Date: Thu, 22 Apr 1999 06:25:00 -0700 (PDT)
From: David Brown <tugger049@yahoo.com>
Subject: Variations on a Theme by Houdini

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