Escape Artist In Trouble


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by John Savage

The world’s best escape artist, the gorgeous Stella Walters, and her sexy companion, Tara, are back! While on vacation in the Caribbean, the two are snatched and held prisoner by an evil madman who wants to put Stella’s skills to the test. Well, multiple tests actually, each harder than the last. She is shackled, bound with ropes, made to escape from positions that would defeat any normal woman. Either naked or made to walk around in too-tight hot pants and high heels, the girls are never given a chance to escape their imprisonment on a tiny, privately owned island. Constant restraints ensure their captivity.

But, as each test becomes harder and more dangerous, Stella knows there will come a point where her cunning and skills will fail. And then what will happen to her?

Lots of bondage, thrilling, narrow escapes and suffering women… But what else do you expect from a John Savage novel?

Published: 2 / 2012              No. words: 35,400EX1t

The guards placed the high heeled shoes before them and ordered them to put them on.  Then they were marched up the stairs and off to the first test.

Not too surprisingly, it was a warm and sunny morning, a totally blue sky and not the slightest hint of breeze – yet.  Breezes are the rule rather than the exception in the Caribbean.  They were taken to a small courtyard, much like the one in which they had lunch the previous day.  Only this one did not have a table and chairs, only three wooden posts cemented into the ground with a square of bare concrete around them.  The three posts were aligned in a row, about three feet apart.  They were made to stand beside the posts.  One of the guards spoke into a small radio, and then they waited.

Zack came happily into the courtyard, smiling at the two shackled women.  “Oh, my,” he told them, “but you look good in those shorts.  You Americans call them hot pants, I believe.  Very nice.”

He snapped his fingers and a guard pushed Tara over to the end post.  With a length of rope, he bound her waist tightly to the post.  With her hands cuffed high on her back, there was no way she could reach down to the rope now holding her to the post.  He then pulled her hot pants down and off her legs, leaving her naked.

“Tara is here to give you encouragement,” he told Stella as the guard was unlocking her hands from the cuffs.  He then removed the collar, leaving her totally free – for the moment.  “I’m going to tie you to that post.  You will then have fifteen minutes to free yourself.  I assure you, for a woman of your skills, it should be easy.  However…  If, after the fifteen minutes are up, you have not totally freed yourself, one of my men here will come in and begin whipping Tara’s pretty little ass.”

He turned to the other guard and snapped his fingers again.  The guard grinned and picked up short whip from the ground.  It was only a couple feet long and made of braided black leather.  The end was thin and appeared is if it might have been stiffened.  Taking a position behind Tara, he pulled back his arm then let fly with a single stroke across her ass.

Tara yelled and jerked her leg.  A thin red line began to form on her skin, testimony to the effectiveness of the whip.  She looked back over her shoulder to glare in anger at Zack.

“See, it will not do any serious damage but it does hurt, does it not, my dear Tara?”

Tara did not answer.  The red, slightly swollen line across her cheeks answered for her.

“Very good.  Now, if you will be so kind as to sit down beside this post?”

Stella sat on the concrete next to the post at the other end of the row.  Zack knelt beside her and put out his hand.  A guard immediately placed a length of rope in it.  He began by looping the rope around Stella’s wrists behind her back.  She was a bit surprised that he was binding her wrists crossed, not palm to palm.  That was normally a milder form of bondage and, therefore, easier to work out of.  Surely he did not intend this to be at all easy.

He did not.  Taking her leg, he rotated her around and placed her legs around the post.  Then he bound her ankles together in a crossed position.  It would keep Stella in that sitting position, but was, again, a rather mild bit of bondage.  If she freed her hands, it would be easy to reach around and untie her feet.

She looked up at him with the unspoken question: was that all?

“Not quite,” he told her.  Another piece of rope was handed to him, and he looped it around her arms just above the elbows.  When he pulled the loop in, her elbows moved closer.  He did not, however, attempt to make them touch.  When they were about six inches apart, he wrapped several more loops and then cinched the ropes down by winding what was left around them.  That cinching extended from one elbow over to the other, assuring that the ropes would not loosen and fall if she managed to pull her elbows closer together.

The arrangement was snug but not overly tight.  The pulling of the elbows together made the cords around her wrists tighten, but it could have been worse, much worse.  Had he forced her elbows to touch, the cords would have been cutting deeply into her wrists.  The man seemed to know what he was doing, and she was sure he was well aware of just how difficult he was making this position.

“You have fifteen minutes.  Then your friend gets her ass whipped.  Which will, of course continue until you do free yourself.”  He squatted down next to her so that his face was close to hers.  “Of course, we both know that this isn’t much of a challenge for a women of your experience.  But do not worry, the tests will get harder.”

Then he walked out, followed by the two guards.

Stella looked around.  The two of them were alone, which surprised her.  She had expected him to stay and watch.  But, of course, it was entirely possible that they were under the watchful eye of surveillance devices hidden in the foliage.  She began exploring the ropes with her fingers.


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