The usual caveats: if you are under eighteen, please come back when you can legally read this sort of thing. If you don't find ropes and gags enhancements to lovemaking, you are unlikely to enjoy this; if you do, then you well may.
Please do not post this tale to any other site without permission, and please do not post it as your own work. These stories take labor to produce, unlikely as it may seem, and I enjoy receiving the credit. Alan Katz, this means you!
VARIATIONS ON A THEME BY HOUDINI
OK, OK, so there's no way you're going to believe this, but I swear it happened. And let me tell, you, when you run an antique shop, you meet up with more characters and crazy stunts than you might figure. Heck, I could tell you some tales ... but I started to tell you this one, didn't I, so I guess I ought to get back to it. The box was part of a small estate I bought. I was really after the two bookcases, solid oak and needing only a little work before they would sell, big time, I knew, in my shop. But the guy selling off his old uncle's stuff wouldn't sell just the bookcases. He wanted to sell the whole lot, and he said he'd go to Joe Marcani and ask him what he'd pay for the lot if I didn't take it all. So I did. There were some other good things besides the cases, so I figured what the hey. The box wasn't one of them, though, and I pretty much ignored it at first. Later on, I took a closer look, and I saw that it might be bronze. It still wouldn't be much, I thought. It was just a plain canister, half a foot high, with a tightly screwed on top. When I untwisted the round cover, the inside was as empty as I had expected, and smelt faintly of tobacco. Whether or not that was what it had been meant for, the uncle, it seemed, had used it for his pipe mix. Sweet-smelling stuff, fortunately, since I wasn't too sure if I could get the smell to leave off. I decided I should clean the thing up a bit, not polish it mind you, just get the grimy dust and such off, since it looked like no one had cleaned the canister in a hundred years. And that's when it happened.
It wasn't quite like it happens in the fairy tales. I mean, I didn't start to rub the box and out came a big cloud of smoke with a genie inside. There wasn't any cloud of smoke at all. I was cleaning the canister, and then he was there, standing beside me. And I knew damned well he hadn't walked in the door of the shop. It was nine at night, on a Saturday, the door was looked, and I was only ten feet away from it anyway. He was just there. One minute he wasn't there, and the next, he was. He didn't say anything, or do any sweeping bows, or any of the rest of it, either. He was just there, quietly waiting. I guess the only thing that was like a fairy tale genie about him was sort of how he looked. He was a nice-looking, actually, rather handsome guy, about middling height, and dark, with brown skin, a dark beard that was beginning to go gray, rather becomingly, I might add, and eyes that were a warm, light brown. I couldn't see his hair, since he wore a turban of some plain, white material. That was what else was sort of genie- like about him. He was dressed in sort of pyjamas, very plain, very neat, white pants and white shirt, and that white turban. He was looking at me, quietly, kind of expectantly. He scared the heck out of me, if you want the truth.
"Where the hell did you come from?" I yelped. Not very polite, but, like I said, he'd scared the heck out of me.
Then he did, well, not exactly bow, but sort of incline his head, and said, "From the box, sir."
I stared at him. This was crazy.
"What do you mean, from the box?
"He again did that little nod of his head and said, "From the box, sir. You rubbed the box, and I am here, as you wished."
"As I wished?" I said, stupidly.
"You did not, sir?"
"No, I mean, yes, I mean no, I didn't wish, not that I know of."
He looked a bit sad, I thought, even then, but he did that little nod again. "Then I will return, sir."
And he was gone. I mean it. He was just gone, like that.
I stared at the place where he had been for a long moment. I was trying to figure out if I'd just had a little five minute spell of being nuts, or what. Then I said, "Hey, where'd you go? Come back."
And he did. Just like before, he was there and then he was gone; well, now he wasn't there and then he was. I stared at him.
"How'd you do that?"
He looked at me, a little smile on his face, and sort of shrugged, his hands lifted up.
"Do it again."
He looked at me quizzically.
"Do it again, please. Go. And come back."
He nodded that little nod of his, and then he wasn't there. And then, half a minute later, he was.
"Who are you?" I said, and I heard my voice sounding very shaky and kind of small.
"I am the genie of the box, sir. And now your servant."
I guess that's just about when I fainted. Stupid, really stupid, I know, but my mind was running on aliens and spaceship abductions, and I don't know what all, and he says he's a genie and my servant. I wasn't out for long. I woke up still in my chair, with the, well, the genie bending over me, looking anxious. I jerked away from him and sat up.
"Are you ill, sir?"
"Me? No, I'm fine."
He stood up straight, still looking anxious.
I stared at him, and he looked back at me, He really was a good-looking fellow, middle- aged, yeah, but trim and very nice-looking, I mean, he looked like a nice guy, besides being good-looking, if you understand what I mean.
"So," I said, "you're a genie."
He nodded.
"And my servant."
Again he nodded.
I smiled at him, and, after a moment, he smiled back. He had nice teeth. "That could be interesting," I said. "So, what sort of tricks do you do?" Now, I realize that wasn't very polite, but I was still in a sort of shock, you must understand, and I really didn't know what to say. I wanted him to prove it, of course, and of course, I was sure he couldn't, since he couldn't, could he? I mean, a genie? Come on! But I felt awkward saying, "Prove it," so I said what I did. Which wasn't much better, if not worse, but there it is.
"Tricks, sir?"
"Well, I mean, you're a genie, you say. So, can you do tricks, magic tricks?"
He looked not offended, but puzzled, and gave that hands out shrug. "Yes, I could, if you mean parlor tricks, sir, but so can any stage magician. My abilities are of a higher order than that, I assure you, sir."
I looked at him. "Like Houdini?"
He stared at me. "Houdini, sir?"
"Yeah, you know, the escape artist. That guy who used to let himself be tied up on stage and then would always get loose." I'm not sure what put that into my mind. The "parlor trick" remark this fellow had made, I think, and then, well, I had always liked Houdini. What I mean is, I had always liked guys tied up. That was a little kink of mine, you see. Good-looking guys tied up and gagged got a rise out of me every time, and, well, like I've said, this guy was good-looking.
"This would please you, sir?"
I stared at him now. I wasn't quite sure what he meant, but I was beginning to get an idea, and the idea interested me.
"Yeah, it would." I spoke sort of nonchalantly. And then I added, feeling suddenly a bit foolish and almost rude again, "If it's no trouble."
He did his little nod again. And there, hanging in the air between us, was a coil of rope. Just ordinary white cotton rope, like a clothesline, but rope, hanging there with no hand to hold it and no one to be attached to the hand. I kind of jumped and made a little gasp. And then the rope ... well, I don't know how to say it, exactly, but the rope tied the fellow up, while I watched.
It was really weird, I have to tell you. The rope sort of uncoiled, and one end sort of stretched out and glided through the air towards the genie and went around his back. He put his hands behind himself, and more rope sort of glided behind him. I was fascinated, and stunned, and scared, and not a little turned on, all at the same time, but I wasn't so stunned I didn't get up and walk around behind the fellow. The rope was sliding around his wrists, in and out and over and around. It was weird, like I said. It moved slowly, and it kind of looked like a snake, only it was white, fortunately, and obviously rope, although what kind of rope I couldn't have told you, rope that tied guys up on command, it seemed. It made me a little queasy, there for a second, and then the being fascinated and turned on kind of took over. I watched as the rope pulled itself tight around his wrists and knotted itself off. And then it started gliding up around his torso and his upper arms, and it tied his arms just like it had his hands, sliding around and over and under and pulling tight, and then sliding around and under and over again and pulling tight again. It did that several times, and pulled itself tight, and then knotted itself, and that was the end of the rope. The fellow stood there, his arms and hands tied. They were tied good and tight, too. You could see the way the rope was pulled really tight and taut and knotted hard.
I walked slowly around in front of the man. He looked back at me, quite matter of fact.
"Like this, sir?"
I nodded, looking him up and down. I took a deep breath. "Maybe ... a gag?" He looked quizzical for a moment. "Or would that prevent your, uh, magic?"
He shook his head. "No, sir. A gag would not affect that."
I nodded. "Then ...?"
Again his little nodding bow. Between us, there were now two white handkerchiefs, neatly folded, suspended in mid air. One fell open and hung there, like a sort of banner. Then the other did the same, and the two hung against each other. The corners began to roll in toward the center, and there, still hanging in mid-air, was a large ball of soft cloth. That big wad of cloth began to glide toward the genie. He opened his mouth, and the wad stuffed itself fully between his jaws. Then there was another handkerchief, this one a big handkerchief of black silk, neatly folded, there in mid-air. It too fell open, and then it folded itself, first on the diagonal once, and then a couple of times more, to form a thick bandage. The bandage glided toward the genie and wrapped itself around his head, the thick middle over his mouth and the long ends over his cheeks and around to the back of his skull. There was a second's pause, and then the handkerchief pulled itself tight around the man's head, drawing itself through his mouth and cinching the soft gag between his jaws. The ends tied themselves into a hard knot at the base of his skull. I could see the two corners sticking out perkily from the knot behind his head.
I looked at the fellow for a moment, and he looked back. I thought I saw the beginnings of a twinkle in his eye, and I cocked one eyebrow at him and then quickly turned to look around the shop. There were a couple of big, heavy oak chairs over to one side. I went over and dragged one up to the genie. With a gesture of my hand, I invited him to sit. He glanced behind himself at the chair, and then lowered himself into it. I took him by one shoulder to help him. Then I stood back. I grinned at him.
"Do you suppose there could be more of that rope to tie you into that chair?"
A coil of rope appeared, just like before, and it snaked out to glide around his chest, coiling around him and lashing him down to the back of the chair. It wove itself between his upper arms and around the side rails of the chair as well as wrapped itself snugly around his chest, and then it pulled tight and knotted itself. The whole process was beginning to really turn me on.
I reached down to push the man's legs apart. "Now, how about some more, for your legs."
Again there was a coil of rope, and this time it glided down to wrap itself in tight coils first around one ankle, then around the other, binding the fellow's feet to either leg of the chair. More rope appeared, and this wrapped itself up and around his calves, securing them to the front legs. The ropes pulled tight and knotted themselves off as the others had done.
I looked down at the man where he sat looking up at me, tightly bound and securely gagged. An idea occurred to me, and I smiled wryly at him.
"You know, I should have thought of this before, I guess, and maybe now it's too late, but ..." I paused and then went on, "that Houdini fellow was always dressed up in a tux."
The genie, and I had begun to think he really was a genie by now, since, after all, the ropes and the handkerchiefs really had tied him up right there in front of my eyes, anyway, the genie looked up at me, and I was quite certain of the twinkle in his eye now. For a moment, then, he sort of shimmered. It's hard to explain, but it was sort of like the image of him, but only him, nothing else in the room, not even the chair he was tied to, lost focus for a few seconds, and then everything was the same. Well, almost the same, because now the genie wasn't dressed in the white pyjamas anymore. He was wearing a beautifully tailored black tuxedo, a stiff white, high collared shirt, and a black silk bowtie. He still wore a turban, but now it was of white silk. I studied him, taking in the way he looked. Then I said, not able to help myself, "Um, how about ... how about a nice silk handkerchief for your chest pocket?"
One dark eyebrow shot up and then a large handkerchief of maroon silk foularded in black and white hung in mid-air in front of us. It fell open, and sort of gathered itself as it glided down towards the genie's broad, tuxedoed chest. Then it stuffed itself into his chest pocket, arranging itself into a large, softly rounded puff.
I studied the fellow for a long moment. He looked damned sexy like that, dressed up in the fine clothes, tied up with all that rope, and gagged with the handkerchiefs. I looked down at myself, in the soiled work clothes I was in. I had been cleaning up my stock, after all. I smiled down at him, a little shyly.
"Suppose you could make me all dressed up like you?"
He raised his eyebrows a trifle, and the twinkle was clear to be seen now. I felt, I don't know what, a sort of sliding and rubbing all over me. When I looked down, I was dressed in a tuxedo to match his, and the white shirt. I could feel the bowtie just under my chin. As I stood there, realizing that I must somehow have had a shower and a comb as well, from the way I felt so squeaky clean, a big silk handkerchief of medium blue and navy blue and white paisley showed up in mid-air. Like the handkerchief now in the genie's chest pocket, this one fell open and gathered itself as it glided down to my chest pocket, where I watched and felt it stuff itself in and arrange itself into an ample puff. With a grin, I planted myself in front of the genie and spread my hands out, as if to say, "Like it?" The twinkle was definite as he nodded once but very emphatically.
I stepped up close to him and went down on my knees on the carpet, resting my hands on the arms of the chair he was bound to. I had to look up a bit now to gaze into his eyes. He looked back at me with an expression I can only describe as a mixture of what I hoped was excitement and amused indulgence. I licked my lips and then reached out to unfasten the fly of his black trousers. Putting careful fingers into the groin of his pants, I felt for and found his cock. It was stiff and hard, lying trapped in his underpants. Gently then, I freed it, and drew it out. Above me, the genie grunted into his gag.
"MMMMMUGULLMPH!!"
I looked up at him with a wicked grin.
"That gag obviously needs to be bigger," I said.
He cocked an eyebrow at me, and then the knot in the black silk handkerchief binding up his mouth loosened itself. The handkerchief slowly fell away to drape itself on his broad shoulder while the wad of the gag withdrew from his mouth. Another of the big white handkerchiefs had appeared, and it fell open and then wrapped itself around the gag. He looked down at me inquiringly. I cocked an eyebrow in return. Another handkerchief appeared, fell open, and wrapped itself around the now truly huge wad. I nodded then.
The gag glided to the genie's mouth. He opened his jaws wide, and the wad stuffed itself in.
"MMMMMUGUmmmmulummmmmmmph." What started as a loud groan was choked off into a stiffled grunt. Then the big black silk handkerchief lifted up and drew itself through the man's stuffed up mouth once more, wrapping around his head and knotting itself tightly at the base of his skull again. All the while I played gently with the genie's hard cock.
I bent close. "Another of those white handkerchiefs, please," I said softly. As I asked, it appeared beside us. It started to fall open, but I said quickly, "No!" It stopped, and I smiled at the genie. "No, thank you. Just place it over your mouth." The handkerchief glided over and flattened itself in a thick pad of soft white cloth over the man's gagged mouth. "And now another of those black silk handkerchiefs." It appeared and hung there. "Folded like the other, please." The big square of silk fell open and folded itself into a wide bandage. "Now, over your mouth." The handkerchief glided over to wrap itself around the genie's head, covering the white pad of the handkerchief and pulling into a tight seal over his mouth and knotting itself tightly behind his head.
I stoked the genie's hard cock once more.
"Mmmmmmmm. Mmmmugummmmph."
I grinned up at him. "I'm going to need another of those handkerchiefs soon." It appeared beside me, and, after a moment's hesitation--I was getting used to ropes and handkerchiefs and clothes just appearing out of nowhere, but still--I plucked it out of the air. Unfolding it, I gathered it around the fellow's stiff cock, and used it to masturbate him some more. Suddenly I had an idea. Something, I realized, that I could do with the genie's help, just the two of us, but only with his help. I looked up at him with a smile.
"Can you keep this going?" He stared at me for a moment, and then he nodded. I took my hand off the handkerchief, and the soft cloth continued to gently massage the fellow's rigid dick. I nodded, and slowly stood up. Then, quickly leaning close to him, and taking his bearded chin in my hand, I glared teasingly into his eyes. "But don't you dare cum--yet!" He nodded. Suddenly a bit uncertain, I said, "Uh, you can, can't you?" He lifted an eyebrow. "I mean, cum?" He looked up at me, both eyebrows lifted high. Evidently it was as stupid a question as I had feared. But then he nodded, vigorously. "Good," I said, "because I want you to ... but not yet." He nodded again, the twinkle back. I stood up and looked around. The mate to the chair he sat in was across the room. I brought it over and set it in front of him. Then I stood looking down at him.
"Look," I said. "This is kind of silly"--he shook his head when I said that--"and hard for me to say, but ... this is what I'd like." I paused, and he looked up at me, watching me closely, that look of amused indulgence in his warm brown eyes again. The handkerchief was slowly massaging his stiff cock, the soft cloth clinging tight and rubbing up and down. I watched it for a moment, fascinated. Then I looked back at him. "I want ropes to tie me up like you're tied. I want handkerchiefs to gag me the way you're gagged. And another, for that," and I nodded down at his groin.
As I spoke, a coil of rope appeared in the air in front of me. One end reached toward me, and I watched it as if it were a snake. It slid behind me. I put my hands back of me, crossed at the wrists, and felt the rope begin to slide around in smooth coils, binding my hands together. I caught my breath, and my cock, already stiff in my pants, stirred in response to the sensation of being bound this way. The rope pulled tight, and a couple of jerks told me it was knotting itself off. At almost the same time, I felt more rope begin to insinuate itself around my arms and then it suddenly appeared as it glided around my chest. I watched, filled with a mixture of arousal and astonishment, as more and more coils slipped themselves around and over and across my upper arms and chest, pulling themselves tight and lashing my arms to my sides.
"Muuuugummmmmmmmffffffffffff." I looked up. The genie was watching as I was bound by the ropes he had conjured up at my command. His eyes were bright, and he stirred in his own bindings, moaned into his own gag. Evidently the sight of me being bound up as he was bound excited him.
The rope around my torso knotted itself off, and I took a half step backward and sat in the chair. Instantly, more rope appeared, and set to binding me down, coiling with smooth movements around my chest, and securing me firmly into my seat. The ropes pulled snug, and knotted off, and then more appeared. Soon my legs were bound as well. I pulled at my bonds. I was, I found, very firmly trussed up, roped down expertly and efficiently to the heavy oak chair.
In front of me, handkerchiefs appeared. First one, then a second, then a third and a fourth dropped open, hung like a banner, and pressed themselves close to each other. Then the thick sheet folded inward from the corners, forming itself into a huge wad of soft cloth. The wad glided towards me, and I opened my mouth wide.
"Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmugummmmmmph!" I moaned as the big ball forced itself between my jaws. I was astonished at the feel of it, huge, soft yet firm. It stuffed itself into my mouth insistently, pushing and expanding to completely fill up my mouth from my throat to my lips. My cock ached with arousal. I felt a bit glassy-eyed from the size of that smothering gag, and I stared over at the genie, who was watching all of this. His expression was a mixture of excitement and anxiety. Between us, a big handkerchief of black silk appeared, fell open, and folded itself on the diagonal into a thick bandage. The silk handkerchief moved towards me and then wrapped itself through my jaws and around my head. I felt the thick swath of it caress my cheeks as it did so, the silk cool and smooth. Then I felt the ends cross themselves in the beginnings of a knot at the base of my skull, and the handkerchief pulled itself tight, drawing my gag yet further into my mouth and firmly securing it. I felt the ends knot themselves again, tight.
"Mmmmmmugulummmmph." Across from me, the genie moaned into his gag.
Now another white handkerchief appeared, and it glided over to press itself tightly in a thick pad over my already thoroughly stuffed mouth. It clung snugly over my lips from my nostrils to my chin. Then a second handkerchief of black silk appeared, dropped open, and folded itself into a thick bandage. It glided to my face and wrapped itself around my head, adjusting itself over my mouth, sliding its long ends over my cheeks, and pulling tight to knot itself firmly behind my head. I struggled and tried, now, to shout into my huge gag.
"Mmmmugulummmmph! Mmmmmmmmmph!" To my surprise and pleasure, I could hardly even moan, so thoroughly and tightly was I gagged. I looked over at the genie. He sat, bound and gagged as I was, watching me, still with that excited and yet anxious expression on his handsome face. I nodded at him, and he nodded back, and the anxiety seemed to ease off, and the twinkle to return. For a long moment, we sat staring at each other, two men, dressed in tuxedoes, tightly bound into heavy oak chairs, huge handkerchief gags stuffing and sealing up our mouths. Then I looked down at my groin, and back up at my companion. He raised an eyebrow, and I nodded.
As the buttons of my trousers groin spontaneously, as it were, opened, a handkerchief appeared in front of me and glided down between my legs. It seemed to wrap itself in thick, soft folds around my cock and then tugged that stiff part of me free from my fly. I sighed into my gag as the handkerchief began to gently masturbate my dick. The soft cloth clung close to my sex, rubbing firmly up and down the stiff shaft and teasing and nudging at the tender tip. The constant, insistent attention keep me close to the edge of climax but unable to quite go over. I stared across at the genie. The handkerchief at his groin was masturbating him in just the same way. We were mirror images of each other, and I reveled in the knowledge that I knew intimately just what he was experiencing and that I was experiencing it at the same time. Dressed alike, tied up alike, gagged alike, we sat opposite each other, while the handkerchiefs rubbed at our cocks.
I'm not sure how long we remained like that. I suppose it couldn't have been more than a quarter of an hour. From what he told me afterwards--I'll get to that, don't rush me--the genie couldn't have taken more than that, and maybe neither could I. It seemed to me much shorter and also much longer. I remember staring across at that fellow, and I remember all the mixture of emotions I was feeling. Arousal and the desperate need to cum were paramount among them all, I readily admit. But there was also the fascination of my situation. I had the double stimulus of both being bound and gagged myself--and I love to be bound and gagged--and of looking on as the genie opposite me struggled and moaned, bound up and gagged himself--and I love to see a handsome man bound and gagged. I watched the genie twist and strain at his ropes, and the sight of how helpless he was turned me on immensely; and then I twisted and strained myself in my own bonds, and that turned me on even more. I watched him struggle with the huge, smothering gag stuffed and tied into his mouth, and listened to the muffled grunts and moans that were all he could make through the wad of cloth packed into his mouth, and that turned me on. And I struggled with my own huge gag, an enormous gag identical to his, and heard my own muffled mumblings, and both of those things really turned me on, because the thing that turns me on most is gags. And I watched that handkerchief rub the fellow's pretty cock, and him struggle and moan, and I felt the handkerchief rubbing my own stiff cock. And it seemed too soon, but I saw the genie suddenly jerk hard against his ropes, really pull hard, and a strangled cry forced its way through his big gag, and then I watched as the cum spurted up three times in loops of thick white gism from the man's shuddering cock. Almost at the same time, my own hot cum burst from my own cock, a wave of pleasure so strong washing through me that I almost passed out, and I yelled into that thick gag, my final excitement enhanced even as it rushed up by feeling how well I was silenced. And then I was staring across at the genie, who was looking back, that twinkle still shining in his warm brown eyes, and I realized I was wondering how soon I could have him tied up and gagged up again.
And what did he tell me afterwards? After the ropes fell away from me, and I took out my own gag, and I pulled myself up, and staggered over to him, and slowly, almost reluctantly loosened his gag, and then kissed him, long and hard, on his handsome mouth? Nothing much, I guess. But he laughed first, laughed so hard I thought he might hurt himself against his ropes when I asked him if it had been good for him too, and then finally, trying, I realized, to reach up to kiss me but defeated by the ropes, he said, "Well, my master, it has been almost a hundred years since the last time." I guess that guy's uncle never cleaned his tobacco tin.
Copyright 1999, David W. Brown Complaints, compliments, brickbats, or kudos: tugger049@yahoo.com