"You do it, Amber," John said to my girlfriend. "It looks better on a busty gal." His own partner, Stacy, scowled behind his back.

"Doesn't everything?" Amber remarked as she took the waist cincher from John's hands. It was made of black leather and had hook-and-eye closures in the front, lacing in the back.

"You'll have to take your blouse off, I hope Max doesn't mind."

I didn't mind. In fact I suspected that this was just the beginning. When I took up John's offer to join in his magic act, I knew full well what I was getting myself and Amber into. I helped my girlfriend out of her blouse and into the new garment. It didn’t have any cups for her breasts, so she was left with her bra on full display. What it did have was two lengths of drawstring hanging from its sides. John instructed me and Stacy to take hold of one each and pull on the count of three.

"Ready? One... two... three!"

We pulled. Stacy gave such a yank that I thought Amber would lose her stance and fall to the ground, so I tried to counter that. Amber let out a yelp.

"Oh my god!" she exclaimed. "What's happening?"

She had good reason to wonder. The cincher had shrunk in the middle like it contained nothing at all, the leather all crumpled up in the tight squeeze of the lacing. My girlfriend's waist looked to be no wider than one or two inches - a literal wasp waist. It made you wonder how she could balance her upper body on it, especially now that her breasts had swollen several sizes up. It was as if all the flesh in her stomach had moved up into them. Her bra dug so deep in her skin that you couldn't see it anymore, only a little bit of straps on her shoulders.

"Magic, my dear," answered John. He walked up to her with a little smirk and closed his hand around her impossibly tiny waist. "How's it feel? Are you okay?"

"No," she said. "Sorry, I’m not okay. I’m feeling dizzy, and my boobs hurt like hell."

"Well, I can help with that. Close your eyes and relax."

John got behind my girlfriend and reached around to squeeze her breasts.

"Hey! What are you doing?"

"Shh. Just relax, okay?"

He began kneading in circles.

"John... stop..." said Amber. "Please, stop..."

But he didn't stop, and she didn't do much to make him stop. Her breasts were visibly deflating in John's hands, and at the same time the waist cincher was expanding back to a normal shape.

"You know, man," I said, "I think I should be the one doing that."

John didn't reply. He didn't even look at me. What he did, instead, was tilt Amber's head to his and stick his tongue in her mouth. My girlfriend gave a muffled sound of alarm but, again, made no move to disengage. With her eyes fixed in mine, she just kissed back.

I heard a chuckle to my side. It was Stacy.

"What's wrong?" she asked. "Jealous much?"

She was standing a lot closer to me than I had realized.

"Well, aren't you the mind reader."

Stacy chuckled again, then threw herself to me and wrapped her arms around my neck.

"You up for some payback?" she breathed, her lips a fraction of an inch from mine. I could see it in her eyes that she wasn’t kidding. She smelled good, too.

"Again," I said, "you read my fucking mind."

I put my arms around her waist and held her even closer, savoring the pressure of her body against mine.

"It’s easy with men," she said.

We locked lips, and she took my hands and gently guided them down to her ass. I could hear Amber moaning and John grunting, the wet rhythmic sounds of sex, all coming to me from a far-off galaxy behind my back. It didn’t matter. Stacy was shedding her clothes one after another, and so was I. It wasn’t long before we were making a rhythm of our own.