The Knife Thrower’s Secret

As her stage hand swept the stage clear behind her, Chardonnay stepped forwards and pulled her sleeves up her arms, showing her hands empty, front and back. Smiling to the audience, she put her left hand on her hip. She snapped the fingers of her right hand, and between them was a 6" knife, with a sharp, long blade and a flat handle. Holding it by the tip, she quickly waved her left hand in front of the knife, and suddenly, there were two, tips touching, handles splayed. She put her left hand back on her hip and shook her right hand up and down, and then there were four knives in her fist- one between the knuckles of each finger, and her thumb.

"I could keep this up all day," the magicienne smiled, holding her right hand forward with the knives pointing up. She passed her left hand behind her right, and held both hands up, arms crossed in front of her. Her left fist was holding four knives, now, as well. She tossed those four upwards, releasing each slightly after the one before it, then caught them swiftly, but individually, by the handle with her palm as they arced gently sideways, letting them stack in her hand. Gracefully, she passed three of the knives from her right hand into the stack in her left, and held the last one up by the tip.

"Once again, I need a volunteer," Chardonnay stated, tossing the one knife up and catching it. "Let's see- whoever catches this!" On the last word, she threw the knife into the audience. Someone screamed.

Chardonnay smiled and held her hand up. The knife reappeared between her fingers. "Just kidding! I'm not crazy." She looked out and gestured with the point to someone in the third row. "But maybe you are. You, with the colorful hair. Would you like to come up and help me, miss...?"

"Maris," the young woman said as she stood. "Sure." A spotlight swivelled to highlight her, and she held up a fancy drink in a martini glass to toast the audience, grinning broadly as the light shined off the opalescent colors that tinted her shoulder-length hair. She made her way to the aisle, as the people beside her shifted in their seats to let her pass.

Chardonnay put the knife with the others in her left hand, and helped her newest volunteer onto the stage. Maris was wearing a black bolero jacket over her blue, patterned unitard. She turned and waved at the audience, and they clapped and cheered.

"That's a nice outfit, Maris- tight-fitting is a good choice for what's next. Have you ever been a knife-thrower's assistant?" Behind the two women, the stage hand wheeled a board on a stand onto the stage.

"Uh, no, but..." Maris thought for a moment. Her cheeks were slightly flushed from her drink. "I have had pointy things come, um, at me before."

"I was talking about the stage, dear, not your sex life!" Maris raised her eyebrows at the comment as the audience started laughing. She turned to the spectators and flashed a don't you dare! glare- which only made them laugh even harder.

Chardonnay clasped her volunteer's hand and lead her to the board, now lit with a spotlight. It had a many-pointed star pattern painted in red on the center. "Let's give it a trial run, Maris. Here-" The performer positioned Maris facing sideways beside the board, her right hand held, palm outward, at chest height, against the board. "Now- don't move."

Maris took another sip of her drink, then held it awkwardly at her side in her left hand, as Chardonnay stepped back ten paces, and held up one of the knives, letting it glint in the light before she threw it fast towards Maris' outstretched hand.

"Hey!" the target girl cried.
"You flinched!"
"You nearly hit my hand!"
"I was aiming between your fingers."
"I was aiming not to spill my drink!" The wet spot was spreading across Maris' hips, darkening the cloth of the unitard.

Chardonnay walked up to Maris. "Let's try this again, dear." She positioned Maris' right hand, palm up, thumb touching the board, and gently placed the base of the martini glass in her palm, then stepped back again. "Now, Maris- try not to flinch this time, or your outfit will get wetter." Maris just stared at the magicienne, as she raised two knives, one in each hand, over her head, before releasing them towards the target.

"Ah!"
"You flinched again!"
"I know!"
"But at least I didn't let you spill your drink!" The martini glass sat suspended on the board, the bowl resting on the knives on either side of the stem. The audience started to applaud at the display of precision.

"Look, this is going to be difficult unless you can stop flinching. Should I pick a different volunteer?"
Maris scowled. "No, I can do this. I'm already up here anyway. Plus I'm already invested in this." She touched the damp spot on her outfit.

Chardonnay shrugged. "Okay, I'll work with you, you work with me. Maybe if you stood against the board and closed your eyes?"

Maris walked up to the board, lifted her drink from between the knives, and finished it, then returned the glass to its rest. "May as well not waste this, just in case... And it should help me relax." She shrugged off her bolero jacket, and offered it forward in one hand. The stage hand entered from the side with a small basket, folded the jacket neatly, and placed it inside, then left the basket a few feet from the target board. Maris took a deep breath, leaned back, legs together and arms at her side, and closed her eyes.

Chardonnay raised the knife, tossed it-

*THUNK*
"Maris..."
"I know, I peeked-"
"And you flinched again."
Maris pulled the damp spot on the left side of her unitard- the side opposite the still quivering knife- away from her body. "Look, I'm sorry- this is kind of uncomfortable and I can't focus." She blinked a few times. "Oh, I know!" She removed her silver belt and slipped off her shoes, then looked out at the audience- finding the heckler who'd called out previously in the show. She grinned and winked. "Hey, you- I know you didn't get to see that last girl's boobies." She started pulling down her unitard. "Will these do instead?"

Applauds and cat calls filled the audience, until Maris stood, showing off her fit, athletic body, wearing just a dark blue thong; her outfit folded and put away in the basket. She posed, then once again leaned back against the board, ankles together, arms reaching up straight over her head, fingers curling to hold the top of the board. She breathed deep and closed her eyes as Chardonnay raised a knife.

"Okay- ready! Do me! Umm, do it-"
*THUNK*
"... I didn't peek!" The knife still quivered in the board next to her right breast, level with her nipples.
"Maris, even with your eyes closed, you still flinched!"
"Aww!"
"It's okay, I have a solution."

Maris took a step forwards as Chardonnay walked behind the board. The volunteer turned around and began to pull the knives from the board, eliciting applauds as she showed off her butt. She set the cocktail glass down by the base of the target board, and turned as Chardonnay walked around to the front again.

"Oh, you said nothing about those!" Maris pointed to the metal shackles and cuffs Chardonnay was carrying.
"Well, I don't like to spoil a suprise, dear! You're okay with these, I assume?"
"I'm familiar with them, yes-"
"Again, Maris, this is about my show, not your sex life!" The audience erupted into laughter.

Chardonnay bent down and locked Maris' ankles into the spreader bar, the stocks rigidly fixed and holding her legs securely apart. Maris shrugged and offered her wrists, which Chardonnay locked into similar stocks, a bit wider apart than her shoulders.
"Feeling secure?"
Maris only nodded, a smirk on her face.
"Good- any last words?" Chardonnay asked as she pulled out a leather hood covered with buckles and straps.

Maris' eyebrows shot up, her eyes widening. "Oh, no! I'm not letting you-"
"Look- if you can't see, and you can't hear, you can't flinch, right?"
The volunteer rolled her eyes, and looked out into the audience. "I hope you're enjoying this, Miles. Even when I'm on vacation, I can't get a break!" She turned back to Chardonnay. "I can't believe I'm letting you... Fine, go ahead, I'm ready." She looked down, lowering her heart-shaped face to make it easier for Chardonnay as the magicienne pulled the hood over her head.

Chardonnay stepped around, tucking Maris' hair inside the hood before lacing up the back, and tying it snugly. She then buckled the first strap, which looped over the knot of the lace, and held the bottom of the hood around Maris' throat. "This one keeps you from taking it off," she said as she slid the shackle of a small padlock through the loop on the buckle, and locked it in place.

The magicienne reached up and secured the second strap tightly, which ran over the top of Maris' head and under her chin, holding her mouth firmly shut. "And this one keeps you from trying to steal my show again!" The audience laughed as Chardonnay locked it in place.

The last strap was attached to the back of the hood, just above the lace, and wrapped around over Maris' ears and eyes. Chardonnay pulled it tight and locked it down. "This one holds the foam pads in place, rendering her deaf and blind. Mostly." A small eyelet in the front- the only hole in the hood- allowed the restrained woman to breathe.

"I'd ask Maris if she's comfortable, but there's really not much point now, considering she couldn't answer even if she could hear the question."

Chardonnay and her stage hand maneuvered their victim up against the target board, and bolted the leg spreader to the wood. Maris wiggled her toes, trying to get comfortable. Chardonnay lifted the wrist bar and bolted it onto the board about a foot and a half over Maris' head, leaving her elbows gently bent. The target girl wiggled her fingers and turned her head from side to side as Chardonnay stepped back.

The knife thrower held up her right hand, holding three knives, one between each of the knuckles. She threw them hard, and they sank into the wood around Maris' body- two just outside of her hips, next to the waistband on her thong, the third lodging itself deeply into the board, high between her inner thighs.

The audience applauded. "Excellent! I knew that would take care of the flinching!" Chardonnay threw the other five knives in quick succession, landing two just to the outside of her volunteer's breasts, another two over her upper arms, and the last one just above her head. "Now we can bring out the bigger knives!" The audience laughed and applauded as the stagehand brought out a bucket full of sharp, bladed objects.

Chardonnay picked two from the bucket, which resembled wide, double-edged machetes, and held them, arms crossed in front of her chest, turning to look at the audience. She smiled her wicked smile, and raised an eyebrow. "Of course, we all know the real attraction of watching a knife thrower isn't to admire her skill at avoiding a lovely lady. No- I know the knife thrower’s secret. That secret- what's keeping you on the edge of your seats- is the thrill of watching that lovely lady on the knife's edge of danger..." She turned back towards her target, strapped helpless and immobile.

"... And the secret hope that there might be blood!"

Chardonnay threw one of the big knives. It spun end over end, then, point first, sank through the flesh of the girl's right palm, lodging in the wood behind her hand and quivering. The audience gasped, as the target girl reflexively clenched her fingers, and pulled hard against her restraints with her left wrist and both legs, shaking her head back and forth frantically. A thin red line trickled down her right arm.

"I do believe in hope fulfilled, ladies and gentlemen!" Chardonnay threw the other blade, which sliced into her target's calf, even as she struggled, pinning it to the board behind her. The girl stopped struggling as much, realising she might hurt herself even worse in her hopeless attempt to escape.

A hatchet was selected from the bucket. Chardonnay tossed it hard and horizontally, spinning the handle around the heavy blade multiple times before it lodged high in her victim's thigh. Blood poured from the wound. "That's wedged in her bone, which is just as well, since it's keeping her from bleeding out of her femoral artery."

The performer pulled a heavy-looking spike from the bucket. "Are you entertained?!" She threw the implement straight and hard, and it sank deep into the girl's throat, in the hollow above her sternum and clavicle. Her head dropped, and she hung limp, her restraints keeping her from sliding down, off the target board.

Chardonnay bowed low, and, still bent over, looked up at the audience (showing off her cleavage.) "Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I've given you that spectacle, that which you knew you secretly desired. But are you happy with how, exactly, it transpired? Even now, with our victim seeming quite expired?"

The silence from the audience was deafening.

Then a familiar voice called out, "Yes, I am!" The spotlight swiveled to focus on the speaker. "I'm damn well fucking ecstatic I'm not the one strapped to that board!" Maris stood up, and waved from her seat in the third row. She ran her fingers through her opal pastel dyed hair, shaking it out, then brushed some dust off her bolero, before climbing up onto the armrests to wave both arms and accept the thunderous applauds. The left hip of her unitard was still damp.

"Ladies and gentlemen, a very big hand for my lovely volunteer, Maris!" Chardonnay called out, and the cheering became even louder. She smiled as the spotlight went out, momentarily cloaking the target board in darkness. As the lights came back up, the board was empty, save for the shackles- still bolted in place- and the knives and blades, sunk deep in the wood.