My First Public Magic

ÿþMy First Public Magic



We make a striking group walking together down the aisle in the exhibitor s hall of the convention. I am dressed in black leather trousers, shoes and waistcoat. Beside me is a tall woman in a black tightly laced corset and a pale blue chiffon skirt reaching her ankles, concealing her knee-high patent leather boots. In her hand is a leash leading to the third member of our group, wearing nothing, but a pair of high-heeled shoes and the collar to which the lead was attached. No-one seems to be paying us much attention, but then this is a bondage and BDSM convention and we are actually quite conservatively dressed compared to some of the more extreme participants.



My name is Robert. I am attending this convention with my wife, Valerie; the dark haired woman in the corset and our sub, Emma; the naked short-haired blonde.



As we stroll between the stands selling clothes, equipment and other BDSM paraphernalia, I spot a stall displaying something that inspires me to perform my first magic in public, although I admit very few people saw it and I suspect even fewer noticed it.



I have been performing magic with Valerie and Emma in private for the last few years; mostly playing out scenes with the guillotine and the sawing table, but we do have a few other props.



I change course for this particular stand and with no fuss the ladies change course with me; they are both very obedient to me as the dominant, although when they are alone together Valerie will dominate Emma.



The Man on the stall seems pleased to see some potential customers; he also seems to know our roles in the group and greets me and ignoring the women, except to give Emma s petite body an appreciative glance.



 How can I help you today, Sir?  is the vendor s opening question.



 May we try your wares?  I ask in reply.



 Just ask for what you want to try I shall bring it.



 I should like to try hoods on my companions.



He gives Emma and Valerie assessing looks and, with a brief nod, bustles to a stack of boxes behind the table serving as counter and display area for several polystyrene heads covered to varying degrees with hoods in rubber, latex and lycra. He rummages, while he asks,  Any particular style you had in mind?



 I thought something that totally covered the head in rubber or latex.



He shifts his search to another part of the stack and rapidly returns with two boxes which he places on the counter and opens.  Which lady would like to go first?  This question is not addressed to either woman, but to me.



 Emma, come forward!  I instruct. She steps forward to stand facing me. The stall-holder hands me a rubber hood. I turn it over in my hand to see the workmanship and work out how to put it on. It is a red head-shaped bag with a zip at the back to allow it to be readily put on and taken off. The other feature I notice is the two short tubes inside. I look at the vendor and point with a questioning look on my face.



 They re so the subject can breathe without letting in any light,  he volunteered.



I make a small circular gesture, which Emma correctly interprets as an order to turn round. Meanwhile, I turn the hood inside out. I reach over both Emma s shoulders to position the nose pipes in her nostrils, and then fold it back to right side in. These items are one size fits all (which I doubt) or the hood-seller was an excellent judge of head size; either way, the hood meets perfectly at the back with a bit of extra width so the zip could be operated without snagging the wearer s hair. I do the zip up. Emma gives a tiny whimper, which I know means <this is not what I am used to, but I will go with it for the moment, until I decide I do not like it>



 Valerie! Position Emma over there facing this way!  I say, indicating a clear area within the exhibition stand. She complies, and then returns to me.



I gesture the turn round command and she turns to face away from me. I then put my hand out to the vendor, who knowing the way of these things, places another hood in my hand. A quick glance shows that it is different; it is the same material, but black and there is something different at the top of the zip. I turn to the man and raise an eyebrow.



 This lady has hair long enough to show at the neck of the hood, which many people find an untidy look; so this hood has provision for a ponytail.  He explained.



I nod that I understand, before placing the mask over my wife s face. I then gather long straight black hair into a ponytail and slipping it into the ring at the top of the zip. Again the hood fits perfectly and the zip does up smoothly.



With Valerie hooded, I guide her to face Emma. I adjust their positions so that they support each other, by having them hold the other s left elbow with their right hand; each left hand resting against the others right upper arm.



I return to the stall-holder and ask if he had any bigger hoods. He looks puzzled, but, because the customer is always right, proceeds to rummage among his stock and soon produces some leather hoods that are not that much larger than the head-gear already being worn by my subs.



I am disappointed, until I spot the sturdy paper carry bags he stocks for purchasers to take his wares away. I point at the bags, lying in a neatly folded pile and said,  I ll need three of those, please.  I did not mention that  those  are bags, because part of the pleasure of being a sub, is not being in control and not knowing exactly what to expect.



I open out bags carefully and stand them on the counter having shown the man that they are empty. I pick up the nearest one and take it behind Emma, and then place it over her hooded head. She flinches slightly when the rim of the bag touches her bare shoulders, but remains silent. I repeat the procedure with Valerie; she does not flinch in the slightest.



I go back behind Emma and place a hand on each upper arm, as if to steady her. She knows my touch, and stood straighter, more confident that I was in control and knew what I was doing, so no harm will come to her. I slide my hands up her arms and across the tops of her shoulder blades, from there I moved them up under the bag over her hooded head. After a little while I withdraw the hood from under the carrier. As I did this, Emma s body seems to lose balance, but her connection with Valerie steadies her. The hood remains zipped and head shaped. I briefly step away and stand the hood on the counter. I return to my station behind Emma and reach up to place my hands flat on the base of the bag, and then with a sharp downward movement crush the bag until the card reinforced base was flat across Emma s shoulders.



I see a degree of shock and wonder in the vendor s face, but he does not make a sound.



I move round until I am behind Valerie and repeat the procedure of removing the hood from under the bag. It comes out still zipped and head shaped and includes the added feature of a dark ponytail. Once I have placed the black hood on the counter, I pick up the red one and manoeuvre it under the bag perched on Valerie s shoulders.



I then take the third bag and place it on Emma s shoulders, and then remove the crushed bag. I hand the flattened bag to the man before taking the black hood with its ponytail and putting it under the newly placed bag.



I stand to the side of my ladies and lift the bags from their shoulders, which I stand back on the counter. The sight has not changed much; a nude blonde and a slightly taller woman in corset and diaphanous skirt stand supporting each other. The differences are that the hood colour atop each body has changed and the dark ponytail the hung down the back of the corseted figure is now hanging from the head of the naked one.



I go back behind Emma s body and unzip and remove the hood from her head; except the head under the hood is Valerie s. The hood-salesman looks astounded.



 What do you think of the view, Valerie?  I ask.



It takes Valerie nearly a minute to get her bearings and respond. She looks ahead seeing her clothes on the figure in front of her (Emma is a little bit smaller than Valerie, but near-enough the same size that they can swap clothes, but one s fitted clothes do not look as good on the other). She looks down see that the body below her is paler, less well-endowed and naked. She seems to be wondering whether she should be angry (for suddenly being made nude), or congratulatory (for me having evidently succeeded in moving her head to Emma s body; a feat she was aware I had been thinking about for the last few months). She decided on a third course, saying,  Damn, I look good in that outfit.



I then unzip the hood on Valerie s body and reveal Emma s head where Valerie s had previously stood. It did not seem to take Emma as long to make sense of the situation.



Without a word, Emma reaches forward and undoes the collar from the neck that connects Valerie s head to Emma s body and then fastens it around the neck under her head and hands the end of the leash to her hand. While this is happening, I notice that the skin on each neck fades from the lightly tanned colour where it was attached to Valerie to the much paler pink where it is attached to Emma.



 Wait there!  I say.



I turn to the stall-holder, who is also just recovering from what he has just witnessed.



 I ll take these, thank you.  I say, handing him the hoods that so recently adorned my two subs. I pay by credit card and arrange for them to be sent up to our suite in the convention hotel.



We spend remainder of the day with Valerie giving outfits Emma to try on Valerie s body, so she (Valerie) can see what she would look like in them. This possibly one of the most expensive clothes shopping trips I have ever witnessed.



Shortly after we return to our rooms, a bellboy delivers the hoods and I reverse the heads again.



In the bag in which the hoods were delivered was also a note saying that if we were interested in putting on a magic show for a BDSM club, he could arrange it. It is an idea that appeals.



V