My life partner, Angie, pointed it out to me; I would have missed it, because it was in part of the paper I do not read. “What do you reckon to this?” she said as she handed the paper to me and tapped the page in the area she thought might be of interest. “You are always saying you a looking for a challenge.” I focused on the page I had been handed and quickly found the item Angie was bringing to my attention. The small ad read, ‘John Franklin challenges any aspiring escapologists to escape from the ‘Death Cage’ in under five minutes. Successful challengers will receive £1000.’ And a contact phone number. Naturally, I was intrigued, so I rang the number and left a message. That evening I received an email in response, which was odd as I had only left my name, phone number and the fact that I was interested in the ‘Death Cage’ challenge. I opened the attached documentation and discovered the nature of the challenge and the safety procedures that were being put in place. The final paragraph seemed a bit odd. It simply stated, ‘If you succeed you get £1000; if you fail you get to experience magic and what your companion has experienced throughout the challenge.’ I showed the pdf to Angie to ask what she reckoned. Her assessment was, “Handcuffs behind your back, 20 seconds, no 30 seconds, because you’ll need to release both hands; neck shackle, another twenty seconds; two sets of leg shackles, 40 seconds and the cage’s padlock another thirty seconds. I make that 2 minutes. Add that on again for being underwater makes 4 minutes; so five minutes sounds do-able. Admittedly, you can only hold your breath for 3 minutes, but they’ll be providing an air-hose, so that shouldn’t be a big deal. I reckon, if you can handle the pressure of doing this for a live audience and this John Franklin character, you should go for it.” Between us we agreed that it was worth taking this challenge to the next stage, which was emailing for further details and contracts. The next evening these details arrived, but I had spent most of the day in the tank in the summer house in the garden practicing getting out of handcuffs behind my back underwater. I had even improvised an arrangement so that it would be more like the planned arrangement for the ‘Death Cage’ The details confirmed the details of the escape and the safety arrangements and the contractual obligations on both me and the John Franklin’s people. Their obligations seemed to be to provide all the equipment required at the appointed time and place, to have all the safety arrangements in place and to provide the payment if I succeed or get me out if I fail. My obligations seemed to be to turn up at the appointed place and time (at their expense), try my best to succeed at the challenge and to bring a companion with me to see fair play. There were two things that gave me slight concern; the first was they said they would be offering more challenge on the day, for more reward; and the second was they insisted I name my companion and that they sign the contract with me. The contract made clear that the extra part to the challenge was entirely optional, I guessed this would allow them to add some element of drama into the stunt; not only would I succeed or not, but would I be up for the extra challenge? I assumed the bit about naming my companion was so that they could prepare the extra paperwork, but it turned out to be more than that. After careful consideration, we signed contracts and began negotiations about times and places. We even researched who John Franklin was; it turned out that he was a small-time magician who had landed himself a series of six half hour programs and hoped to use these as stepping stones in his magical career, but he was not being entirely selfish, because he was allocating a small amount of time on each show to a specialist performer to show their stuff. I was soon booked as the specialist performer, with Angie as my companion, for his first recording, which by this stage was six weeks away. Those six weeks were a blur; when I was not working my day job or sleeping, I was in the tank practicing with the specified hand-cuffs and padlocks. The practice was paying off, I had the handcuffs, neck-shackle and leg restraints off in under three and a half minutes and the padlock to the lid of the cage should be no trouble. The day of the challenge dawned and we travelled to the studios where the stunt was going to be recorded and got there mid-morning; the show was going to be recorded live that evening. The remainder of the morning was spent being introduced to the crew that would be supervising my escape and checking over the equipment. Then John Franklin took us out to lunch. Once the meal was ordered, he asked, “How do you envision this escape of yours going?” Naturally, I had expected some question along those lines, so I had an answer. “I’ve practiced so that I can do it in under four minutes, but as I can see the clock from inside the tank, I’ll add to the drama, by taking my time I can be out a few seconds before the five minutes is up.” “I thought you’d say something like that, which is why we added the extra challenge option to the contract. What we want is a genuine ‘Will they make it?’ situation, rather than a ‘Can they time it right?’ one.” “I, sort of, expected that was the reasoning, but if I don’t like the extra challenge aspect, I know I don’t have to accept.” “Exactly,” he confirmed. “The paperwork says that with extra challenge comes extra reward; so make your offer and we’ll consider it.” I deliberately included Angie, because she has a better idea of what I can and cannot do, especially on top of all I was already prepared for, and also because I know she worries and it makes her feel better to have her say. “Firstly, let me say you don’t have to make a decision immediately,” he began. “We’ll show you the extra equipment this afternoon and you announce what you decide at show time.” “That’s fair.” It would have been an instant ‘No!’ if I did not get to check the equipment or I was being pressed for an instant decision. “The extra challenge comes in three parts; part one is a lid on the tank, part two is your lovely companion, Angie,” he smiled at her, “shackled to the lid on the tank and part three would be withdrawal of the air hose partway through. Part one would gain you an extra thirty seconds of performance time. Part two would gain you an extra minute, because you’d need to release Angie before you could get out. And for item three we would have to work out when to remove the hose, but on the plus side, we would supply oxygen enriched air to compensate for you not being able to hyperventilate beforehand.” “So, those are the extra challenges. And the rewards?” “Well, if you accept any part of the extras we’ll pay you your original £1000 and £1000 per part you accept, plus another grand if you accept all three and we’ll double it if you succeed. So you could make as much as 10000.” “Ok, so the rewards are not insubstantial.” At this point, his mobile phone went off. He looked apologetic, but still checked it. “I’m sorry, but I’ve got to go. A friend has arrived, late as usual, and I’ve got to teach her how to act when I pass the buzzsaw through her middle.” He rose from the table and we began to rise to follow him. “No, don’t worry, you don’t need to come; I’ll make sure your meal is paid for, while I get something to take away and I’ll get someone to send a taxi to get you back to the studio. Enjoy your meal and I’m sure you have lots to discuss.” Then he caught my eye and he said, “And remember if you fail, you’ll experience magic and what your lovely companion has experienced throughout the escape.” Immediately and without a backward glance he rushed to do what he had to do and was lost from sight. I was slightly stunned, by his last remark; I certainly was not planning on failing, possibly not succeeding in time, but not failing; and reminding one of the possibility is not what one professional does to another professional. The food arrived and we ate, but it did not get the attention it probably deserved, because we were talking about the extra challenges. To my surprise, Angie seemed in favour of the lid on the tank, because the extra time it would take was less than the extra time it gave. She even seemed to be neutral about the removal of the air hose, but most resistant to being attached to the lid of the tank, which I put down to her innate shyness, rather than any concern that I might not be able to release her in order to release myself. The entire result of our talk was we would have to inspect the extra stuff before we could make a decision. At the end of the meal we left and found a taxi waiting, which got us back to the studio about the same time the crew got back from their canteen lunch. They showed us the lid for the tank, which hinged and would be held down by three padlocks, with holes in so that the padlocks could be reached. Then they showed us how the air hose withdrawal would work; there was a remote release mechanism between the actual hose and the mouthpiece which with the addition of the pumped air would produce a dramatic flurry of extra bubbles when it broke free. And finally they showed us the bars mounted on the ends of the tank that Angie could be shackled to; she would be attached to the ends of the bars away from the access holes in the tank lid, but cuffs can easily be slid along bars allowing access through the access hole for the side padlocks (hence Houdini’s remark that sometimes the challenge is keeping the restraints on until the escape starts). When we had the privacy we agreed that the lid would be a great addition and the air hose thing would be OK, as it added drama, as long as they did not do it more than two minutes before the end. Angie was most resistant to being an extra obstacle in my release; eventually she admitted she worried when I was involved in an escape and she coped by not watching and having faith in my abilities, but this would force her to confront the process of me escaping, which she knew I delayed from suspense purposes. It took me a while, but I convinced her that being more involved was the worth the extra four thousand it would gain us; I even promised her a weekend away together with part of the extra money. Once we had decided, I went to find John Franklin to relay our decision to take on the entire extra challenge. I found him talking to a very shaken-looking woman about his age (mid-twenties), who judging by her mascara had been crying a lot. I was about to convey what we had decided, when he said, “Don’t tell me, I don’t want to know until the show, but let Ben know so he can make sure the gear is ready, then get to costume and make up so that you and Angie look the part.” It took me about ten minutes to find Ben, the floor manager, and let him know what equipment would be needed. He also gave me directions on how to get to the costume department. I went back to our dressing room and we went to costume. Costume for me was simple; a swim suit in an intense blue with a couple of black lines and a fluffy white bathrobe. Costuming Angie was not anywhere near as simple; they wanted a sexy damsel-in-distress look, but Angie’s natural modesty complicated this, along with the requirement that wrists and ankles should be free of clothes so that it was clear that she was restrained and not to get in the way of my efforts to release her. In the end, she was outfitted with a white calf-length dress with a deep neckline, short sleeves and a slit up to mid-thigh, under this was a tight body-suit, which did wonders for her waist and cleavage and finally a pair of white strappy mid-height heels. She was accessorised with a necklace of what looked like pearls and matching earrings. Then it was on to make-up, where the bare minimum was done with me; foundation, eyeliner and a whole can of hair-lacquer to hold my short hair in place. Angie got the works; her fingernails and toenails were painted, fake tan was applied to all visible areas of skin, her face was made-up to match the sexy damsel-in-distress image they seemed to have in mind for Angie, much emphasis on eyes and lips and then they added more curl to her already curly hair, primarily to make sure it did not end up with it in the way. As we were leaving for a light canteen snack before the show, the head make-up lady, told Angie not to cry, because her the eye make-up would instantly turn her into a panda. The period before the show was uneventful, although I did notice some admiring glances for Angie, which I did not mention, in case it would make her reconsider her part in the stunt. At the appointed time, we were called to the wings and watched John Franklin perform the buzzsaw illusion. The woman I had seen earlier was lain on the travelling table, on top of a piece of wood that had just been sawn to show the reality of the buzzsaw, and the table travelled under the saw with the blade splitting the wood under her and appearing to pass through her bared midriff. She seemed a lot less upset than earlier, but she still eyed the rotating blade with a nervousness, which I wondered whether showed how good an actor she was or embodied a genuine uncertainty as to the outcome of having it appear to pass through her. Naturally she survived her ordeal, but seemed awed by what had happened and relieved it was over. Now it was our turn. John Franklin introduced us as people he had known for a while (which was true if five minutes in a restaurant counted). We went on and he explained the basic concept of the escape. “We suggested some additions to this escape, did you decide to go with then?” he asked. Noting that he was being vague, I paused, to give the editors a chance to ramp up the tension, before being vague right back. “Yes, we decided that we’d go with all of them, but Angie isn’t particularly happy about her part.” “Quite understandable; being an obstacle in your partner’s escape would make anyone nervous,” he commented. Then we got down to the business at hand, while John Franklin provided commentary to cover what would be, to the observer, the dull part of the procedure. First I knelt on the grid that was the base of the cage and clamps were placed over my calves and ankles held in place with padlocks, then I bent down and a collar was put round my neck and padlocked to a short chain attached to the floor of the cage. The sides of the cage were folded up and pinned in place and the top of the cage slotted into place, hinged down and the padlock put in place. The final part of me being locked into the death cage was me putting my wrists near the lid and Ben closing the handcuffs round my wrists with the chain between over the central bar of the cage’s lid, thus holding my wrists up from my back and straining my shoulders a bit. In this cramped and uncomfortable position, I was fed the air hose while two bars were attached to the cage. Four large men took an end of a bar each and lifted the entire assembly and a young lady took charge of my air supply. As soon as I was over the tank I gave a thumbs up to indicate I was ok and ready to proceed. Carefully the men lowered me into the water, while the young lady stage hand clipped the hose into position on the hinge side of the tank. The water was icy cold, which was good, because the body’s natural reaction is to restrict blood supply to the peripheral parts of the body and so preserving more oxygen for fuelling the core bodily functions, effective lowering your metabolism; the downside being that your hands go numb before too long, which is not ideal if you require them to be dexterous and sensitive. As the air began to pump with the sweet tang of added oxygen I looked up to check I could still see the clock; I could, so I made another thumbs up gesture to show I was happy to continue. The final stages of the preparations I did not see, because my view was confined to looking through the cage and the clear Plexiglas walls of the tank at the studio floor and the legs of the crew doing their jobs. First came the rush of additional cold as they poured two buckets of additional water into the tank to convince the audience I was truly submerged, this was accompanied by some muted thuds as the other two crewmen fitted and closed the tank’s lid, then the air-hose lady attached the padlocks to hold it down. More water-muffled knocks and bangs followed telling me that Angie was being shackled to the bars on top of the tank. I spent this time to remember my planned sequence of escape and generally calm my nerves, by breathing deeply to increase the oxygen in my system. A tap on the end of the tank told me that all was ready and as I wanted to get on with it I made the agreed double thumbs up to show I was ready. I glimpsed Ben’s face and then his hand holding out three fingers; the countdown had begun and I was already moving my lockpicking tool from where I had it palmed to the tips of my fingers. One of Ben’s fingers folded away, then another and finally the entire hand was taken out of my sight; the escape had begun. To aid my concentration I closed my eyes and took a moment to concentrate on the planned sequence of the escape, then I began the dramatic thrashing about; given my constrained position it was not much, but is served to cover the fact I was using the pick to release the handcuffs. Ten seconds can seem like an eternity, but it took me that long to find the key hole in my cuff, partly because Ben had put the cuffs on my wrists so that the hole I was looking for was on the wrong side. A quick check confirmed it would be easier to transfer the pick and release the other wrist first so that’s what I did. With one cuff released, I opened my eyes to check the time on the clock, while I transferred the pick back to the now uncuffed hand; forty-three seconds; where has all that time gone, I am usually out of the first cuff in about twenty five seconds. I put it down to the minor problem with the orientation of the cuff and possibly nerves, and took another deep breathe from the air hose. I closed my eyes again and tackled the other cuff. With the picking hand free it is not to long before the second hand is free. Another time check, One minute nineteen seconds; I think I must have missed something, but I still had a little over five minutes for eight padlocks and four more sets of cuffs, but now I could work with both hands and the strain between my shoulder blades had eased. I moved to start on the neck shackle, but noticed a camera through the glass of the tank and paused to give a smile, which I hoped said, ‘I am doing ok, but not as ok as I had hoped,’ and a brief thumbs up, before continuing to release myself from the bottom of the cage. I grabbed the padlock holding the neck shackle to the chain in my left hand and fitted the pick into the keyhole. A few jiggles and it was open but I bumped my elbow on the side of the tank and accidentally snapped it back shut. Rats! A little more circumspectly, I released the neck padlock again. The original plan had been to remove the collar once it was released, despite this seeming to be unnecessary, but it would fill time to make the escape seem more life and death at the end without me floating about doing nothing. I decided with the two mistakes that had already been made that it would be a waste of time, so I just skooched back a bit to get easier access to the last four padlocks holding me to the cage. While I reached for the first of these I looked at the time again. Two minutes and thirteen seconds! I knew I had lost a bit of time but that seemed a lot. Was I missing something? Was there too much added oxygen? I’d heard that an excess of added oxygen can impair your faculties, like being drunk, but surely they would not do that. ‘Concentrate!’ I told myself. I went to work on the padlocks holding my legs to floor of the cage. I soon had both my calves free and the shackles open so I could sit back even further to make it easier to reach the ankle shackles. I decided on another time check in the hope that I could calm myself a bit by seeing that I had made back some of the time I had lost. As I looked up the clock ticked over to three minutes; good, but not great, I had not lost any further time, but not gained any either. As I leaned back and worked on my ankle restraints, I closed my eyes once more. Another bump of an elbow on the side of the cage reminded me that I should be more careful to avoid needing to pick these locks twice. The first padlock fell away, so onto the second, but where was it? A feel about told me that in my thrashing about it had changed position and was jammed under my buttock. I changed position and repositioned the lock so that I could pick it. Once I had it in my grasp it fell away with a few deft movements of the pick I still had in my hand. ‘Stay calm!’ only four locks on the lids and the cuffs restraining Angie to go. Another look at the time, which I was rapidly feeling was becoming the enemy. Three minutes fifty-two seconds! ‘Surely it can’t have taken that long.’ I felt the edge of panic, so I paused to just breathe the enriched air which I knew I would be losing in another minute. I turned on my side and felt the hinge of the neck shackle catch on one of the bars of the cage; maybe not removing it had been a bad idea after all. I looked towards the audience, feeling certain that they could see me; I could not see them, or even the cameras, because it seemed my movements had splashed water through the holes in the lid and water was running down the outside of the tank. I looked up and saw that the skirt of Angie’s dress was soaked and the added weight had pulled on the rest it opening up the slit to show more leg than she would be comfortable with. ‘I bet she looks good,’ I thought. ‘Don’t get distracted!’ I admonished myself, ‘Focus!’ My hand found the padlock securing the cage shut and it was soon open and removed to join the other five padlocks on the tank floor. Another change of position and I could reach through the access hole in the lid of the tank between Angie’s ankles. Reaching through, I snagged the lock and positioned it so I could quickly have it undone once I had changed hands. As I changed hands the neck shackle once again bumped against the cage’s bars, causing a small loss of precious momentum. Nonetheless, I reached through and the lock fell open at my touch and I unhooked it and tossed it away. I took another look at the timer to find out how soon I was going to lose my air supply; I did not want to be surprised by the sudden flurry of bubbles when the air hose broke away at the agreed time of five minutes and three seconds. The clock showed four minutes and fifty-five. While I reached for the second lid padlock I counted in my head to be ready; I had reached six when I felt the change in the texture of the water and shortly after a light thump on my back as the air-hose snaked its way out of the tank. I spat out the now useless mouth piece and grimaced for the camera I knew would be watching for a reaction. I had hoped to already be releasing Angie at this point. The second padlock was soon thrown away and I was reaching for the third; the one between Angie’s restrained wrists. This was positioned and unlocked in a matter of another ten seconds. Time was getting tight. I had just over a minute to release four cuffs and get out of the tank. I considered changing the plan again; the fine print said I had to release Angie’s wrists before her ankles, so she could not get off the tank lid and open it for me before she was properly released. I was thinking about unlocking her ankles first and taking whatever penalty was due, but Angie already had slid one wrist to where I could get to it. I decided that rather than cause Angie more concern by changing the plan, I would have to proceed as planned. Angie was shaking with nerves which made the fiddly job of releasing the first cuff a little trickier, but it was soon done and another wrist presented. While I was liberating Angie’s other wrist, I saw something happening out of the corner of my eye. Between us and the cameras John Franklin and Ben were holding up a deep red cloth. Even before I had finished the cuff I was working on I had a last glimpse of the timer; it showed six minute and two seconds. Then as the cuff opened, the cloth settled over the tank; I was now in darkness. I mentally cursed John Franklin and crew for cheating as I turned inside the cage to release Angie’s ankles which I knew she would have in position for me, despite the added distraction. I reached through and instantly found the cuff on her left ankle. I began to hear, muffled by the water the beeps that indicated the last ten seconds. Then I dropped my pick; the coldness of the water had taken its toll at last. As I heard the electronic beeps countdown the final seconds of the challenge, I was groping for the dropped picking-tool. I was resigned to failing the challenge, but there would be very little to do to rescue me, just finish releasing Angie’s legs and open the lids. I would have acquitted myself well and if it had not been for several avoidable mistakes I could well have succeeded. The final beep seemed so much louder than the previous nine. I realised my head had gone swimmy for a moment. Things were different from what they were a moment ago; I was out of the water, but still under the cloth. Instinct told me that I was now on the lid of the tank and that I should get off. I rolled off onto the floor in the direction of the audience; there was a hush that seemed to ask, ‘What is going to happen now?’ I struggled from the folds of the cloth to see what was going on. And was greeted with a small cheer, which suddenly stopped as they noticed something that I had not yet. I turned and looked at the tank, expecting to see both lids open, but they were both shut. How had I got out without opening the lids? Then I noticed the lids were once again padlocked. Then the key thing I had missed hit me; inside the cage in the tank full of water was Angie, shackled exactly as I had been. “Get her out of there!” I yelled, but the crew were already rushing toward the tank, with keys and lifting bars in hand. I felt the urge to rush forward and help, but realised that I would only be in the way; I felt so helpless. Angie was desperately trying to move to release herself, but all these constrained movements contrived to do was cause her hair and skirt to float about her. As the padlocks holding the lid of the tank were released, I was hoping Angie had not breathed in any water when she unexpectedly found herself underwater. I hoped she was not drowning while I watched totally impotent to help her in any way. Much to my relief, the lid slammed open and the four men who had lowered me into that tank of cold water, began to attach the bars to the lid of the cage. At this point I suddenly wished that the lid was locked, because if it was loose the whole cage would jam in the tank and delay the time when my Angie would be able to breathe again. I took half a step toward the tank, thinking I would check, but then John Franklin took hold of me and said, “There’s nothing you can do, rely on them to do their jobs and don’t interfere.” It took a huge effort of will to take that totally correct advice. When the men had hoisted the cage from the tank, I took what I realised was the first breathe since my yell, my head seemed to have a dull ache. As the cage touched the floor, John Franklin let go of my arm and I rushed to see that Angie was alright. She was breathing heavily with her hair plastered to her face and the skirt clinging to her legs. It took the crew nearly a minute to release Angie and she stumbled into my arms; during this time I took a little time to bless the foresight of the costume department for making Angie wear the body suit under the dress or she would have been rather more exposed than she thought. The air hose lady came up with two white fluffy dressing gowns and we were bustled off stage. Once in our dressing room, I had time to consider what had occurred. While I felt my failure to escape in the allotted time was my fault, Angie ending up lock and shackled in the cage underwater was entirely down to John Franklin and his team and all the worse for not let us know it was a possible scenario. I was becoming angry, but could not think what to do about it. Eventually, getting dry and changing into our own clothes became the priority. Finally I asked Angie, “What happened?” “I don’t quite know. I saw you drop the pick in the dim light under the cloth they flung over us as the beeping from the timer started, I was about to reach forward and put it in your hand, when just before the final beep, I took a very deep breath and was suddenly in the water with my neck and shins shackled to the base of the cage. I’ve never been so frightened. At least I had the presence of mind to hold my breath until they rescued me; I never realised it was so hard.” “Me?” I said, “I’ve never felt so helpless; wanting to help you, but being totally unable to, in fact if I had got any closer I would probably have delayed them getting you out, which feels doubly helpless.” “That’s kind of how I feel, every time you are doing any remotely dangerous escape. You know, trying to help would probably worse than standing back and hoping.” “I guess that’s what Franklin meant when he said something about me feeling what you feel while I escape. And if you believe in magic that swimmy feeling in my head when it happen must have been it. I guess we were kind of warned, but very obliquely. He’d better have a good explanation or I’ll not be answerable for my actions. Make that a very, verrrry good explanation.” We sat and wondered if we could get a cup of tea, while the adrenalin subsided. About ten minutes later. John Franklin knock on the door and entered. Before he could open his mouth, I said, “This had better be good, because we are not happy and if we don’t leave happy, we’ll be suing you for breach of contract for as much as we can get.” His smile faltered for maybe half a second, while considered what line would best keep him and his reputation from being dragging through the mud. “What a performance! You certainly earned your ten grand.” For a moment, I wondered what he was talking about, so I asked aggressively. “You were marvellous,” he said. “I auditioned some professionals, but they had nothing on you. They were too smooth to make the illusion look credible. But you with the couple of fumbles made it look truly death-defying and you were incredibly fast; if we hadn’t tweaked the timer to run fifty percent faster, you’d have been out long before the time limit and the magic couldn’t have happened.” For a moment part of my brain did the maths. I had got to the point I had got to in a few seconds over four minutes even with all the extra obstacles and recovering the pick and undoing the last of Angie’s shackles would not have taken the whole of the final minute of the original challenge. I was mentally patting myself on the back, when another part of my mind reminded me that my failure to finish in the allotted time was not my beef with Mr Franklin, but the fact he had tried to drown Angie. “Now I understand why you say I earned the money, but what about what happened next? Angie was completely unprepared for her dunking, possibly near drowning.” I looked at Angie for confirmation and support; she looked sheepish instead. “I wasn’t totally unprepared, but I had been warned I would end up in the water.” “When?” I challenged. “When I rang my cousin John to congratulate him on getting his TV deal. I wished him well and expressed some disappointment that I was failing to let you know how stressful your ‘hobby’ was for me. He suggested that he could help, if I was prepared to seem in danger and arrange that you get involved. He called the illusion ‘The Drowning Pool’; it took me some time to find it, ‘coz there’s a band called the same thing that gets the top hits when I searched on YouTube, but once I understood the concept it seemed like the only way to make you see how bad it makes me feel to be helpless while you escape.” “You’re right!” I admitted, “I’ve been selfish in not considering how you feel when I do my thing. I’ll give it up, if you ask me to.” “Before today I’d have said, ‘Yes, please give up escapology.’ But having been in the spotlight and properly the centre of attention, rather than just someone who came along with you. I have some idea of the buzz you get from it. I want to join you in escaping; you can train me. I’ll probably never be as good as you, but together we could be better than anyone.” John interjected, “You are the best amateur I have ever seen.” “Do you really mean that?” I asked looking at Angie, she nodded. “You know I love you?” She nodded again; she seemed almost at the point of tears. “Angie, will you marry me?” She closed the two paces between us, said, “Of course, I will, Brenda!” and we hugged until we were out of breath.

Barry and Lucy have brought a new house at least it’s new to them even though it’s very old and neglected. “We really have taken something on here, where do we start?” “I think we need a plan, a written one, let’s have a think about what we want and between us I ’m sure we will come up with something good.” They both have very radical idea’s, so they agree to do their own plans and compare them afterwards. They both draw out what they want to do, both scrap lots of them before they come up with ideas they are happy with. ...

Ruby had just come back from the family attorney. Seems the dried up Oil Well that her late parents gave 5 years ago sprung a leak and came back to life. She now has more money than she knows what to do with, (But She will Try.) Ruby lived with her roommate from College. Michelle was a free spirit and eco-activist always traveling for her cause. This left Ruby a lot free alone time to pursue her well-kept secret of playing with self-bondage Michelle never knew or Ruby thought so, but that was about to change ...

It was the holographic dragon that did it. It had lunged forward, massive mouth open wide, and the roar was deafening inside the cave. But even as Will leapt forward, brandishing his sword to protect Deanna from the holographic beast, she had been transfixed. The sight of the gaping hole of its maw, pink and wet but vanishing into dark black depths, the wetness of its tongue, the hotness of its breath, it gave her an almost overwhelming desire to throw herself forward into its mouth and let it consume her. But she’d held herself back, and completed her night on the holodeck with Will, not letting on that she’d found the experience intensely arousing. ...

The sun was shining and the park seemed fairly crowded. In the area near the bandstand, Terry, in his usual attire of black T-shirt, jeans and trainers and followed by a cameraman, stood and watched groups of people wander by. He is holding a small black backpack. Terry, trailed by the cameraman, approaches a group consisting of three couples in their early twenties. “Good afternoon,” he greets the group, “My name is Terry; I’m a magician. We are filming some location magic stunts for a TV magic show. Would you like to take part?” ...

Doreen struggled like a fish out of water. Because she was. Well she was and she wasn’t. Her fascination with mermaids was started at seven and never quit. Growing up in near New Orleans near the gulf. Swimming was her passion. Swimming as a mermaid . More so. Now in her early twenties she had really done it to herself. Her dad died when Katrina hit. She was just ten. Mom remarried about eighteen month later. An investment banker. But his wife died of cancer so she inherited a new dad and a brother. Dick. ...

“I’m sorry. I just don’t like you that way.” Matt had heard a variation of those words a few times in his life. As many as the times he tried to approach a girl. The girl looked at him awkwardly saddened as she said those words. They always did. He wasn’t that unattractive, just chubby. But he could never seem cool around girls and most nights ended up with him on the couch, watching anime and movies, or playing video-games. “All these stuck up sluts!” Matt thought to himself. He was fed up with women. Finally, they would pay for rejecting him. ...

Mandy is completely obsessed by her pet snake, its enormous and far too big and dangerous too keep in the house, so it is kept in a special cage made out of a really strong clear plastic type material in the barn. Peter her partner won’t go near it he is too terrified, so she is the only one that looks after it. The snake only eats every week or so, but when it does she has to give it live food otherwise it won’t eat, so she has no choice and today is the day she will feed it, she has a fully grown pig for it today, so she ties its legs together and lifts it into the cage with a Telehandler/crane, its the safest way to do it . ...

It was Sunday evening, I sat on my couch watching Netflix and enjoying a frosty mug of beer. That’s when I heard a ringing from the kitchen counter. It was the cellphone I used for business, so I hopped up and answered on the double. “Jake’s Locksmithing and Security System Installation, Jake speaking.” “Hi Jake, it’s Bob.” It was my brother, who lived out in the suburbs. But why was he calling me on the work phone? ...

It was going to be the longest mile of Sally’s life yet she’d wanted to do it this way to prove devotion to her lover. A walk along a deserted beach dressed in a flowing white nightdress… …while restrained at the wrists in broad daylight! “You’ve gotta be joking!” she’d exclaimed when Judith Curran, her partner had told the girl about it earlier in the ferry queue. They’d had a marvellous time up in Orkney. Nobody seemed to care a jot at seeing two lovely girls holding hands. Possibly assuming they were sisters despite the fact Jude was six years older than Sally Marlow. Neither cared a jot what people might say and certainly they’d not been troubled while touring around. At least nobody knew about the box of bondage restraints that was sitting in the boot of Judith’s motorhome as she bounced it off the ferry at Loth, the southern most point on the island of Sanday. Both girls surprised at how many people were here as the boat was full up. A question to a ‘hunk’ in a tearoom at the Social Center and nearby school provided the answer. It was the Island’s Fair today so the Mayor was undergoing the Ice Bucket Challenge, and nearly everybody had turned up to witness this and attend the biggest event in the social calender. Also as it was a former popular singer who’d retired here then a few people wanted his autograph too. “There’s probably nobody left beyond Skeelbay ladies,” he said when Sally asked him was this all the population. The girls smiled at each other, nodded then bought another couple of food items to take north. Returning to the van, this time Sally was to be driving as she grabbed the keys off her buddy. “Guess I can trust you on roads this quiet!” Judith chuckled as they left the port behind them. It took ten minutes before they saw another car, this also heading for Loth and by the time Sally passed Northskaill the vehicle count was down to zero except a tractor. The place was indeed deserted and arriving at Whitemill Bay, an hour from the port she sighed with pleasure as the engine was switched off and the diesel rattle faded. A check of the map and they found another carpark at the far end. “That’ll be quieter even than this one. More sheltered too so I’ll go there” Sally said firing the wagon up again. A few bumpy minutes along the clifftop track they arrived back at sea level and now she knew it’d be safe here. Only the call of a few gulls broke the silence, a faint swish as waves broke across the deserted golden sand. But Sally knew this was only postponing her walk. “Right missy… time to get changed, girlie,” Judith said with a glint in her eyes and Sally Marlow grinned and nodded. Standing by the side of the van she still looked round before undressing! Her tanned skin glowing in the afternoon sunshine, blonde hair doing the same as she finished up and finally stood naked, hands almost shyly covering her midriff and breasts. Judith opened the case containing the frock then carefully handed the underwear over then the diaphanous gown last. The fact she’d made Sally change outside was just another cruel thing that would need to be avenged! Laughing at how quickly Sally got into it as the garments were whipped away in turn! Barely two minutes later she watched those burnished cheeks blushing with relief that nobody except Judith had seen her naked. The older girl reached behind Sally’s back and slooowly drew up the zip then secured it into the slot. “Thanks,” Sal murmured as they came for a kiss, Judith’s fingers stroking hips through the flimsy material. Under the sun you could clearly see her lacy bra and briefs but at least it ‘felt’ covered as she buttoned up the sleeve cuffs by her wrists. “You do look stunning wearing that honey,” Judith said and Sal blushed. This was her special dress, normally worn for their anniversary nights or birthdays, the first time it’d been used in a bondage scenario and she hoped it wouldn’t get damaged. Judith had bought it for her and given it to the lass on the celebration of their first year as a couple. “Box… now,” Judith ordered and Sally shuddered as she fetched the key from her handbag, surrendering it with another sigh as the container was positioned where it could be unpacked. Tomorrow this would be reversed when Miss Curran would take her turn in bondage again. The lock was undone and opened, the glint of steel shining as both girls looked down into it. Judith Curran smiled at her friend… and having remembered being forced yesterday to run naked round the moonlit Ring of Brodger this was payback time… “One of everything today…” she said and Sally’s heart froze as she knew this was in the rules. Whatever the ‘dom’ handed over, was to be worn, so this afternoon it appeared that she was to be bound… By a collar. By a belt. Her wrists cuffed together. Her ankles cuffed together and attached by a chain to the belt. Gagged. Veiled. ‘Well at least I’m gonna be barefoot, cannot walk in heels on sand,’ Sally thought as Judith lifted the belt out. Both girls had the same waist size and used their bondage equipement as slimming devices. If the belt seemed tight it was time to hit the gym harder! A quiet groan as Judith applied it, the click of the lock audible to both girls and they were smiling as the leg cuffs were undone. Sally felt those slid round her ankles, a finger stroking her leg as it traced northwards… but she was still smiling as they were secured. Jude putting the thin chain on the loop at the rear. Next it was the cuffs and she asked Sally did she want her bound arms free or these also connected to the belt by a snaplock. Sally grinned and nodded that yes she’d like them attached, but careful not to use one of her ten-word allowance while wearing restraints. Another of the conditions each had agreed since starting their relationship three years ago. Judith did her bidding, applied the collar and got the tiara and veils ready to adorn her head, as the penis gag would be the final piece of the bondage. Soon Sally stood trembling as Jude worked to weave the tiara into her long blonde locks. Leaving the veils up at the moment so she could apply the gag. Stepping back at the end she fetched the device from the box and returned to her bound lover. “OK sweetheart? Time to speak…if you want to.” Sally Marlow had thought and counted her words and got it right. Knowing that Judith would be impressed at her with this one. As she’d normally been a bit shy doing outdoor bondage it’d taken a while for her to get used to it. But today, with nobody except Miss Curran within miles… it’d be OK, wouldn’t it? “Judith, would you relock my wrists behind my back… please,” she said slowly. Counting each one and smiling at her partners’ surprised expression as she digested it. She too had silently totted up the number and knew Sally would not be able to say stop now. “Wow Sal. I am impressed love,” she said at last. Their fingers entwining as they had a long smooch. Breaking off Judith took the keys off Sally’s collar and unlocked her wrists again. This time an embrace followed, hands rubbing the others’ butts and the older girl could feel her lover shaking, possibly with nerves, or maybe excitement perhaps as those captivating eyes looked at her. “OK, as you wish, wrists behind you, now please,” Judith ordered and Sally froze, then slowly placed them at the small of her back. Jumping as the first was enclosed by steel, then repeated for the second and now she really was trembling. The keys were hung by a snaplock on Sal’s collar, another tease for the captive, as it’d mean she’d have to be careful. Snaplocks were designed to be safe but naturally with freedom… and one set of keys then no chances could be taken. But still she was determined to go through with this so obeyed the order to open up. Judith sliding the gag inside then buckling the straps around her head. Lastly the two veils were lowered and the outer one pinned into place both front and behind. This was enough that Sal could not turn her head or she’d rip the pins out. The inner silky layer was to flutter in the breeze against her nose to torment her. But a slightly surprised Sally saw how little vision she had. No wonder brides get escorted up the aisle! She thought as Judith closed the lid of the box. She grabbed the binoculars and checked the beach was still empty then returned. “Right sweetheart, there is no time limit and the tide is still going out. All you have to do is walk, from here to the other carpark where we were earlier, OK? I’ll be there waiting for you. I promise.” With that she led Sally onto the sand, patted her ass, pointed in the right direction then walked away leaving her lover bound and gagged… and loving the feeling of helplessness. This growing as Judith soon drove off and the gulls returned to squawking at each other rather than the van engine. Sal stood there sighing then turned to her left and began. Pacing slowly across the golden sand, her dress flicking round both legs, the clink of chain hiding the rustle of silk while the keyring jingled from the collar and Sally was smiling nervously. Already planning tomorrow’s session where Judith would be tied up naked somewhere and exposed to the elements! However Sally was still scared of being seen like this, surely there was… No. It was impossible she thought and wondered whether to bottle out. But she couldn’t lose face so a frustrated groan and carried on walking. The sand lovely and warm on her bare feet with no crabs or rocks to injure her toes. No bloody shelter either and before long Sally Marlow was heading for the cliff edge where the sand stopped. This meant if she saw someone coming the other way, it might be possible to find a cave and take cover. Trouble being it also meant Sally had to walk a lot further too. Whitemill Bay was on a curve and by hugging the cliffs rather than cutting directly across open sand it easily doubled the distance and surely Judith knew that… then realised of course she had, so that made it worse then! ‘I’m gonna make you squeal’ she muttered behind the gag… The distance seemed more than a mile and Sally mentally ’ticked off’ the craggy outcrops as she passed each in turn. No sign of the carpark yet, the sunshine now straight into her face making the veils almost opaque now and bloody hard to see through! Daydreaming she paced onwards, a real large rockfall to her right and nervously Sally headed away from the cliff and got round it then headed back into shel… and she stopped dead. There was a TENT in there barely fifty feet away! A single bloody tent and a horrified Sally saw a shadowy figure standing nearby. Though it appeared from his stance he was looking up the cliff face rather than out to sea. She dithered and was stepping backwards when she trod on a half-buried seashell… and the stumble made her fall over. She squealed in pain and despite the gag he must have heard. Sally nearly burst into tears as he came and stood over her prone body. Of course her bindings prevented any chance of running away and she lay there waiting… “What the hell…” he said trying to discerne what lay at his feet. A pretty girl all chained up… and crying now as the emotion got too much for her. He paused then lifted the struggling lass to her feet and stared into her face as she wept. Discovering to his amazement that she had something stuffed into her mouth as well! Now Wally Slimmon might be one of Scotlands leading geologists but he did have a normal if rather monastic lifestyle these days. Too much fieldwork and weeks away had led to divorce but at 46 he still cut a rakish figure. So now… no, but of course he was fascinated at what had stumbled into his camp. Sally stayed still as this guy stared at her, then flinched as his hands reached for the pins on her veil. “It’s alright missy, I’m not going to harm you. Just curious as to what you are doing here like this,” he said. A rich but oh so musical timbre in his voice and Sal was impressed. Miss Marlow worked in a theatre so was used to people with resonance in their speech and this man was the same. He freed her from the veils, lifting them carefully over to the back then reached for the gag, tapping the keys at the same time as he realised what they were for. “Oh, I see you’re one of that sort,” and now Wally was smiling as the girl blushed. “I’ve read a bit about… ladies who do self-bondage, never thought I’d see an example in real life and certainly never out here.” The gag slid out and Sally coughed and spluttered her thanks, asking for a drink if he had any spare. Wally surprised she wasn’t begging to be freed. She drank half the glass and said that was fine. “Guess I’d better explain then,” she grinned and sat down on a stool having been invited to rest her feet. The lass not minding as his hands had helped her down, both just brushing her breasts and it was his turn to glow as he apologised. “Yeah right,” she chuckled, “but you’re not the first either,” and then Sally told all. That she was in a happy lesbian relationship with Judith, though both girls were allowed ’to have some of the other’ as long as they confessed to the partner. Admitting that on at least one occasion they’d had the guy at the same time! “Really, I bet he thought all his luck had come at once!” Wally grinned and now Sally was comfortable enough to laugh as well. Pleased that he hadn’t come out with a ‘such a waste’ comment like so many others when telling someone that they ‘batted for the other side. The guy still amazed she was happy to be cuffed like this. Saying that Judith was the one who’d put her into this and that she would be waiting to free her once the walk was done. “She’ll be wondering where I am. But could you do me a favour… I’m busting for the loo…” Sally said jangling her wrists and looking pleadingly at him. Wally laughed and took the keys off her collar and went behind, unlocking Sally’s wrists and the girl groaned as she flexed both shoulders. Taking the keys back then reaching down and removing the leg restraints with the belt last. “Thanks, now where do I… go,” she asked, the guy saying that partway down the rockface was a portaloo that his team had dropped off for him two days ago. He was to be here a fortnight and “Hardly got time to walk a mile down to your car-park each time.” Such a blessing and it was a smiling Sally Marlow who returned minutes later saying what a relief and that she should have gone before starting the walk. Seeing Wally giving her the once over and she couldn’t help an extra sway, allowing her dress to ebb and flow. They had a chat about his work and though the finds here in the fall were disappointing so far he was determined to check what he could. “I get paid for working like this, you two have to spend money to come here… playing bondage games, yes?” Wally grinned, saying she was wearing a nice outfit, despite the current usage. “Yeah, does feel good,” she replied, running both hands over her hips again to tease him. The guy grinning at her starting to blush when he said, “Shame I cannot check for myself eh?” Sally did smile a little more warmly now as she relaxed, then amazed herself by saying he could! She was that thankful for him not attacking her when she’d been restrained that maybe she owed him. He paused as she stood there, the girl nodding then slowly reached for her as Sally walked forward. Those hands gently touching her waist then sliding round onto her butt and tenderly rubbing all over. She closed her eyes and puckered up to hopef… and almost swooned as their lips met. “It’s been a long while since I did anything like that,” he murmured while taking a breather moments later. She nodded and said the same. “Judith’s lovely and I couldn’t be without her, but there’s something a guy has… and I know she wouldn’t mind…” she began, then paused… “Be gentle with me… but I need… all of you… now,” she whispered. Sally’s heart was pounding as he removed her headdress then lowered the zip on her. The girl stepping elegantly out of it then coming closer to allow him to finish undressing her. The lacy bra freeing two lovely breasts then his hands went below and soon a naked girl was being led to his tent. “Sand gets everywhere and a blanket’ll be a damn sight more comfortable.” He stripped off and… wow… was all she could think of. It was a special as she’d hoped as Wally took her that afternoon. Though out of practice he made her feel special and the squeals proved it. “Not too loud or you’ll bring more rocks down,” he chuckled as she gasped and groaned away. A shriek of laughter at that and he commented that maybe she should have worn her gag. Sally grinned and once they’d finished with a sensual shared shower under the waterfall streaming from the cliff asked what the time was. Slightly concerned that she’d been here an hour! “Judith will squeal even louder,” Sally joked as she tossed over the towel used to dry her hair. Working the tiara and veils back onto her head then doing her underwear before applying the dress. Like a true gent he zipped her up, then turned Sally round for another rub and kiss. “Time to chain up I guess,” she said and did the belt and leg cuffs herself leaving the guy to do her wrists. “Feels OK?” he asked once they were secured and she blushed and nodded yes then allowed him to gag her. Once she was safely restrained he kissed her, then pinned the veils into the right place before telling Sally something… She stared at him for ages then nodded, turning away and shuffling off, being stopped and sent the right way as she’d started to head for the wrong carpark! Judith Curran was concerned as surely Sally should be in sight by now? A bright sunny afternoon and a white-clad lass… you can see miles here but the horizon was clear as she leaned over the railing to look down to the left… and finally smiled. “You little chicken…” she exclaimed, seeing her lover shuffling alongside the cliff face, dodging out of sight now and again and Jude realised what she was doing. Keeping close to cover and only exposing herself as briefly as possible. Least it explained why she’d been so long as the girl drew closer. Judith looked around and was pleased the carpark was still deserted, even the gulls had cleared off now. With Sally probably within earshot she called out, seeing her jump at first, pause then start to hurry… well with only a few inches of chain it was a fast shuffle and soon the girls were together. Jude hugging her tight and saying well done. She’d tease her later about not going straight across. A last check and she led the tired lass up to the carpark and safely into the motorhome. Sally was exhausted at her endevours and pleased to be inside. Judith unpinning the veils then reaching for… “Sal dear… where are your keys honey…?” she said at last, shocked that somehow the snaplock had failed. Then having seen Sally wasn’t concerned… the faintest of grins there… “OK Missy, what are you up to? How the… oh, better get the gag out and you’ll need a bloody good explanation young lady!” So Sally, refreshed after a drink told her lover that halfway back, she’d met a hunky geologist who waylaid her, let the lass use his toilet then given her one! Now he was waiting for the so-called friend who’d done this, to come and rescue her keys in person! Only problem being was that Judith was to walk there NAKED and bound! It was her turn to squeal “You’ve gotta be joking!” But the grin on Sally’s face meant that she wasn’t. “Yes, he’s promised that if you go tonight, as it’ll be dark in three hours anyway, then he’ll return them to you. Plus he’ll make sure you get back here safely. And Jude, he IS a bit dishy too…” Sally laughed, seeing Judith’s expression of… lust perhaps starting to emerge? ...

Compliance.- house of the future turns into a nightmare Debbie could not believe her luck. House sitting a four bedroom cottage on a acre of land surrounded by trees. A small little lake in the back along with a pool. Dr. Marcus Granger and his wife where going to vacation in Europe. The entire summer. She was a freshman at the local college and wanted to find a summer job and maybe find a roommate. It was a notice on the help wanted ads at school she found that led her to this small piece of heaven. Not having a car. They sent a ride sharing vehicle. ...

My S.O. had a Very Important Conference Call coming up. All I had heard about most of the day was, “I have that call this evening…” until I was pretty tired of it. “If you don’t stop talking about that dang conference call,” I finally threatened, “I will bug you the whole time you are on the phone, until you are totally distracted.” “Oh, please don’t do that,” she said, exasperated. ...

She couldn’t stand it. Even if someone else was getting one, she had to leave the room. The sight of the needle, the disturbing, buzzing sound, not to mention the occasional blood. And of course the pain. God, it MUST hurt. Her father always reassured her that it wasn’t “that big a deal”, but she could never comprehend how people willingly did this. Her father’s tattoo shop had blossomed throughout the years into a profitable enterprise, with more than a few sub-joints opening in nearby cities. Jennifer Saw loved her dad, despite never getting the appeal of his practice, and she was grateful for the comfortable life his tattooing business had offered her. ...

Chapter 1 - Joe’s Truck “Axel’s Auto,” Joe Axel said into the shop phone. “Hey Joe, it’s Kristal.” “Hey Sis. Are you in town?” “No. Which is why I’m calling.” “What’s the problem?” Joe asked. When Kristal called, there was usually a problem. He frowned as Kristal launched into a complicated explanation of the events that had left her friend Amanda stranded in Nashville, her luggage destroyed, and unable to obtain a rental car. ...

Continues from part two Part Three Tina sure had some wild adventures. Probably why she was always smiling when she got home. One time they were nearing a large coastal city and it was about 3 PM, if they kept going all that would happen would be them getting stuck in rush hour traffic. The load didn’t have to be delivered until 9 PM so they decided to take two and a half hours parked at a truck stop instead of the traffic. ...

Continues from part one Part Two Tina on the average was gone with him every other weekend for the next few months. Sometimes it was midweek, normally when he was running to the coast and back but not always. She bloomed, blossomed right up, was back to the happy-go-lucky person I knew and hoped for. One four-day weekend he took her to show her where he lived in South Dakota. Tina told me he had an apartment in Rapid City, comfortable enough but not too big. It was more a place to crash since most of his life was in his rig. Tina was happy to report she saw no recent traces of a feminine touch in the place. One couldn’t be sure, but so far he looked to be just what he said he was and Tina was just head-over-heels. Really bad, even for her. ...

Silent Street is one of the ancient thoroughfares in the town of Ipswich in Suffolk, England. No one knows for certain how the name came about, but one theory is that, during an outbreak of plague in 1665, the death toll amongst the residents of this street was particularly high, and thereafter the area fell ‘silent’. The story below, however, gives a more modern twist as to why the name might be apt! ...

Giga sat at their booth with her back to the door of a little Italian place near downtown. It was one of their favorite places to go and it seemed like the right place to have a nice civil discussion about things that were going on between them. Mistakes were made. By everyone. And it would take some work but they were going to get through it. They always did. ...

We always get one you know. This one stood at the back of the room looking across at me and had that distant look on her face. I meant to say that she was different from the others on the tour. But they always had the same sort of look. The place was atmospheric I agree; but you have to wonder. The tour started at the reception. The big steel door closed with a loud echoing bang. The heels of their shoes clicked and snicked as they walked on the tiled floor to the first cell block. I began my patter surveying the crowd. This one was middle-aged and very attractive, on her own, and standing at the back. ...

After a long day processing applications, I said goodbye to my coworkers and headed out into town. Having just received a bonus, I was anxious to spend it on something nice. Friends of mine from the university had raved to me all about these suits created by a company called Fembot Inc, and after a demonstration, I was eager to insert myself into one of my own. Catching a bus into town, I couldn’t help but notice how a number of patrons on the bus were in fact wearing them under their clothing. Eventually, the bus reached my stop and I hopped off, thanking the bus driver as I proceeded into town. Much like the apple store, the Fembot Inc shop couldn’t be missed. A great glass front showed off a number of sleek suits, from the traditional designs to the downright fetishistic. Grabbing the handle, I walked inside, and immediately noticed a smell of metal in the air. It was intoxicating, but before I could fully enjoy it a fembot came up to me. She wore a tight fitting cat suit over her body, and her designation was printed across the front. “Greetings, what can we do for you?” Taking a moment to gaze upon her supermodel like body, I said, “Friends of mine have encouraged me to look at these suits, and I’d like to buy one if possible?” “Excellent, right this way. By the way, my designation is Ryabot” “Crystal, pleasure to meet you” Ryabot proceeded to take me through a range of suits, and soon enough I had settled on two. One for every day, and the other for more personal pursuits. Additionally, I purchased some equipment to enhance the experience, and soon enough I had been rung out, with a promise of delivery in a week. One week later I was in the middle of doing dishes when I heard the door ring. Wiping my hands off, I opened the door to find two fembot standing there with boxes. I directed them into my bedroom and finished up doing the dishes. I had just put the last one away when they gave me a wave and headed out. Quickly, but carefully, I proceeded to my bedroom, taking off my clothing as I went so that by the time I reached my bedroom door I was completely nude. ...