The Assistant

Based on “Hotel Pillow V2” fave

 Carlie slid the card in the lock, still feeling the rush of adrenaline from the stage.  She always felt that, being on stage with Maestro and the other assistants.  Here they were, now, on tour, each night selling out.

 And it wasn’t any real big secret why.  Yes, the showmanship was a big part, and Maestro always kept crowds guessing, none of them able to figure out his so-called illusions.  But Carlie knew the trick.  She and the other assistants always knew.

 They knew how he could appear to take one of their heads of, in full view, dance around with it while she always smiled, even laughed, with her body dancing as well.  They knew how, with their version of the Table of Death, even though he never used a concealment, whoever was on the table always managed to seemingly vanish after the spikes fall and reappear, on top, completely unharmed.

 The assistants all knew, just like Carlie and Jean always knew how they managed the double sawing.

Maestro, although billed as an illusionist, was no illusionist.  His magic was real.  Oh, he did the showmanship, making big productions out of it, always doing stuff to keep the mystery alive.  The audience always ate it up, not really caring about how it was done much more than just getting into the groove of the show.

Then Carlie and Jean would wheel out their respective tables.  No boxes, just tables, and some pretty tight and revealing attire.  Carlie usually wore blue while Jean wore pink.  They’d dance a little before jumping up, sometimes with help from him, onto the tables, laying down and allowing Maestro to shackle their ankles and wrists, pulling them tight.

Carlie never minded that.  She had a bit of a fetish for bondage, which was what brought her to the show.  Then the saws would come out.

Carlie took a while, but she managed, in the last few months, to be able to act convincingly terrified at the large buzzsaw placed over her body, lining up with her waist.  She’d thrash, trying to get out, but, in reality, she eagerly waited.

She knew Jean had the same feelings, and she knew why too.  The saws would power up, and, guided by Maestro, they’d slowly be lowered while both girls were screaming.  Carlie always managed to be a little louder than Jean before she’d feel it, that wonderful sensation as the saw touched her waist.

They had started out with straight handsaws, both at the same time, but both of them started moaning in pure pleasure, asking for more and more.

The pleasure was still there, but Carlie’s moan was drowned out by her screaming and, as usual, her sheer ecstasy of pleasure as the saw ripped through her body and severed her spine.

Initially, Jean wondered if they should just pretend to faint at that, acting even dead, but Carlie reminded her there were children in the audience.  No need to fake it.

As the two of them thrashed, being divided, Maestro managed to wheel their halves apart, spinning them around and showing that, even with no covering, both of them were, indeed, in halves.  Then, for the real fun, he’d switch their lower halves around both sides of the saw before lifting it and letting both the girls out of their shackles.

They’d gotten to the point where it wasn’t as much of a shock, but they still acted as if having new legs was a new experience for them.  Still, she and Jean knew the routine well now.

As Carlie moved into her room, she could still feel that strangeness, that uniqueness.  The legs under her weren’t hers.  Sure, she controlled them, for now, and they were attached to her, sort of.

In a sense, she could feel Jean in the other room with her legs, feeling her getting everything ready for bed, but Carlie never exactly stuck to the plan.

She never did like the way the hotel pillows felt.  They weren’t quite right, and Jean’s butt was always so plump.

As she got ready for bed, she settled in and popped her halves apart.  Well, technically not hers.  The legs were still Jeans, but she lifted Jean’s legs up, laying them downward and settled her head on Jean’s butt, feeling nice and comfy then.

Sure, tomorrow, they’d switch halves back and she wouldn’t be able to do this.  But it was always the case that, when the parts weren’t originally hers, she could do what she wanted with them.  Jean probably knew the same thing, probably even did the same thing once in a while, but that would be settled tomorrow.

She had to smile as she read until she fell asleep.