have a word with Mr. Carruth?

Monty: Of course. Of course.

Greg: Monty. This is Ms…um…this is Ms. …

Shit. He’d forgotten Lexi’s character name. He scrolled his mind. Oh wait. He remembered.

Greg: Ms. Lillian Fuller. I just met her this evening but she reminds me a lot of my daughter.

Clearly Monty got the code. He smiled and extended his hand to Lexi who politely took it.

Monty: A pleasure to meet you, Ms. Fuller.

Lexi: Likewise, Monty. I’m sorry but I just have some things I need to discuss with Mr. Carruth.

Monty: No problem. Certainly. I’ve been taking up a lot of Mr. Carruth’s time. I probably should see how the Senator is doing and meet some of the other guests. It was very nice talking with you, Mr. Carruth.

Greg knew that he had to continue with the game, but he had enjoyed talking with Monty. And making new friends at 50 was fucking impossible. He was slightly reticent to leave Monty without properly exchanging information. So he pulled out his wallet and took out a business card. It had his real name, Gregory Huff, and his cell phone number on it.

Greg: Monty, it was lovely chatting with you. I’m always looking for a good driver. So if the senator ever lets you consider a side job…I’d love to share a beer and chat about some opportunities.

He handed the card to Monty who smiled broadly. Monty reached into his own pocket and fished out his wallet.

Monty: I’d love that. A beer sounds wonderful.

Monty handed him a business card in return. Greg looked it over. Jim Akers. General contractor. Nice. The two men shook hands and then Monty departed. Greg then gave his full attention to Lexi.
Last edited by Fandango 11 months ago, edited 1 time in total.
charliesmith
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Post by charliesmith »

Brilliant writing. Even without any tugs, I am hooked to your story :D
Please feel free to read and comment your thoughts.
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Roadtrip of Dreams (M/F) Chapter 14 Added.
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Post by Rtj65 »

I've had a lot catch up on with this, but still really enjoyable. Chapter 4 was every bit as intense and dramatic as I had expected, and it was great to see you execute a different sort of tone extremely well. You handled a sensitive situation very tastefully, and it was easy to sympathise with Kylie throughout. It's also sad to see her respond to the situation in the way that she did, but it's understandable. I suspect that the same events from Darren's perspective wouldn't have been as drastically different as Kylie imagines. He might have been outwardly composed, but is just better at masking his feelings. Hopefully things will work out for both of them by the end of the story (which again, is a testament to the quality of your storytelling, because it is easy to care about your characters).

Chapter 5 is obviously completely different, and I think that is what really sets this story apart - it's impossible to predict what sort of scene is coming next, and I'm looking forward to seeing how it all comes together in the end (even though we already have some characters connecting the various chapters). The party makes for a really interesting setting with lots of possibilities, and I'm glad that you took the time to establish in detail before we get to the action in this chapter. Greg is also very relatable I think - I like socialising as much as the next person, but I'd feel pretty nervous going into something like this, even without the element of bondage being involved in the party. I'm sure Lexi will also have an important part to play in this chapter, given how she seems to be fully throwing herself into the experience. Looking forward to the next part!
Male switch from the UK here, always up for a chat about anything TUGs related!

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Post by Fandango »

Chapter 5 - No Proscenium (Greg Huff's POV) F/M, M/F [Part 3 of 7]


Lexi was staring at Greg with a slightly stern but bemused look.

Lexi: It looks like you’ve been over here for 45 minutes.

Greg: Boy. Was it that long? Time flies when you’re having fun.

Lexi looked at him exasperatedly.

Lexi: I’m glad that you found a friend, but that guy isn’t even one of the character actors. He’s not going to be able to give you the goods. He’s just a guest like us.

Greg: I know. Such a nice guy though. Really into cars too.

Lexi: But let’s not forget that we have work to do. How many of the other characters have you interacted with?

Greg: Three. I think. Not including Monty.

Lexi: Good God. Were any of them potential suspects? By that I mean did any of them seem like professional actors contracted by No Proscenium.

Greg: Do we think that the Mercers are paid actors?

Lexi: God No! They’re the farthest thing from it. I’m pretty sure they’re a couple of borderline alcoholics making a last ditch attempt to save their failing marriage. And that is not what their characters are supposed to be. They’re supposed to be philanthropists who are trying to get Holloway to help them save the local wetlands.

Greg: How about Delilah? The pianist. Is she a professional actress?

Lexi: Yes. Definitely. Good. Thank the Lord. You might know something useful. What did she tell you?

Greg: Not much. I was trying to get away from her. She had a poor upbringing. Local to the San Diego area. Mother died during childbirth. Been playing the piano since she was a child. Considered a prodigy. Needs money to fund a tour she wants to do.

Lexi: OK. That’s all good stuff. Why were you trying to get away from her?

Greg: She was being really flirty and really handsy. I haven't encountered a woman that… is “thirsty” the right word? Is that what you kids are saying?

Lexi: Oh my God. Father! Yes. That’s fine. “Thirsty”. OK.

Greg: I haven't encountered a woman that thirsty in a long time. I was uncomfortable.

Lexi: You blew it, you goon. She was trying to take you to a side location and tell you “the good stuff”.

Greg: I didn’t want to go to any side location with her. Her hands were all over me.

Lexi: The secret pull away rendezvous are where they drop the good intel.

Greg: I think she was looking to drop something else. My pants maybe.

Lexi: Father! Stop. She’s just playing her part. You’re the wealthy, desirable widower. She’s the flirty, feisty femme fatale. It’s all part of the act. She wasn’t going to take you into a broom closet and make love to you.

Greg: She’s half my age. She’s probably your age.

Lexi: So? You’re a wealthy, attractive man of means. She wants to be your sugar baby.

Greg: What would your mother think?

Lexi: If my mother was here she would be laughing her ass off and you know it. Have some fun.

Greg: I thought you said the actors couldn’t grope you.

Lexi: She didn’t grab your crotch, did she?

Greg: No. It wasn’t that forward.

Lexi: So where did the bad lady touch you?

Greg pointed to the areas, feeling a little sheepish with how unprovocative they all were. It wasn’t where her hands had been feeling him. It was the seductive nature. It was her tone, her aggression, her powerful presence, the dripping lust in her voice.

Lexi (sarcastically): Oh no. Your elbow, your hip, your shoulder, your side. Let’s call the Special Victims Unit.

Greg: Excuse me. My side on the…INSIDE of my jacket.

Lexi: Woah. Step back, wild child. That was third base in 1968, wasn’t it? You’d know.

Greg: I was born in 1972, Daughter. Show some respect.

Lexi: OK. Game plan. I’m going to give you some names I want you to interact with. Find out what you can. Do you need to write these down?

Greg: No.

Lexi: OK. Clyde Holloway. He’s the host of this shindig. Tall fellow. Over there. Mustache. Second, Senator Fox. I think Monty was supposed to be his aide or something.

Greg: Chauffeur, actually.

Lexi: Fine. Chauffeur. Did he point out Senator Fox to you?

Greg: Yes.

Lexi: Good. Third, Hazel LeFontaine. Red hair. Early 30s. Slinky black dress. No nonsense. She’s a looker. You can’t miss her. She’s dodgy with other woman, but apparently she’ll talk to the men. I need you to crack that nut. If she wants to flirt with you…let her. If she wants to pull you aside for a secret convo…do it. Fourth, Owen Grant. African-American guy. Late 60s. Salt and Pepper hair. He works for Vinny Demitrio.

Greg: The racketeer that my character meets with?

Lexi: That’s the one. Four people, though. Can you handle that?

Greg: Certainly, Daughter. Can I meet with RT first?

Lexi: Who’s RT? I’m pretty sure there is no RT here?

Greg: RT is the bartender over there in the corner. And according to Monty he makes a mean rum runner.

His daughter smirked at him.

Lexi: Really? Raymond Carruth doesn’t seem like the type of guy who drinks rum runners.

Greg: Listen here, Ms. Fuller. I AM Raymond Carruth. And he most certainly drinks rum runners. Loves them. Can’t get enough of them.

Lexi: Ugh. Fine. Just talk to the people I told you about. I’ll meet up with you in an hour. We can crack this whole thing.

Lexi departed and Greg strolled over to the bar. There were a couple other patrons waiting in line as there were only two bartenders working. As he waited he felt a soft hand on his shoulder. He turned around and was staring into the bright green eyes of an attractive red head. She was wearing an alluring black dress that clung to her body and hugged her curves like a sports car on a mountain road. He was a happily married man. He wasn’t going to stare, but he couldn’t help but catch a glimpse of her visage. The actress who played Delilah was cute. He imagined a lot of boys probably went for her. But Delilah had to be about 24. Lexi’s age. She was still a girl. The person in front of him was a woman. A young woman. Early to mid 30s he’d guess. Over her buxom body and tight black dress that showed a tasteful amount of cleavage was a stunning face with an 80 watt smile, piercing green eyes, and sumptuous auburn hair that tumbled down the side of her face in a cut reminiscent of Veronica Lake’s hairstyles in the 1940s. Not again. Two trips to the bar. Two flirty, attractive younger woman approaching him. And this one was slightly more age appropriate and a little too scorching for him not to slightly lust over.

Greg immediately began thinking of a cold shower. He needed to steady himself. He thought about the chores that he had to do. He thought about the two run home run that Bryce Harper had hit last Sunday to knock his beloved Padres out of the NLCS. That had been a real boner killer. The gorgeous redhead smiled at him though as he squirmed uncomfortably.

Hazel: Well, well, well…if it is Raymond Carruth. The man. The myth. The legend.

Greg was disarmed be her flattery of him. Even though she wasn’t really flattering him. She was flattering some rich widowed financier. But it felt nice to have her spotlight. And he felt all the more guilty about it. So long as she didn’t start running her fingers up and down his oblique muscles like Delilah had, he didn’t see any reason why he needed to be guilty. These were just two adult talking. Gathering information. To solve a mystery. He’d made a promise to his daughter. Get clues. Solve the puzzle.

Greg: That’s me. I don’t know that I feel like much of a myth or a legend. But I’m Raymond Carruth. And I’m sorry Miss, but I don’t believe that we’ve –

Hazel: Hazel. Hazel LeFontaine. Perhaps you know my sister? Charlotte LeFontaine?

Greg: Yes. He did know a Charlotte LeFontaine. I mean he didn’t really. But she was mentioned in his bio. Something about eloping and running off with the son of Vinny Demetrio. He’d seen them talking at a card game at Vinny’s the weekend before they disappeared.

Hazel: Ah, yes. Charlotte. Sweet girl. I saw her at the Demetrio establishment a few weeks back. She served drinks there.

He didn’t really know if Charlotte was supposed to be a “sweet girl”. The bio didn’t say anything about that. But he figured that when a family member of somebody you’ve met inquires about them…it’s safest to pay them a compliment.

Hazel: Excellent. I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions about that.

Greg: Sure. Fire away.

Hazel: It’s a delicate matter, my sister. I was wondering if I could talk to you about it…in private.

Oh boy. Private. That’s where people got captured. That’s where people got restrained. This was what Greg had been secretly dreading. But it’s also where people got answers. Greg decided that he owed it to himself and to Lexi to see where this went.

Greg: Did you have somewhere in mind?

Hazel: I certainly do. Follow me.

Hazel took him by the hand and led him towards a hallway by the back of the room. Her hands were soft and warm. Greg hated that he was noticing things like that as he was being led by a strange, beautiful woman to a private meeting in a back room. But she strolled with confidence and guided him through the room and down the hallway. There were a five doors by his count. Two on the right side of the hallway, two on the left side of the hallway. And the hallway dead ended into a black door with a shiny bronze handle. He thought she might be taking him there, but she turned before the final door and opened the second door on the left. He followed her inside and noted that they were ostensibly in a large, non-descript closet. The walls were white. There was no furniture. A single bulb in the ceiling lit the room and a large metal rod passed across the room about 7 ½ or 8 feet up. It was firmly bolted into the walls at both ends of the room. He also saw that there were two cameras in opposite corners of the room. Clearly, even though they were alone…there were people watching for the performer’s safety.

Greg: Um…excuse me ma’am, couldn’t we go somewhere a little more –

Hazel: Shut your stupid, insipid mouth!

Hazel spun on Greg and he saw that she was holding a gun in her hand. She aimed it directly at him and turned towards the door, closing it behind them. Greg wasn’t scared. He knew this was all part of the show. But he figured that he should play along and act like he was. This was preferable to her trying to seduce him in his mind.

Greg: Woah, ma’am. Hazel. I think you have the wrong idea. I’m just –

Hazel: Where is the deed? Give it to me.

Greg: The what?

Greg legitimately did not know what she was talking about. He’d studied the three paragraph bio that they’d given him. He’d practically memorized the thing so that he could be the most helpful and involved player that he could. There was nothing in it about a deed. Nobody had mentioned a deed to him. He had no clue what she was talking about.

Hazel: Don’t play dumb with me, Carruth.

Greg: I would never. I don’t know what you’re talking about.

Hazel: OK. Fine. Play dumb. We’ll do this the hard way. Give me your hands.

Greg: What?

Hazel: Your hands. Put them in front of you.

She pointed the gun at him menacingly. He did as she said. She reached into a her clutch and pulled out a set of handcuffs. She tossed them to him and he caught them.

Hazel: Cuff your left wrist. Now.

He did as she said. He looked over the handcuffs. These were not toy handcuffs. There was no safety latch. These things were the real deal. He knew that this was immersive theater, but this all felt very authentic. If he cuffed the other wrist, he was either going to need keys or bolt cutters to get out.

Hazel: Put your hand over that bar. Toss the other cuff over. And cuff your right wrist. Arms above your head.

Ah. So that was her play. OK. He’d play this game.

He did as she said. Greg was tall enough to grab the bar if he stood on his tiptoes. There was just enough chain that he should be able stand flat footed and cuffed if he was fully stretched out. Greg wondered if they used this room exclusively for six foot males or if the rod’s position on the wall was adjustable. It looked like there might be some sort of ratchet system that adjusted it. And he had put his height on his waiver form. This room appeared to be customizable to the person being captured. And right now it was set up for him. He didn’t love the idea of being captured, but the fact that it had been tailored to him made him feel a little honored. He did as Hazel had demanded. He threw the cuff over the bar and cuffed his right wrist above his head.

Hazel: Are they tight?

Greg: Yes, ma’am.

Hazel: Push it with your thumb. I want to hear if it clicks again.

He did so. He heard one additional click. He felt sheepish. Apparently he hadn’t done exactly what she’d asked.

Hazel: That’s what I thought. Now where is the deed?

Greg: I don’t know what deed you’re talking about.

Hazel: Who did you give it to?

Greg: I didn’t give any deed to anybody.

Greg legitimately did not know what she meant. He saw that she had an ear piece in her ear. It was subtle but he could tell that it was there. So she must be in contact with show runners outside of the game. Was there confusion? Had she captured the wrong person? Was this game not running as smoothly as they’d hoped? Was Greg supposed to know what deed she was talking about?

Hazel: Let’s see.

Hazel approached him and began to manhandle him. He flinched as she shoved her hands into the pockets of his pants. He was now exceedingly uncomfortable.

Greg: Woah!! Hazel, what do you think you’re doing there?

Hazel: I’m going to find out where you’re keeping the deed.

Greg: I told you that I don’t have any deed. I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.

She had begun rifling through the pockets in his inner jacket and almost no sooner had she said this than she pulled out a thin red envelope. Oh boy!! How the hell did that get there?!?! Then it dawned on him. That’s what Delilah was doing. She was planting the deed on him. That tricksy little bitch. Hazel opened the envelope and looked inside.

Hazel: You were saying?

Greg: Listen. I can explain. I legitimately had no clue that that was there. But I might know how it got there.

Hazel looked at him condescendingly. She stayed in character, but he got the impression that the actress believed him…and was disappointed in him. He had had this clue for the better part of an hour and didn’t even realize that it was on him. What a bum!!

Hazel: A likely story. You’re a liar. Just like the company you keep. Now tell me about the last time that you saw my sister. You saw her on the night that she died.

Greg: Died?!?! Your sister eloped with Robert Demetrio.

Hazel: That’s what they WANT everybody to think!! And you mean Bobby Demetrio, the gangster’s son.

Greg: I call him Robert. I don’t want to lean into these stereotypes with the Vinnys and the Paulies and the Bobbys. To me…I use his Christian name.

Hazel: Who did you see talking to my sister that night?

Greg: Robert Demetrio and Owen Grant.

Hazel: And what time did you last see them?

Greg: She served me my last drink at about 1:30am. After that she left with them and a new girl started serving.

Hazel: OK. I need to check into this. You’re going to stay here. But first, I need to give you what you deserve.

Greg: What I deserve?!?!

Hazel began to yank Greg’s tie off. God damn it. She was undressing him. This was some sort of kinky sex thing. He did not want to lose any clothing. He resisted the urge to kick her with his feet. He had no desire to get violent, but he was a married man and stripping him while he was unable to defend himself was simply not something that he considered acceptable. He stared at her in horror as this bombshell of a woman seductively slid his necktie off.

Greg: Hazel. Absolutely not. I have no interest in having things get physical between us. I’m still mourning the loss of my wife and I have no desire to be anything more with you than just two guests at a party.

Hazel: Interesting. Because I have no interest in us being anything else either.

Greg: Then why the hell are you removing my---mmmmmpppppphhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!! Mmmmmmmppppphhhhh!!!!!!! Hhhmmmmppppphhhhhh!!!!! Nnnnmmmmpppphhhhhh!!!!!!!!

Greg was taken completely by surprise as she deftly took his pocket square and shoved it all the way into his mouth. Her nimble fingers pushed it back until he was thoroughly gagged.

Hazel: There you go. That should shut you up. Let me know if you’re having any discomfort or trouble breathing. I mean you no harm, though you probably would deserve it. I just need to keep you out of my way for a little bit while I check on some things.

Hazel pulled Greg’s tie tightly between his lips and yanked it back. She kept hold of it with one hand, while she circled around him so that she was behind him. He could feel her giving the tie a firm yank and then pulling the ends together and knotting them off. The pocket square was pushed firmly back and down against his tongue. He glared at her indignantly. This had been quite the dirty trick. Was she at least going to tell him anything useful? Had the deed been the useful bit? He’d missed it. He couldn’t believe that he hadn’t even noticed that it was there. Hazel simply slipped the deed into her clutch and walked towards the door. Hazel’s alluring looks no longer read sultry temptress. They now boasted of a fiery femme fatale. A cunning, yet duplicitous woman who would lead a man to his ruin. Greg was a little miffed that he was that sucker. That he was the victim here. But he couldn’t deny that it was undeniably hot. It was arousing to be taken advantage of. He didn’t think that thought seemed normal. It felt wrong. If anybody complained to him that they’d been taken advantage of…they’d immediately have his pity. But yet in this scenario…he found it exhilarating. Maybe BECAUSE it felt wrong. And he didn’t feel guilty about enjoying this. He knew that it had less to do with Hazel than it did with him. Hazel was still there. But Greg wasn’t thinking about her. He was thinking about his wife. How he’d like them to incorporate some element of trickery and mistreatment into their sexual role plays.

Greg had never been into bondage. He and his wife hadn’t opened that door. And he still wasn’t sure that he enjoyed it. The cuffs were probably going to be chaffing at his wrists. His arms were in a position that was somewhat uncomfortable and that he hoped would be sustainable. And he certainly wasn’t enjoying the gag. But he was enjoying the predicament. He was enjoying the embarrassment. He was enjoying the bamboozlement. He was enjoying the mistreatment, the degradation, the disregard, and the neglect. He knew he wasn’t really enjoying these things. He loved the fact that his wife unquestionably loved and respected him. He’d never want that to change. That would never be worth it. But they were always good about putting things in their proper places within their lives. And he was thinking that maybe they could play around with these feelings that he was having. Hazel didn’t really hate him. At least he hoped she didn’t. He didn’t know this actress. Her name probably wasn’t Hazel any more than his was Raymond Carruth. She was playing a role. And so was he…kind of. He didn’t think that he was very good at it. But the game had just gotten interesting. He was snapped back to reality by Hazel giving him a cheeky wave and an bright, mischevious smile.

Hazel: So long, sucker. I’m afraid you’re on your own now. Maybe if the stars align for you somebody will be along to help. I’ll be sure to leave this key in a place that is near and dear to everybody’s hearts.

She jangled the handcuff keys at him. He was confused. Near and dear to everybody’s hearts? What the hell did that mean?

Greg: Mmmmmmmppppphhhhhh hhhhhmmmmmppppphhhhhh????

Hazel: Well…Good luck, Raymond. Hope to see you never.

Greg: Nnnmmmpmpppphhhhhhhmmmmmm. Mmmmmmppphhhhhh!!!!!!

She ignored his protests and made her way out the door. Before doing so she shut off the room’s one light, plunging it into darkness. He was trapped. He felt utterly ridiculous and put out in his current predicament. And somehow he was having trouble shaking the idea that he was somehow enjoying it. But he did want to escape. And he was very excited to see where things would go from here.
charliesmith
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Post by charliesmith »

A very nice update. Greg in bondage for the first time. It’ll be interesting to see if he ends up liking it.
Please feel free to read and comment your thoughts.
My ongoing stories:

Roadtrip of Dreams (M/F) Chapter 14 Added.
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Fandango
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Post by Fandango »

Chapter 5 - No Proscenium (Greg Huff's POV) F/M, M/F [Part 4 of 7]




The intrigue and novel feelings of wonder that Greg had felt after Hazel had duped him started to give way to boredom as the minutes began to tick by in darkness. He didn’t understand this whole bondage and restraint thing. When he’d found out that his employees were doing it as part of his escape room, he’d done his best to read up on it. Apparently there were people who enjoyed the feelings of helplessness that being restrained gave them. He didn’t want to knock it…but he had a feeling that that wasn’t him. He was certainly quite helpless right now. But that wasn’t what he had momentarily gotten himself worked up over. It wasn’t the feeling of helplessness so much as it was the feeling of being betrayed and maligned. He missed having somebody lording over him. But he was still glad that Hazel was gone, to a certain extent. He didn’t want it to be her per se. She was a very fetching woman. But he was a happily married man with two children and he felt uncomfortable with how excited he had gotten over the prospect. He decided to test his restraints and see if he should try to escape. He wasn't really sure how. His legs were not restrained. He was able to walk over to the side of the room and touch the wall. He couldn’t see anything in the almost pitch black. But he could feel that the bar that his hands were cuffed to over his head was flush with the wall and disappeared into what appeared to be a fixed track. It did appear that the bar could be raised or lowered depending upon the appropriate height of the victim that they decided to trap with this particular ruse. Interesting. He made a mental note to think about ways to properly customize his escape room so that the customer felt like it was designed just for them. But why was his mind going there. It was always focused on business. He needed to focus on escape.

The cuffs were solid. The bar was solid. The wall was solid. He doubted that he was getting out of them even if he tried with all of his might. He wasn’t going to try with all of his might though. What if he broke something. Given the firmness of the steel bar, the steel cuffs, and the wall…he thought that his wrist might be the most breakable thing in the equation. But he ran an escape room and he made sure that all of his customers knew that they were not to use excessive force to solve a puzzle. This was a puzzle. How was he supposed to escape? Surely he wasn’t expected to stay like this for the rest of the show. There had to be about an hour and a half left. He’d paid a pretty penny for this ticket. No Proscenium wasn’t cheap. But this was a pretty bare bones puzzle, if it was a puzzle. He could still see the small red dot of the security camera in the top corner of the room. He was guessing that he was being observed and the camera probably had infared capabilities. Hazel had said that “somebody might be along to help”. Did he have to summon them? Was he going to have to shout for help? He was gagged. And the room was down a hallway that was out of the way of the main party. And his situation was a little embarrassing. He wasn’t sure that he wanted to be found by just anybody. Especially not by 150 people. What if the whole party saw him like this? But that was probably the answer. He probably needed to try and make a ruckus. To hell with his pride. It was time to test his gag.

Greg: Hhhhhmmmmmmmppppppppphhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!! Mmmmmmmmmmmmpppppphhhhhhh!!!!!!!!! Hhhhhhhmmmmmmmpppppphhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!

Greg shouted into his gag several times. Nothing. It was a pretty effective gag. He remembered how loud the party room had been. There was almost no way that he thought that the sound was getting out there. He wouldn’t be surprised if somebody could hear him just outside the door. But asking his muffled protests and pleas for help to travel through a door, down a lengthy hallway, and into a bustling ballroom and be heard was almost certainly too much. How the hell was he supposed to get out of this? It seemed like he’d already been locked up like this in the dark forever. How long could it have been? 20 minutes? His mouth was certainly starting to get dry. His pocket square was sucking up the moisture in his mouth. But it was no longer dry and scratchy on the inside of his mouth. It was damp and weighty. It still pushed his tongue down to the bottom of his mouth though, making his grunts and shouts entirely unintelligible. He began to search his brain for new tacts on how he should attempt to extricate himself from this situation when he heard the door handle begin to jiggle. His heart skipped a beat.

Slowly he heard the hinges creak and a little sliver of light started to make it’s way across the room. The door was being opened slowly. Who was it? A shadowy hand reached through the partially opened door and found the light switch right next to it. The light flicked on and his pupils began to dilate painfully as he blinked continuously. His surroundings came into focus. The door now swung open and he saw a very familiar figure standing there. It was his daughter, Lexi. The brightness of her blue cocktail dress was almost as glaring as the returned source of light that was now assaulting his eyes. She stood there for a moment in wonder. Her chestnut hair in it’s perfectly coiffed updo and her bright blue eyes that were a Huff family staple taking in the scene. Then he saw her face rapidly morph between a quick succession of looks. The first look was one of shock. Looks of befuddlement, bewilderment, and bemusement followed in quick succession. Her face was speed running through a roulette wheel of emotions as she gawked at him in his helpless state. And he didn’t like where her face settled. It settled on a look of unbridled, mischievous glee. He was a proud father and he treasured his daughter’s smile. But this was one of the dozen or so brightest that he’d seen from her and it appeared to be directed at his currently plight. She put her hands on her hips, with arms akimbo and cocked her head at him in a cheeky manner.

Lexi: Well, well, well. It looks like somebody got you good, doesn’t it?

Greg: Mmmmppphhh hhhhmmmppphhhh.

Lexi: I’ve been busting my butt out there trying to solve who stole from Clyde Holloway’s family trust and you’re putzing around in here?

Oh, so that’s how this was going to go. Greg was in for another round of teasing. He didn’t think that he was going to particularly enjoy this one. But Lexi was clearly having a blast. Greg just grumbled indignantly at her into the gag.

Greg: Hhhmmmppphhhhrrrrmmmmppphhhhmmmmmm.

Lexi: What was that? I’m not quite sure that I got that.

Greg: Mmmmppphhhh hhhmmmpppphhhhh mmmppphhhhh!!

Lexi’s Cheshire Cat grin grew even larger as she strolled confidently up to him. She locked eyes with him and he saw a sly, mischievous glint come into them which was entirely unrecognizable to him.

Lexi: You know, you haven’t been that great at gathering clues as of yet. I think I might need to get a new partner. Monty, maybe.

Greg: Hhhmmmppphhhhh???

Lexi: I think I might just leave you here.

She had better fucking not.

Greg: Mmmmmmpppphhhh hhhhhmmmppphhhh hhhmmmppphhhmmmmmmmm!!

Lexi gave him a playful little canned response that she’d probably been saving no matter what he’d shouted.

Lexi: I’m sorry. I can’t understand you. Enunciate, Father.

He’d said “Don’t You Dare”. He understand if she couldn’t understand…but he was pretty sure that she could extrapolate.

Lexi: Yeah. I’m going to leave you here to think about your mistakes. Consider it a “time out”, Father. You always loved handing those out to me when I was younger.

Hardy har har. Yuck it up, Daughter. You’re just wasting time. He didn’t think that she’d actually do it. But he grunted indignantly anyway to let her know that he did not like that idea.

Greg: Nnnmmmmpppphhhh. Mmmmppphhhh mmmppphhhmmm hhhmmpphhh.

Lexi: Oh. But one thing first. Of course.

Lexi reached into her clutch and pulled out her phone. Greg already knew what she was doing. And this didn’t sit well with him either. She stepped back just a step or two and framed his face and upper body on her phone screen. He then heard the shutter sound as she took a picture. She took a couple pictures as he protested into his gag.

Greg: Mmmmmppphhhhhh hhhhhmmmppppphhhhh mmmmpppphhhhhmmmmmm!!!!!!!

Lexi: Oh. These are great. I can’t wait to send these out.

Greg: Nnnmmmppppphhhh mmmmmppphhhh hhhmmmppphhhh!!!!!

Lexi: Well, see you later, Father. This look really suits you.

She was already backing her way towards the door while grinning devilishly at him. She gave him a little wink and wave that lacked Hazel’s sultry vibe, but captured her same condescending nature. Then she walked out the door and closed it behind her. At least she left the light on. Greg could now see around the room. There still did not appear to be anyway for him to free himself. He supposed that the proper way out of this room was to NOT have a treacherous daughter for a partner. At least he would need to buy a few less Christmas presents in the next couple of months. So…silver linings. He didn’t think that she had just randomly found this room. The game had clearly funneled her here. Hopefully, the person watching him on the video feed would note that he had NOT been freed and send somebody else. HE didn’t know how long that would take though. But that was probably his best bet. He didn’t know that he loved the prospect of somebody else finding him. He would deal with his daughter’s betrayal. Other people were a greater variable. But he knew that he now wanted to be released. Lexi belittling him and abandoning him hadn’t been nearly as fun as when Hazel had done it.

He continued to struggle and test the gag. It was to no avail. He knew he needed the key. Hazel had given him a hint as to how to get it. He ran an escape room. He knew what the progression of this scenario was. He was helpless. He needed somebody to help him out. His shiftless daughter had clearly abandoned him and he wondered when the next person would be coming around. How long had it been since Lexi had left? 15 minutes? 20 minutes? The cuffs were beginning to chaff on his wrists a little bit and he could feel his mouth growing dry from the way that his pocket square was sopping up his saliva. He hoped that it would be soon. He wasn’t exceedingly uncomfortable by any stretch but it was starting to get annoying just being helplessly held with his arms above his head in a white room all by himself. He was starting to think that maybe he had preferred the darkness. The white walls were just…boring. Couldn’t they zhuzh the room up a little bit? People were apparently restrained here regularly. Couldn’t they write something interesting on the wall to read. Maybe present some clues to the game so that people could make up for the fact that they were out of the game and not gathering intel. Finally, mercifully, he saw the door handle turn. The door swung open with more haste this time and in walked Lexi again. She smiled broadly at him.

Lexi: You’re still here, huh? Some detective you are. Nancy Drew would have been long gone by now.

Greg: Mmmmmmpppphhhhhhh hhhhhmmmppphhhrrrmmmmmm mmmmmpppppphhhhhhh!!!!

Greg was indignant now. And he was letting Lexi know it. It was time to ungag him.

Lexi: Relax. I’m coming. I’m coming.

Lexi strolled up to him and hooked two of her fingers between his cheek and the necktie that was gagging him. She then deftly pulled them toward her, pulling the tie out of his mouth and dropped it down like a collar around his neck. She then held out her hand and caught the damp pocket square that he pushed out of his mouth with his tongue. She looked at it with derision and held it gingerly by one of the dry corners like it was a plague rat.

Greg: Nancy Drew would have been out by now because Bess and George would have untied her. She’s not an escape artist. She’s a detective and she relies and depends on the help of her partners. Like a good detective.

Lexi frowned a little bit and Greg immediately felt a little bad for his tone. She was just having fun and he’d made her feel bad. This whole night was so that she could have fun. He hadn’t really come here to learn about incorporating frivolous tie-ups into his escape room. He’d come here to have a good time with his daughter. And by all accounts she was having fun. But his analogy had made her re-think her playful little betrayal. Lexi had always been a big Nancy Drew fan and Greg had read the stories to her when she was a little girl. So he was familiar with the characters and invoking Nancy’s trust in her friends in the wake of Lexi’s little prank had doused her a little bit.

Lexi: I’m sorry, Father. I was just having a little fun.

Greg: I know. I know. I’m not that mad. I just hope you’re OK with the fact that you burnt 20 minutes that we could be using to solve this mystery.

Now a smile crept back onto Lexi’s face. She gave him a supercilious look.

Lexi: Twenty minutes?!?! Is that how long you think I left you for?!?!

Greg didn’t know. Was he that far off?

Greg: There isn’t a clock in here. I don’t know.

Lexi: Man. I’m sorry. You must REALLY hate it in here. I was waiting outside the door for FOUR minutes. I timed it.

Lexi held up her phone. The timer was running it currently said 05:12…05:13…05:14. Greg now felt a little embarrassed about how bad his internal clock was. Four minutes had felt almost five times as long as his mind had raced in his predicament.

Greg: Fine. Sorry. Four minutes. I hope you enjoyed it.

Lexi: I did. Thoroughly. Now how do we get you out of here?

Greg: The lady who handcuffed me told me that she was going to leave the keys somewhere that was “Near and Dear to Everybody’s Hearts”. I have no clue what that means. I was hoping that you did.

Lexi smiled broadly. A twinkle shot into her eyes. She crumpled up the pocket square and shoved the moist cloth back into the pocket of his jacket. Strange. And uncomfortable. But she clearly didn’t want to hold it anymore.

Lexi: Of course I do. Have you talked to any of the actors at this thing? They all use the same line when they refer to the recently departed Mrs. Whimshaw. She was the beloved caretaker of this estate for over fifty years. Her picture hangs above the mantle in her memory. I think her urn is there too. Which is kind of weird. But every single actor says the same line when talking about her. She was so “near and dear to everybody’s hearts”. The stock phrase was becoming really creepy with how many times I heard it. It made them sound like a bunch of Stepford wives. But I figured it was a clue. Apparently…it’s a clue for THIS situation. The key will be over there. Maybe under the portrait. Hopefully not in the urn. That would look odd. Me digging through some recently deceased matron’s ashes. I'll be back in a jiff, Daddio.

Daddio? That felt weird. The formality of “Father” was silly in it’s own way, but the lackadaisical nonchalance of “Daddio” just felt off. Regardless, Lexi ran out of the room and back into the hallway. She didn’t even bother to shut the door behind her this time as he saw a whir of a bright blue cocktail dress turn sharply to scamper down the hallway. Four minutes had seemed like twenty, huh? This whole helplessness thing sure did a number on your perception of time. He decided to count in his head now to see how long it took. He was only at about 150 or so before he heard sharp footsteps in the hallway. Lexi rushed back into the room waving a small key in front of her face excitedly.

Lexi: Got it.

She ran up to him and stood on her tiptoes so that she could reach the lock. She still couldn’t really reach it. Greg was over six feet tall and had well over half a foot on her in addition to an increased wingspan. Lexi jumped up. Grabbed the bar that he was cuffed to and hung on like it was a set of monkey bars. The bar was clearly very sturdy. The additional weight of Lexi did nothing to strain it. She took the key in one hand and inserted it into the cuff. He heard a click and the cuff popped open. He extricated his wrist from it as Lexi dropped down off of the bar. He took the key and unlocked his other wrist.

Greg: Oh. And Daughter. Just what do you think you’re going to be doing with those little pictures that you snapped?

Lexi grinned sheepishly at him.

Lexi: Relax. I just sent one of them to Mom. I already learned my lesson on that one.

Greg was confused.

Greg: What do you mean, “you already learned your lesson”?

Lexi: I sent Mom a picture of you like that and she sent me back the Drooling Face emoji. You know which one? The one that nobody over the age of 30 should ever use, ever, unless maybe it’s preceded by a picture of fajitas or tiramisu. And maybe not even then. And especially that a mother should never use with her impressionable young daughter.

Greg: You’re 24. And I wish that you were ever impressionable to anything that your parents did.

The last part had been a quip in jest. Lexi did take after her parents. And she was a great daughter. She knew that.

Lexi: Don’t worry. I sent her back the Vomiting Emoji.

Greg had to ponder this. Had his wife been trolling their daughter? Was that the word? Trolling? He wasn’t sure. But his wife had never expressed an interest in bondage before. He didn’t think that he was into it. But he was always game to indulge whatever desires his wife had. Was this going to be something that they were going to need to talk about in the near future? He’d figure that out later. They had a more pressing mystery that they needed to solve.

Greg: Do we have a new game plan, Daughter?

Lexi: I’ve learned of a lot of things, but the story just seems to be getting more and more muddled. I’m getting contradictory information from characters and it’s difficult to sort through. We’ve got about eighty minutes left. Talk to as many actors as you can. Get as much information as you can. We’ll meet up with twenty minutes to go and talk it all out. Sound good?

Greg: Sounds great.

Lexi and Greg exited the room that had served as his temporary prison. He was busy undoing the necktie around his neck so that he could re-tie it and try to look presentable again. After all, he had some interviews to take care of.
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Post by Caesar73 »

Love this chapter! Greg dominated by Lexi is very well written [mention]Fandango[/mention] !
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Post by charliesmith »

This chapter was very fun! I loved the interaction between Greg and his daughter. Very cute and fun.
Please feel free to read and comment your thoughts.
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Post by GreyLord »

The interplay between Greg and Lexi was, indeed, great. I wonder if it isn't going to come back on Lexi, however. I sure that Greg would do it in a kind and loving way. But he doesn't seem like the type just to let this slide.
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Post by Rtj65 »

The playful vibe in the last couple of parts has been really enjoyable to read, and obviously quite a significant shift in tone from the previous chapter. Lexi just sounds like she'd be a blast to hang out with in any context, and I enjoyed her teasing of Greg. You've actually got me invested in whether they manage to solve this puzzle or not - which all things considered seems to be of minor importance to the rest of the story - so that's testament to the quality of your writing here
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Post by Fandango »

Chapter 5 - No Proscenium (Greg Huff's POV) F/M, M/F [Part 5 of 7]



Greg sped through as many interviews as he could. He was just trying to gather as much information as possible so that he could hopefully share something useful with Lexi when it came time to solve the mystery. He spoke with Clyde Holloway. He spoke with Owen Grant. He chatted with Senator Fox and put in a good word about Monty’s performance and professionalism. He even spoke with Betty Dumont. She hadn’t been on Lexi’s list of people for him to interview, but he’d done it anyway. She had a bunch of information about local courier services which may or may not be useful. He thought it might. But he couldn’t imagine how.

Greg did think that Lexi had a bit of a wrong idea about the way that this game was supposed to work. She wanted to win. She wanted to accomplish the insanely difficult. She wanted to solve the mystery. But it was becoming clear that this game had so many odd pieces and moving parts that solving the mystery was close to a fool’s errand. People did it. Greg was sure that you COULD do it. But he wasn’t sure that you could do it and REALLY enjoy yourself. Solving the mystery put you on such a breakneck fact finding pace that it was hard to really immerse yourself, as was the intention. She was focusing on the actors. Maybe you should wade into the other guests. This was a chance to talk with other regular people. To enjoy their company. To make new friends. If he and Jim (AKA Monty) could go out for a beer and talk about cars then that was going to be the best thing about this night for him.

But he found himself looking for the character of Colin Woods whom he was pretty sure was also an actor. Because he did want to help his daughter solve this convoluted nonsense tale. But as he was scanning the room he saw a young couple approach him. They looked to be in their early to mid-30s. Vaguely Hispanic, but probably mixed race. They both had dark hair. The man was dressed in a suit like himself. He wore a tie that had a helix pattern running through it in shades of blue and green. His hair was cut short and he had a friendly smile on his face. He was a couple inches shorter than Greg, but looked pretty fit. The woman with him was wearing a sharp purple dress. She was attractive, but in a very approachable way. Her dark black hair was fashioned in an elaborate updo. Her eyes were bright and her smile was inviting. Greg didn’t look at her body much because he didn't have a wandering eye, because she was probably with her husband, and because his peripheral vision told him that was it probably sensational and he didn’t want to stare.

Harris: Hello there, sir. I’m Harris Mitchell. Local real estate agent. Surely you’ve seen my ads in the Union.

Greg examined the man. He was clearly introducing his character. The Union had merged with the Tribune in 1992 to form the San Diego Union-Tribune. So calling it the Union meant that he was being loyal to the 1968 setting. Also…what real estate agent just expected that people read newspapers in 2022.

Greg: Raymond Carruth. Pleased to meet you. Imports and exports. And I’m afraid I don’t read the Union. I’m more of an Evening Tribune man.

“Harris” eyed him suspiciously. Greg thought he knew why. Again.

Greg: No relation to that other Raymond Carruth. But that is my name. I didn’t choose it.

He shot Harris a cheeky smile which Harris returned. Immediately glad that they both realized that his character’s name was the same as a somewhat famous murderer and this had seemingly slipped under No Proscenium’s radar.

Jane: Hi. I’m Jane Carrasco. City Councilmember.

Greg noticed that Jane had her arm wrapped lovingly around Harris’s waist with her hand on his opposite hip. Harris’s hand was against Jane’s opposite shoulder, rubbing it endearingly.

Greg: Are you two a couple?

They looked at each other for a moment as though unsure how to respond. They grinned sheepishly at each other and then Jane took her hand off his hip and Harris stopped petting her shoulder.

Harris: Umm….no. No. We’ve only just met tonight.

Harris gave him a little wink to acknowledge that clearly they were a couple in “real life” but had clearly been breaking character. This man and woman were a couple, but “Harris” and “Jane” were not. They had been given characters whose stories didn’t have much overlap. Somewhat like Greg’s “Raymond Carruth” and Lexi’s “Lillian Fuller".

Greg: OK. I understand completely.

Jane eyed Harris and something exchanged in their gaze which Greg was clearly not privy to. He bade her with a little nod to ask whatever question she was going to ask and she steadied herself and addressed Greg.

Jane: Could we ask you a hypothetical question in a world where maybe we were a couple?

Greg smiled at them. They wanted permission to break character. He wasn’t a stickler for this sort of thing. Sure. That was fine.

Greg: Sure. Fire away.

Harris: Did you check the box?

Oh. So that’s what this was about. Greg couldn’t help but smile a little bit at the delicateness with which the question was presented to him.

Greg: Yes. I checked the box.

Harris: And what exactly happened? We saw you go down the hallway with Hazel? We’ve seen a couple of guests get pulled aside into side rooms. Side quests if you will. What exactly happens?

Greg wasn’t sure that he should ruin the surprise for them. He also didn’t know that he wanted to field what he was sure were some of the follow up questions.

Greg: I’m sorry. What happens in side room, stays in side room.

Both of them frowned a little bit and looked sheepishly at him. He couldn’t help but smile and figured he’d do best to relent and answer their inquiries.

Greg: Alright. I’m just kidding. With specificity, what would you like to know?

Now it was Jane that was looking at him and trying to figure out how she was going to ask what she clearly wanted to ask.

Jane: When she took you back there, did she…um….make you…

Jane pulled her hands behind her back and began to wiggle her body in a very cute but slightly seductive way while making little muffled grunts with her mouth.

Jane: ….mmmppppphhhhhh. mmmmmppphhhhhh.

She blushed. Harris blushed. Greg was pretty sure he was blushnig. She had beaten around the bush trying to find the words only to just come right out with it in a little pantomime. Greg chuckled.

Greg: Are you asking if she tied me up?

Jane: Yeah.

Greg: No. Actually I tied her up.

Jane let out a little gasp. Clearly this was shocking to her.

Jane: Really?!?!

Greg: No. Not really. She handcuffed me and gagged me with this tie.

Greg alluded to the tie that he was currently wearing. It was probably a little wrinkled and perhaps a bit damp, but it appeared no worse for the wear. Now it was Jane and Hector’s turn to chuckle.

Jane: How was it?

Greg: Honestly. I don’t know how I feel about it. I’m still working through that.

Jane: Was it uncomfortable?

Greg: A little. Probably more for my pride than on my actual body.

Jane: Yeah. I wasn’t sure about that whole thing. We wanted to try it but I chickened out at the last minute. Anthony…ummm…I mean Harris was going to do it. But I didn’t want him to do it without me. We’re using this go around as research. We might try checking the box next time.

Greg: OK. It’s not that bad.

Jane: I didn’t want to check the box and have it be like McKamey Manor or something.

Greg: Oh God no!

Jane: Have you done McKamey Manor?

Greg: No. But I was never worried that Hazel was going to knock my teeth out. So I’d say there’s a difference.

Jane: Ummmm…did that happen at McKamey?

Greg: I have no clue. Probably not. But one hears urban legends. And the videos make it look pretty intense.

Jane: OK. Then maybe we’ll check the box when we come back.

Greg: But you’ll already have done the show. Is there a lot of replay-ability to coming back.

Harris: Oh sure. We’re never going to solve this thing tonight. The storyline is too complex. We’ll come back in a couple months and give it another go.

Greg: But you can’t win the prize if it’s your second time.

Harris: I don’t think that we’re that motivated by the prize. It seems almost impossible. They advertise the win rate as 7%, but I hear it’s probably more like 3%. I can’t imagine what kind of people could win…especially without a big group working together to gather intel.

Greg: Well…my daughter is certainly around here somewhere. Trying her hardest. She’s SUPER competitive.

Harris: Oh. We’re competitive too. But this is more about the immersion for us. We’d love to win. But we’d rather have fun. Is this something that you do regularly?

Greg: This?

Harris: Immersive theater? Puzzles and games? Improvisation?

Greg: Nothing like this. But I do own an escape room company. So I’m in the business of immersive theaters and games, you could say.

Jane immediately let out another small gasp and perked up adorably. She was super excited.

Jane: Oh my God. We LOVE escape rooms. They’re the best. We just did the Black and White room at Mindfox Escapes last weekend. Soooo fun.

Greg was familiar with Mindfox. They ran a room called Moriarty’s Manor which was one of the other top rooms in San Diego. They were a top notch outfit and very friendly.

Greg: Oh yeah. Mindfox is great.

Harris: Which rooms do you run?

Greg: Actually. My friend Dean and I co-own CryptIQ Escapes. We only have ONE room right now, but we’re working on expanding with…

Jane: Shut. The. Fuck. Up!!

Greg looked over at Jane. She looked like she’d been God smacked. She was clearly very excited. Greg had certainly not been expecting the salty language. But it was somehow said in the nicest, most excited, most respectful way possible. Harris also seemed taken aback by his partner’s proclamation. But he had a huge smile on his face.

Harris: Are you serious?

Greg: Ummm….yes.

Harris: That is the single greatest escape room we’ve ever done. We did it with a couple friends of ours that are in our escape crew. We were “Wowed” by the entire thing.

Greg could imagine just why this couple was so enamored with the escape room. They were clearly interested in rope play and his room offered that. But he was just glad that they liked it.

Harris: The transition that the player goes through from the wardrobe to the sub-basement…pure genius.

Greg: We call it the Drop Out.

Harris: The Drop Out. Legendary. And how hard was it to program that box and coin puzzle. That thing was state of the art. I have no clue how that works.

Greg: Honestly. Pretty tricky. But I do work as a software engineer on the side. I have for over 25 years. Escape rooms are kind of my side hustle. So I had a background for that sort of puzzle.

Harris: Well. It’s amazing. And we’ve done some of the best. Storykeeper in Seattle. Ghost Patrol in Oakland. Servants of Sleight in Clearwater, Florida. We do them whenever we travel. And Lunatic’s Lair still rules them all. Right in our own hometown.

Greg was extremely flattered by the high praise from somebody who was clearly knowledgeable about the industry and it’s offerings. He also liked that Harris hadn’t mentioned that he’d loved the room because it allowed him to see Lexi bound and gagged. Maybe they’d done the room before that change had been made. The actor had only been getting tied up for about seven months. The room had been open for over twice that long. But then Jane made an inquiry.

Jane: And the character Parker gets tied up in your room. What was the inspiration for that?

Greg blushed. OK. So they’d done the room in the last seven months. He decided to just be honest and throw his daughter under the bus. That it had been her reckless scheme.

Greg: Yeah. That wasn’t originally an approved part of the game. My daughter added that little bit without my knowledge a while ago. And I was none too happy about it. She actually brought me here to convince me that it’s a good idea.

Harris: I think it’s a great addition. It adds a lot to the room.

Greg decided that he was just going to state the obvious, without directly accusing Harris of anything.

Greg: Yeah. But I don’t know how I feel about having my daughter bound and gagged in front of strangers.

Harris looked understanding and pensive and a little confused.

Harris: Yeah. I get that 100%. I guess I didn’t realize that your daughter played Parker also. We thought Parker was a guy. When we went there was a blond guy with sideburns playing the part. Our friend loved it. He’s queer and thought that it was great that you had incorporated an LGTQ storyline into an escape room without kowtowing to the conservative, Christian customer base.

Interesting. So Harris had loved the room and hadn’t even experienced a bound and gagged WOMAN inside of it. Luke had been playing the role of Parker when Harris and Jane had come.

Greg: Parker can be male or female. It was chosen as a very gender neutral name to give us more flexibility depending upon who is working that day.

Harris: That’s really smart.

Jane: So smart.

Greg asked the next question…delicately.

Greg: But you enjoyed the room just as much even though the actor was a male.

Harris eyed him a little wearily. The question was not meant to sound accusatory. But obviously it was.

Harris: Of course. Why wouldn’t I?

Greg was too embarrassed to answer that question. Harris just smiled at him.

Harris: I get it. You don’t want people getting all hot and bothered over your family, or possibly any of your employees, while they’re tied up. But I think that you’re focused too much on the arousal aspect of it. That’s not what makes it great.

That obviously was what Greg was worried about. He was convinced that that’s what people liked about it.

Harris: How many times have you ever walked into a room with a tightly restrained hostage that you need to rescue?

Greg: Ummmm….never.

Harris: OK. And for what number of people do you think that answer is different?

Greg: Certainly not many.

Harris: Exactly. That aspect of your room is allowing people to live an experience that nobody ever gets. To be a big damn hero. It’s certainly a fantasy. But it’s not always a sexy fantasy. It’s a power fantasy. It’s an ego boost. It’s thrilling.

Greg: Your probably right. I guess I just dwell on the negative. The liability issues. The worst case scenarios.

Harris: You’re being a protective father. That makes sense. I’m not going to tell you that nobody enjoys seeing your employees like that. I’m just telling you that it’s MORE than that. It’s good that you’re looking out for them. And for your daughter. She’s very lucky to have a father that cares about her.

Greg now thought back to Lexi. They were probably supposed to meet up sometime right about now. He looked at his watch. Yep. This was exactly when they were supposed to meet.

Greg: I’m sorry. I don’t mean to interrupt but I do actually need to find my daughter. Despite your assertion that this thing is impossible to win. She REALLY wants to win. And we were going to meet up and try and exchange notes.

Greg gave a quick look around the room. He couldn’t see Lexi though. He wasn’t sure where she’d gotten off to.

Greg: I don’t see her though. She had a bright blue dress. She was playing a character named Lillian Fisher.

Jane: I can’t say that it rings a bell. I don’t know that we’ve talked to her. But it was very nice to meet you. And Anthony and I are eagerly awaiting that second room that you and your partner are working on. We’ll be the first ones in line.

Greg: Thank you so much. It was wonderful to meet you.

Greg shook their hands as he went to go look for Lexi. He didn’t know that he had too much for her, but some of his interviews had yielded some interesting tidbits. She’d have to meet him more than halfway if she wanted to solve this thing though. He circled the room looking for her. Then he did so again. Nothing. She didn’t appear to be in the main ball room. As he completed his second rotation he saw a friendly, familiar face. It was Jim “Monty” Akers.

Greg: Hey, Monty. Have you seen Lillian Fisher.

Monty: Your “not daughter” daughter.

Greg: That’s the one.

Monty: Yeah. I saw her. But it was a while ago. She was talking with Colin Woods. The guy who manages the Seaport. I saw them going upstairs.

Monty pointed to the staircase to Greg’s right. It went up to a lofted second story walkway and that branched off into two separate hallways at different points.

Greg: Thanks. I was supposed to meet her to discuss some things but couldn’t seem to find her.

Monty: No problem. Good luck.

Greg hustled up the stairs and turned right at the top down the walkway. He could see down onto the main party. There were only two other people up on the elevated walkway. Two sharply dressed men that were chatting with each other and seemed to be taking in an aerial view of the party. Greg passed them and turned down the first hallway. It was a fairly shallow hallway. But there were three doors. One on each side of the hallway and one at the very end. Greg went to the door on the left. It was the restroom. The guests had been told that there were two upstairs restrooms and two downstairs restrooms. The downstairs restrooms were larger gendered restrooms with multiple stalls (and urinals in the men’s room). This was a single occupancy gender-neutral restroom. He opened the door and saw that it was empty. He then tried the door on the right side of the hallway. It was locked. Finally he walked down to the door at the end of the hallway. There was a sign on the door. It read: “Employees Only. Control Room. Off Limits.” OK. Greg wasn’t going to screw with that. This was probably akin to the control room that he had at CryptIQ Escapes.

Greg walked back down the hallway and continued along the elevated walkway to the other hallway. This one was a little deeper. There appeared to be five doors in this hallway. As far as he could tell. These were the only other rooms on the upper floor. Either Lexi had come back downstairs or she had to be in one of these. The first door on the right was clearly marked as another restroom. Greg didn’t try it this time. He just walked right past it. He then opened the door on the left. He felt the handle turn and slowly opened the door. The room was not completely dark. But it was dim. It was also a slightly larger room than Greg was expecting. His eyes began to scan the room from left to right starting with the source of the light. There was lamp on next to a comfortable looking love seat against the left wall. In the back of the room was a work desk with an older looking computer monitor. The computer was on it’s bright lava lamp-esque colorful morphing screen saver. That was adding an additional glow to the room. Directly in front of him was what appeared to be a small poker table with four chairs organized around it. Greg continued to shift his vision to the right when he heard a sudden sound that made him jump back in surprise.

Lexi: Mmmmmmmmmmppppppphhhhh!!!!!! Mmmmmmpppppppphhhhhhh!!!!!

He immediately turned to the source of the noise. It was coming from his right and down at floor level. The room was still dimly lit but there was no mistaking the sight that he now found before him. It was a young woman in a bright blue dress. She was hogtied with rope on the floor near the corner of the room and a strip of dark black tape was plastered over her mouth muffling the pleas and grunts which were now pouring out of that mouth with urgency. Her big, bright blue eyes, which he could easily tell were blue even in the dim lighting , were staring up at him pleadingly. Beseeching him to free her. There was no mistaking it. It was Lexi. This is where she had gotten off to.
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Post by GreyLord »

Another good part to this chapter. I thought the conversation with Jane and Harris was a nice touch. And you ended on a high point with the hogtied Lexi. All in all, grade A.
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Post by charliesmith »

Amazing update. I thoroughly enjoyed the action Jane made to ask if Greg was tied up.

It’s going to be interesting to see how Greg taunts his bound and gagged daughter now. The scene has been set! Exciting stuff!
Please feel free to read and comment your thoughts.
My ongoing stories:

Roadtrip of Dreams (M/F) Chapter 14 Added.
Rtj65
Centennial Club
Centennial Club
Posts: 327
Joined: 4 years ago
Location: UK

Post by Rtj65 »

Great stuff, this chapter is building very steadily towards a conclusion, but it's going to be fun to see what happens next with Lexi before then. I also get the impression that 'Harris' and 'Jane' are going to feature again later in the story somehow, but otherwise it's very tough to call where things will go next, which is great from a reader's perspective
Male switch from the UK here, always up for a chat about anything TUGs related!

My stories
Causality (F/M) - https://tugstories.com/viewtopic.php?f=17&t=9909
A Grey Area (M/F) - https://tugstories.com/viewtopic.php?f=17&t=12604
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