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WingZ · Site Admin Joined: 15 Aug 2008 Posts: 127

1
“And for my next trick,” Prestho announced with a grin. “I shall require two volunteers.”

A flurry of hands shot up into the air and Prestho selected a young couple sitting in the second row. The two college-age kids walked curiously towards the stage dumbfounded that of all the people in the audience, they were selected. Prestho thought that in addition to appearing dumbfounded, they looked just plain dumb.

“So we have two brave souls,” he declared. “What are your names?”

“Lynn,” answered the girl.

“Clark,” replied the guy.

“Are you two here on a date?”

Lynn and Clark blushed in embarrassment and nodded. While Prestho smiled on the outside, internally he felt like vomiting.

“Will one of you be kind enough to take my right hand?”

Lynn, bolder of the two, volunteered and grasped his hand. Prestho gave it a firm squeeze and felt how soft her flesh was. He wondered if the rest of her was just as soft.
“Now will you please grasp my other hand,” he said to Clark.

The young man’s palm was sweaty and while Prestho found that to be unsavory, it would help him greatly with his trick.

“Both of you are holding my hands firmly, correct?”

They nodded.

“So,” he said. “If I were to try and slide them out, I’d have great difficulty.”

They nodded again.

“What if I told you that I can slide my hands out without you even noticing?”

They laughed.

“On the count of three, I would like you to close your eyes,” he commanded. “One. Two…three.”

“You may now open them,” Prestho informed them.

Clark and Lynn opened their eyes and were amazed to find that Prestho had eluded their grip. Even more amazing, they found that they were holding each other’s hand instead of his. The audience erupted into applause.

“Thank you,” he said with faux modesty. “Now let’s have a round for our volunteers…”

2
Tom Prestho stood about 6 feet tall and weight approximately 180 pounds. There was nothing about his appearance to suggest that he was one of the region’s foremost illusionists. Unlike many magicians, he was not nimble nor did he have small hands. There was nothing feminine or artsy about him. The kid who was a class clown in high school and played tight end for the football team went on to study drama in college. He found it thoroughly boring, but he did manage to effectively victimize his fellow actors with prank upon prank on the set. He found himself so adept in this department that he decided he wanted to fool people for a living. Thus, the Amazing Prestho was born.

Prestho looked less then amazing as he stood in his trailer smoking a cigarette.

“Could you not do that here?” requested his assistant Valerie. She was stunning, with raven-black hair and a well-rounded frame. However, from years of working with Prestho she was also sly beyond her age.

“Who’s name is on the marquee, babe?” Prestho asked.

“Yours,” she answered with a sigh.

“That’s right.”

Valerie turned to leave as the smoke was bothering her. In fact, a lot about Prestho bothered her. She hated his arrogant manner and the way he took pleasure in making people feel stupid. She hated the way he looked at her as if she was merely window treatment for his precious show. Most of all she loathed how he took liberties with people….as if they would gladly serve his purpose no matter what. In all fairness, Prestho wasn’t the worst guy in the world to work for. She got paid well for her work (which constituted wearing many a revealing costume and smiling et naseum) and Prestho did manage to act like a gentleman sometimes.

“This is a waste of my time,” Prestho said to her as she walked away. “Do you know that Val? Nothing, I mean nothing, challenges me anymore.”

Valerie turned around, intrigued. Prestho liked to make outrageous claims, but rarely was he so overt in his display of dominance. Suddenly, an idea formed in Valerie’s mind. She was going to play a trick on him for once.

3
“I don’t know, Tom,” Valerie told him. “You haven’t exactly tried everything.”

“Well if there’s something you think I can’t do,” Prestho told her. “Then by all means lets hear it.”

“Well,” Val smiled. “I don’t know if you’re up to it so….”

“Spill it!” he demanded.

“OK,” she said. “You are locked in a straitjacket…”

“Done it.”

“Let me finish, OK?”

“Continue…”

“And you are suspended upside down.”

“Oh…is that all?”

“You have 15 minutes to escape.”

“Hmm,” Prestho said, his smile widening. “That sounds good, Val. Really good. I think I’ll use it next show.”

Valerie bit her lip. He was going to take credit for a trick she thought of. No matter though: after practicing the trick once, he’d never want to do it again.

“Don’t you want to practice it?” Valerie asked.

Prestho put out his cigarette.

“No need,” he said. “They don’t call me amazing for nothing. Practice is for amateurs and beginners.”

Valerie frowned. Things weren’t going according to plan.

“Look, Tom,” Valerie told him. “This is a new trick. It would make you look pretty bad if you were to get stuck in front of a live audience.”

“All right, Val,” he conceded. “We’ll do it your way. No need to get your panties in a tangle…or did you stop wearing them?”

She was on the edge of losing it right there. Instead of storming out, she took a deep breath.

“You know, Tom,” she said. “You’re right…. maybe a lot of this is a waste of your time…. and mine. So let’s make this practice a little more interesting.”

“How so?”

“How about a wager?”

“Don’t I pay you enough?”

“Not money, silly.”

“All right,” he said sinisterly. “I’ll name my own stakes. If I am able to escape in 15 minutes or less, I can perform any trick on you that I want. And, in the rare and highly unlikely event that I lose…”

“You have to stay in that straitjacket all day.”

“Very well,” said Prestho. “You are going to be one sorry girl by the time this day is over.”

4
Valerie and Prestho began setting up for the stunt to end all stunts. Two tripod-shaped bases were set up in the middle of the trailer. Tall steel poles were inserted into the bases and a sturdy metal bar was attached to the poles. Prestho pressed his hand against the bar and nodded in approval: he was confident it would hold his weight.

“Run along and get Lisa,” Prestho commanded. “I’m sure she’s eager to witness this. After all, I wouldn’t want her to miss my great escape.”

Lisa was Prestho’s other assistant. Onstage, she was merely Val’s voluptuous blonde counterpart. When they weren’t performing, she was Val’s well-intentioned but realistic best friend. Together, the two of them were able to bear Prestho’s childish cruelty, but if either of them had to face it alone, they would have quit long ago. Val didn’t have Lisa in mind when she formulated her plan for revenge, but as Prestho said, it wasn’t something she would want to miss.

Valerie found Lisa in the adjacent trailer that the two of them shared. She came bustling into the room with the enthusiasm of a schoolgirl reporting her first crush. Lisa eyed her curiously, and then burst out into laughter.

“What is it?” she asked at last.

Valerie clamed herself and explained the situation.

“No way!”

“You’d better believe it.”

“And he has to stay there all day?”

“Yup.”

“What if he gets out?”

“I promised I’d let him do whatever trick he wanted on me,” Valerie said, rolling her eyes. “But don’t worry….he won’t get out.”

“Um Val…”

Suddenly, a look of worry spread across Valerie’s face. The straitjacket was by no means a new trick for the likes of Tom Prestho. He had escaped it numerous times and in various situations. Suspended upside down or not, it wouldn’t prove too much of a challenge for him. Despite his behavior to the contrary, Prestho was in fact a highly skilled professional. Valerie blushed in embarrassment: she had put a plastic cone in the path of a tank.

“What trick do you think he’ll want to do?” Lisa inquired.

Valerie shrugged her shoulders. There were so many tricks that he had already pulled and that she had fallen unknowing (and unwilling) victim to. Prestho had a genuinely devious mind. His psyche was that of a watcher and a predator (if Prestho had the slightest interest in anything he learned in school, he’d have been a millionaire instead of a magician): one who had the patience to wait until just the right moment before jumping out of nowhere and sinking his serpentine fangs into the jugular of his helpless prey.

Valerie once recalled an occasion where she was walking on the street and all of the sudden, her skirt flew up: revealing her panty-clad behind to anyone in sight. She didn’t see Prestho hiding behind a parked car with a length of fishing line, but she knew she had been had nonetheless. Prestho’s stage act only amplified his diabolical nature. One of his tricks called for Valerie to be sawed in half. Since it seemed common enough, she agreed to it. Yet when she found herself tied to a table in front of a live audience with a saw buzzing loudly and threatening to split her in half and Prestho standing by with a menacing grin, consent was the furthest thing from her mind. The saw passed harmlessly under her (though it appeared to transcend her from the perspective of the audience), but not before she soaked her panties and gave Prestho something else to chide her about. All of these past incidents were either done without her agreement or involved some form of trickery. Valerie had just recently given him cart blanche on whatever trick his sick mind could devise. What would he do? What could he do? Just the thought made her cringe.

“No,” Valerie said. “We can’t let him win.”

“What’s this ‘we’?” Lisa asked. She was a loyal friend, but she knew better then to cross her boss. “It’s your bet.”

“Come on Lis,” Valerie encouraged. “This could be our only chance to get him back.”

“OK,” Lisa agreed. “But I don’t see how you’re gonna do it.”

“Oh…we’ll just need a few things…”

5
By the time Valerie returned to Prestho’s trailer, he had stripped down to his underwear. This was standard practice for him when performing the straitjacket routine: the last thing he needed was for his arms to become entangled in the clutches of his clothes, especially when he was being timed. While Prestho was muscular, Valerie personally preferred if he left his clothes on: he was hairier than a grunge musician on Rogain.

“Lisa will be coming in a minute,” Valerie informed him.

“Ah, good,” he replied. “Let’s begin, shall we?”

Valerie held out the straitjacket and Prestho placed his arms into it. Smiling in her enjoyment of taking her employer captive, Valerie walked in back of him and secured the straps. She then had Prestho lay down on the floor and slipped on a pair of ankle cuffs. The cuffs were connected via a short length of chain to the apparatus they had set up. Valerie got on one side of the apparatus and waited for Lisa to show up.

Lisa walked in a moment later with a box in her arms. Prestho didn’t seem to notice: he was quite busy admiring Val’s shapely legs. Lisa set the box down and walked over to the other side of the apparatus. There was a crank on each side that, when activated, would raise the bar to a desired height. The girls gave the cranks a few solid turns and watched as Prestho was lifted off the floor. A few more turns (not easy work for them) and he was hanging from his feet. Prestho watched in amusement as they struggled with the cranks.

“Which one of you would like to start the timer?” he inquired impatiently.

“Not so fast,” said Valerie.

“Yeah…. we’ve decided to make a few changes,” added Lisa.

“Changes?”

“Yes,” Valerie continued. “I’m sorry I underestimated you. You’d be able to get out of this in no time.”

“Damn straight,” he said in a low whisper.

“So we’re adding a few things.”

“Like what?” Prestho asked.

“Well…. first, you should be gagged,” Lisa suggested.

“I’m not going to bite my way out.”

“Yeah…. but what’s to stop you from picking up something with your mouth and using it to cut yourself free?”

“Fine. Fair enough.”

“You should also be blindfolded.”

“All right,” Prestho agreed. “But the stakes go up on both sides.”

“If you get out,” Valerie told him. “Then you get me and Lisa for a trick.”

“Agreed.”

Lisa removed several items from the box she brought in and showed them to Prestho. The first was a ball gag that once fit inside her own mouth during a gig in which she played a captive. She handed the gag to Valerie, who took it eagerly.

“Now open wide,” she couldn’t resist saying.

Prestho opened his mouth and Val slid the gag in. She quickly secured it around his head and buckled it tightly. Prestho tried to open his mouth around the gag but discovered that it gave him very little room (and doing so made his jaw ache).
The next item that Lisa pulled out of the box was a black cloth. She quickly fashioned it into a blindfold and tied it around Prestho’s head so it covered his eyes. He looked as if he were in a cocoon, but the girls weren’t taking chances. They knew he could still wiggle free.

Lastly, Lisa produced a set on bungee cords. She and Val each took one and cross them so they formed an X. They were placed over Prestho’s torso, stretched tightly and knotted at the back. A large lock was placed over the knot. Prestho grunted disapprovingly, but there was nothing he could do.

“Are you ready?” Valerie asked.

He nodded.

“Go,” said Lisa, and the two girls became infectious with laughter.

6
Prestho had a standard procedure for escaping straitjackets. It involved him dipping his shoulder and then using it to drive the fabric of the jacket as far up as it would go. He would then slide his arm back, bend it and pry his fingers through the opening by his neck. It never failed. Then again, Prestho never had to worry about the bungee cords before. The more he pressed with his shoulder, the more they flexed and the tighter the hold was on him. His fingers began searching the sleeves of the jacket for a hairpin that he sometimes left in there for emergencies, but this too did not succeed. Realizing he was trapped, Prestho struggled like mad and muttered muffled curses.

Valerie and Lisa watched him struggle with delight. They were content knowing that he wouldn’t get free and the sight of him bucking and swaying so much amused them greatly. They were tempted to end the contest right there and begin his punishment, but they stuck to the rules and waited the full 15 minutes.

Prestho had lost. It wasn’t often that he tasted defeat, but the bitterness of losing filled him throughout. He stopped struggling and waited for his assistants to let him down. They would have a good laugh at this for a while, but Prestho would get them back. He always did.

Valerie and Lisa had no intention of letting him down so soon. Instead, they got on either side of the apparatus and had a game of tetherball. Prestho was passed back and forth between the girls for a few minutes until they at last tired out. They were going to release him from his suspended state and let him watch while they ate, but were interrupted by the intrusion of a visitor into the trailer.

7
“Oh my God!” Tiffany exclaimed.

Tiffany was not one of Prestho’s assistants, though at times she longed to be. Though she was 19 years old, she was frequently mistaken for 12. It wasn’t uncommon for her to be handed children’s menus at restaurants. She barely reached 5’0” and her voice was that of a bird. She took quite a teasing for her stature (her friends back home called her Tiny), and that prompted her decision to move out on her own at age 17 and pursue a career in entertainment. She longed to get up on a stage and be somebody else for awhile (perhaps somebody who wasn’t short), but she didn’t have a whole lot going for her (couldn’t sing, couldn’t act).

One night, Prestho’s show came to town. Tiffany became enamored with the suave magician and longed to learn his trade. After the show, she approached him and asked if she could be his assistant. Prestho laughed good-naturedly (or maybe it wasn’t so good-naturedly after all) and told her he already had two assistants but she was welcome to hang around and make herself useful. Though they mocked her at first, Valerie and Lisa quickly took a liking to Tiffany and took her in as a third sister. They told her many of the tricks of the trade and revealed a few things about Prestho as well. Tiffany was surprised to find out that these two young women could possibly know so much (or that Prestho could possibly be so mischievous). For awhile, she thought she was in heaven.

Tiffany began to learn reality very quickly. She fell victim to many of the same tricks that Prestho had previously employed with the other two girls (hand in a bowl of water while sleeping, snake popping out of a can, etc…) as well as some new cruelties. He often chided her about her height and reminded her that she was, in fact, a freeloader. Tiffany would bear this down the best she could and turn to her comrades in the times she couldn’t. However, Valerie and Lisa weren’t around to protect her for the most recent incident: Tiffany accidentally knocked over Prestho’s prized ceramic plate. While she muttered profuse apologies, he was too enraged to listen. She broke down into tears and he called her a baby (among other things) and effectively banished her from his entourage.

That was shortly before the last show and Tiffany had been in a lost, depressive state every since. She came back to say goodbye but was quite shocked to find her former boss (not to mention onetime crush) hanging by his feet inside of a straitjacket.

Val and Lisa were surprised to see her, but embraced her with hugs nonetheless. They explained what had happened and were met with Tiffany’s warm (if annoying) laughter.

“We’re going to go eat,” they said. “You want to come along?”

“Um…do you mind if I stay here?” Tiffany asked.

“Go ahead,” said Val. “Take him, he’s all yours.”

“Yeah, we need somebody to watch him anyway,” said Lisa.

They waved goodbye and exited the trailer.

Tiffany watched her bound ex-boss with anxiety. One part of her felt thrilled to be in on something so naughty (and yet also so justified). Another part felt guilty and wanted to let him go. Let him go? After what he did? Tiffany sighed as she weighed the two sides. If she let him go, he might repay her with her old ‘job’ back, or he might ignore her entirely. Then again, if she left him the way he was, he was certain not to do any favors. She needed a compromise, something to show him that she was willing to be on his side, but he had to behave himself first. If only he hadn’t called her a baby…. Suddenly, Tiffany had an idea.

8
Prestho was on the edge. He overheard the conversation between his (soon to be former) assistants and the little bitch he dismissed a few days ago. He was furious with all of them, but a momentary sense of relief came over him when Lisa and Val announced that they were leaving. If it was merely he and Tiffany alone, there was a chance she would let him go. Or, maybe he could con her out of it. All it took was a stare. Besides, she wanted to be an actress and he was more than willing to demonstrate how to con people.

When he heard Tiffany leave, he started to work to get himself free. It was hopeless; he couldn’t even cheat himself out of it. The anger faded and was replaced by fear. What if they left him here? What if some psycho came in and found him like this? It would be cruel…too crueler…a lot crueler then anything he ever did. He would gladly welcome Val’s haughty laughter (or even Tiffany’s pesky chirp) over meeting that fate.

In addition to being scared, Prestho was experiencing discomfort. One of the effects of suspension was a loss of circulation. He could feel the blood drain out of him and knew it was a major concern. A less severe, but perhaps more urgent problem was that of his increasingly full bladder. He wondered how much longer he could hold it.

Prestho was envisioning his own doom when suddenly he felt a pair of hands secure his head. He then fell to the floor with a thud and the blood rushed back into him. The blindfold was removed and he found himself in Tiffany’s lap, staring into her eyes.

“Hi,” she greeted.

He was unable to offer any verbal reply as he was still gagged, so he instead let his eyes do all the talking. They widened in sorrow and lament. “Tiffany,” they seemed to say. “Look what they did to me. You have to let me out of here. Come on, be a good girl.”

Tiffany either didn’t notice or wasn’t buying it as she continued to stare with that dumb smile on her face. Prestho’s glance changed from one of compassion to one of anger. “Let me out, you stupid bitch!”

Tiffany giggled. It was almost as if she were reading his mind and doing the exact opposite.

“No, I can’t let you go,” she said. “But if you’re really good I can talk to Val and Lisa about ending your punishment early. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

Prestho nodded empathically.

“Then you’re gonna be good?”

He didn’t know what being ‘good’ constituted; he just wanted out of the straitjacket. Subtly, he nodded.

“Okey-doke,” Tiffany said and pulled down his underpants.

Prestho yelped in surprise. This was the last thing he was expecting. Then again, he should have known from how the girl looked at him that she desired his body. If he had known that, he might have had some fun messing with her emotions. Now, however, it was he who was about to be messed with. He winced in anticipation, and then found himself oddly grinning. There was a good chance that he could wind up pissing all over her in another minute or two. Wouldn’t that be grand?

Tiffany reached into the plastic bag and pulled out a jar of cream. Prestho tried to back away as she took a glob of it and spread it on her fingers. It was cold to the touch as she rubbed it all around his private area. It wasn’t long before he grew erect. He wondered what the cream was for.

Pretho’s question was answered when he noticed the small pile of pubic hair on the floor. “Bitch!” he mouthed into his gag. Tiffany must have noticed he was distraught for she grinned yet again. Prestho tried to back away, dreading whatever else the bag might have to offer.

“Aw, you said you’d be good,” Tiffany chided. Prestho glared at her hatefully. “Well I guess I can help you along a little,” she told him.

Before he could decipher what that meant, Tiffany had her top off. Her breasts were small and those of a girl rather than those of a woman, but well proportioned to her body and nicely rounded. They were tucked beneath a black bra, Prestho noticed, as she pressed her cleavage up against his face. His reaction was one of surprise, eagerness, and once again, fear.

“Just try to relax,” Tiffany told him as she rubbed up against him. Pretty soon, it was her stomach that was up against her face, and lastly her butt. She slid slowly back down his face, and Prestho changed from a state of arousal to one of contentment. He became ignorant of the fact he was locked in a straitjacket and ignorant of the pressure in his bladder. Before he could savor the bliss any longer, he felt a stream of warm piss escape him. His eyes widened in shock as Tiffany withdrew. He actually wet himself! Part of him wanted to argue that she made him do it, but Prestho’s ego knew better. Tom Prestho doesn’t get controlled by anyone.

“Looks like you had an accident,” Tiffany informed him. This was followed by another annoying giggle and a smirk cute enough to make Prestho want to rip it off her face. “Don’t worry,” she told him. “I have something that can take care of that.”

Tiffany reached into the bag yet again. Prestho heard the sound of plastic tearing and looked at her quizzically. By now he was humiliated, frightened and very drained, but his keen sense of observation did not rest. Tiffany produced an adult-sized disposable diaper and waved it in front of his face.

Prestho nearly choked on his gag. A diaper? Him? That was ridiculous. There was no way that bitch was going to…

“Lift up,” she instructed. Prestho found his legs being involuntarily raised as the thick diaper found its way under his butt. He soon realized that he could wiggle and squirm all he wanted to and it wouldn’t matter in the least: she was going to diaper him and he might as well sit still for it.

Instead of taping the diaper shut, Tiffany reached into the bag one final time and produced a container of baby powder. She sprinkled and ample amount into her hands and once again rubbed Prestho’s crotch. This time, he stayed aroused, even as she taped the diaper shut. Tiffany then took some powder and rubbed it over her own body. She had been out for two days without a shower and the powder was refreshing.

“Val and Lisa will be back soon,” Tiffany stated while putting her shirt back on. “I won’t tell them if you don’t.” She gave the front of his diaper a gentle squeeze and walked away grinning. The Amazing Prestho felt anything but amazing afterall.