Wild Magic Party - Quinn the Mermaid

The email had been a surprise, but none the less welcome for that.

Hi Quinn,
You are invited to a party evening so that the magicians that you have volunteered for may express their appreciation for the help you have given us.

The party will be held in the main hall of the Five Maples hotel from 7pm on the 6th Nov.

In accordance with a wish you expressed during the studio recording, I have arranged that The Party Hub in Five Maples mall will supply you with an appropriate costume at a discounted rate. Just tell them that you are Quinn and that Terry sent you.

I look forward to seeing you on the 6th. RSVP.

Terry.

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Quinn arrived at The Party Hub mid-afternoon on the 6th, as she had arranged, during a phone call. The plan was that she collect and get fitted into her costume and then a stylist from Topknots and Smokey Eyes would do her hair and make-up. When she had first made contact with Treasure, the owner of The Party Hub, Quinn had assumed that she would collect a costume and wear it to the party, but it seemed that this was going to be a full make-over, mostly at Terry's expense.

Treasure was a tall woman with a inexhaustible supply of Caribbean bonhomie. She greeted Quinn as she came through the door with a shout of welcome and a huge hug, once she had bustled the distance between the counter and the door.

"So, you is Quinn. Terry told me so much about you. You'se a brave young lady and no mistake."

Quinn felt a bit overwhelmed and wondered whether volunteering to help magicians could be considered brave, foolish or something else. True, she had survived being burnt alive, having a friend pulled through her body, blown up, sliced into many sections multiple times and vanished several times, but was it wise to put yourself in such situations? She concluded that while it may not be wise, it added a touch of excitement and unpredictability to her life, so it was worth the risk.

Treasure screeched, "Alphonse! Come mind the shop!" In response to an incomprehensible reply, she shouted, "I know you'se on a break. You can bring your tea with you; just don't spill it on anything. I've got a very brave young lady to prepare for the do this evening, so you get you sorry arse out here, before I come and kick it out here for you."

A tall skinny man with a The Party Hub T-shirt under a red waistcoat and greying hair partially cover by a fez, emerged from a curtain at the back clutching a steaming mug in both hands. He seemed nondescript relative to Treasure's larger than life bounciness, but would probably have stood out as someone of interest in most other circumstances.

"Come on, girl! We've got a lot of work to do to get you ready for tonight; we've got to get you into most of your costume, then wheel you next door, so Daphne can work her wonders on your hair and make you up. Then there'll be finishing touches before the cab arrives to take you to the hotel." Quinn had her hand grabbed and had to follow to remain on her feet. Alphonse had settled on the stool behind the till and was taking a sip from the mug, which bore the legend "The Boss" in contradiction of the apparent roles of him and Treasure. She commented to him in a rueful tone, "Such a brave girl."

Treasure dragged Quinn through the curtain, down a short corridor and into a small room that seemed hardly large enough to contain Treasure's extravagance. The forceful guiding hand placed Quinn on a stool facing a dirt-smudged wall with a rack on costumes against it.

"Right girl, the first thing is for you to strip, while I find the right costume. Terry says what he wanted for you, but don't say which kind exactly." Treasure turned from the rail she had been rummaging through. "Come on, girl. Get those clothes off! We can't get you into a costume for tonight if you'se still wear those rags, can we?"

Despite some rebellion at having her clothes referred to as rags, Quinn started by removing her blouse and then stood to slip off her skirt.

"Right, girl, how shy are you?" asked Treasure.

At first Quinn took this as a comment on her slowness to undress, but on the repeat of the question with a slight change of emphasis, she realised that the question was not a comment.

"Erm, I don't mind showing a bit of flesh and I've appeared on TV naked, but I did not quite know what I was letting myself in for, but it was wonderful experience." Quinn was shocked to notice that these were the first words she had spoken since she had entered the shop and fallen into Hurricane Treasure.

"So, not shy, good. Ok, we won't need these, just a tail and top of some sort to keep you decent until you get there, after that you can do what you feel. Let's check your colouring. You is going to be tricky to match properly; you brunettes always are; unless you'd like a wig."

Treasure came at Quinn holding a book of fabric swatches, while she was climbing back on the stool to remove her stockings. "No thank you," said Quinn in answer to offer of a wig.

"You're right. The only appropriate realistic wig I've got would not go with your skin tone and a metallic wig would just look tacky; And I don't want Terry thinking I done a half-arsed job for him. Daphne will just have to put in some highlights to make things go together better. This one will be best, I think. I'll go and fetch it, while you finish undressing. All the way, we can't have a pantie-line spoiling your look." The last part hinted that Treasure might be displeased if Quinn was not totally naked when she returned.

In the brief time that Treasure was out of the room, Quinn felt there was more air to breath, but still hurried to skin herself of the panties and bra that still remained. She was looking for somewhere to put her discarded clothes when Treasure returned. She dumped something on the floor and said, "I'll look after those, you can collect them tomorrow," before taking the pile from Quinn's unresisting hands. She put them on a table in the corner and then ordered Quinn to stand behind the stool facing the wall with her hands on the stool.

Treasure stood behind Quinn and adjusted her pose, which mostly consisted of putting her legs together and knees straight. Quinn felt something brush her knees then something like a waistband being fastened round the top of her hips, the actual fastening seemed to be placed at the base of her spine half an inch above her buttock cleavage. This was tight, but not uncomfortable so.

The next thing was the feeling of another belt round her knees and then the base of her shins, these were pulled tight enough the knees and ankles were forced into contact, but not painfully.

It occurred to Quinn that she had not been given any clue what her costume was to be. The unusual start to the process of getting into costume made her question this. "What is my costume going to be?"

"You're going to love it, my sweet lamb. You is going to the party as a mermaid. And if Momma Treasure has anything to do with it, you'll be the best damn mermaid any of them ever did see or are ever likely to see. So do as I say and you'll be the best mermaid there ever was."

This explained the binding of her legs, but still left open the questions, what else was Treasure going to ask her to do? and why had Terry decided that a mermaid costume was the right thing for this evening? She was distracted from this speculation, by the feeling of fabric being stretched round her bound legs, this too seemed to meet at the back.

Quinn tried to see what was happening to her legs, but in her pose her arms, breasts and the seat of the stool obscured the sight, When she tried to twist to see round, because she could not see a mirror from where she stood, Treasure gave a swat in the bottom and admonished her to stay still. "This is the trickiest part of getting the tail right; it need to be smooth and meet up right too. You want this to be the best it can be, right?"

Quinn tried to still her intense curiosity, which became more difficult when she heard the occasional sound of ripping fabric, the snip of scissors and the smells of solvents. This carried on for what seemed like a long time, during which Treasure prattled on about everything and nothing, only needing the slightest, even unintentional, signal from Quinn to carry on any of her many trains of thought.

It took Quinn by surprise when the feeling of the straps round her knees and shins vanished, without relieving the pressure that held her legs together, because the fabric her legs from hips to shins had been encased in was stretchy enough not to be uncomfortable, but strong enough to keep her from making any individual movements with either leg. The next sensation was a small piece of foam rubber being tucked between the knobs of her ankles, with the explanation from Treasure that this was to prevent them from chafing together.

"That's your tail mostly done. I'll do the rest and your fin, when you get back from Madam Daphne's, but in the meantime put this on and I'll get the chair so you can be wheeled over there."

Quinn was handed what looked like a sturdy bra to which someone had stuck a couple of scallop shells. It looked as makeshift as it could practically be without the whole thing being held together by pieces of rough string. Grateful for something to wear on the upper half, she put it in. During this process she discovered how limiting the binding of her legs had made her movement and ability to balance. She bounced round the stool to be able to lean on it while she shrugged on the bra, which fitted unexpectedly well.

Treasure entered the room preceded by a bath-chair, which she parked so as to hold the door open. "Yes, that top will do for now, but we'll need to make some adjustments. But that can wait, you're due next door to get your hair and face made right, then I collects you, gets you finished and delivered to the hotel."

Treasure came round Quinn and lifted her and carried her to the ancient looking invalid carriage. Manoeuvring out of the door took a little effort and some cooperation from Quinn, but getting through the curtain and out of the shop door were easy, facilitated by Alphonse reacting to Treasure's bellowed instructions. The few people that were around on this late Wednesday afternoon did not seem to pay any attention to Quinn or her unusual conveyance and she soon was pushed through the door into Madam Daphne's salon, where Quinn was parked facing a mirror, in front of which was a sink that obscured her view of her lower half. The only impression of her lower half she got was a brief glimpse of her reflection in a shop front, which showed her that her lower limbs tapered to her feet in something with a glitter and sheen to it.

Treasure and Daphne held a conference about what to do with Quinn's hair and face, then Daphne briefed one of her minions about what was needed for Quinn's make up, before attacking her locks with a brush, scraps of foil and the rest of her armoury.

After a time, Quinn was shown the result of the work that had been done. It took her more than the first glance to detect the changes made, and a third look to try to make sense of them. She did not get to take a fourth look, because Daphne had ushered in the make-up artist who was suddenly between her and the mirror, telling her to perform various facial contortions so that she could get her face looking exactly as she had been instructed without Quinn losing an eye or getting the handle of a brush up a nostril.

When the make-up artist had finished, Daphne was called and quickly announced herself satisfied with the job. Daphne wheeled the bath-chair around, so that Treasure could assess the result. Treasure congratulated Daphne on performing a miracle, then took command of the chair and wheeled Quinn back to The Party Hub, where Alphonse facilitated her being wheeled to the back room.

"Now to get the rest of you finished off, now that your head and face are done."

"What else can there be to do?" Quinn asked.

"Well, let's see." Treasure eyed Quinn with what she felt was a critical eye. "The first and most obvious ones are to do something with that shell-bra to make it look more like shells as a bra rather than a bra with shells on, and to fit you with a fin, because the only mermaid ever to have feet was the little mermaid and she regretted it. Then there's blending the pattern of your tail up your body a bit so that it doesn't look like an over-tight skirt. And finally, if there's time I might get to enhance your abdominal muscles so it looks like you has spent most of your life swimming. So let's get you out of that contraption and back on the stool, because we've got a lot of work to do and not much time left to do it in."

Treasure lifted Quinn from the bath-chair and propped her against the stool. She started by making adjustments to the bra, most of which seemed to make it tighter and more uncomfortable, until the final tug, when the tightness disappeared as if the bra had vanished altogether. Quinn glanced down to be sure that she still had something on her chest; she could not detect the bra, but her breasts seemed to be cupped in the shells that had been there all along.

The next task seemed to involve Treasure applying paints to the skin from Quinn's waist down to the top of the fabric of the tail. This process mostly involved Treasure tickling Quinn, then complaining when she moved. Once the trial by paint-brush tickling was done, The woman checked her watch and declared that there was not time to enhance Quinn's abdominals for which Quinn was secretly thankful.

Quinn was lifted back into the bath chair and told to point her toes. When she complied a tail piece was jammed onto her feet and smoothed so that Quinn could not see the join.

"Right, that's you done and you is ready to go." Treasure stated with some finality. "Any questions, before I get you where the Taxi will pick you up?"

"Two, I think. What do I look like? And how do I go to the bathroom in this?"

"Well, if what Terry plans to do with you does not scare the living piss out of you, you'll be alright until you get home when you can just peel the tail down from the waist. Don't try that before you get home, because you'll never get it back on again."

"Ok." said Quinn, not entirely sure that it was ok. "Any chance I can see what I look like?"

"I'll take a photo for you on your phone." The woman collected Quinn's handbag from among her clothes and handed it to Quinn with the suggestion that had the force of a royal decree that she stow it in the pouch in the front of her seat. She held out her hand to accept the phone, once Quinn had dug it out of her bag and unlocked it. A few swipes of the phone's face resulted in a camera click noise, then the device was handed back.

Treasure bellowed for Alphonse to come and help extract the bath-chair from the shop and take it to the taxi rank where a minibus with a tail-lift was waiting. Treasure and Alphonse wished her a good time at the party and said they looked forward to seeing her the following day and hearing all about it.

Quinn had the duration of the journey to the hotel to look at the picture Treasure had taken and used it all. She could not quite believe the transformation they had achieved.

While the image on the phone was definitely her, the Quinn in the image could not be anything else but a real mermaid. The subtle changes to the tints and shades of her brown hair, tied in with the pale brown of the shell bra, that she could not detect any means of support for, and the colours of the scales on her muscular tail. She could not see where the paint on her lower belly stopped and the constraining fabric that gripped her legs began. Treasure's stated aim had been to turn Quinn into as perfect a mermaid as anyone would ever see; Quinn's opinion was that she had succeeded.

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Quinn's arrival at the Five Maples hotel did not give her the opportunity to make the grand entrance that she would have preferred, instead she was passed into the charge of a doorman at a side entrance of the hotel. The route to the hall where the party was being held seemed to include some dingy corridors that had not seen a paintbrush in too many years. She did not get the chance to enter the hall with any fanfare, she was wheeled in through a nondescript door in the corner, where Terry spotted her and came over the relieve the doorman of caring for a mermaid.

"Wow! You look spectacular! Treasure has outdone herself. I knew she would make something wonderful."

Quinn felt as if her costume was being praise and not her. But she did not get time to complain, because Terry took up the pushing handle of the bath-chair and began to trundle her towards the middle of the room. "Let's get you to a table so you can have some food and a drink before I grant your wish."

With Terry saying that he would be granting her wish and Treasure telling her, and anyone else who even gave the semblance of listening, that she was 'such a brave girl', Quinn was beginning to worry that whatever it was might be a bite more than she could chew. This and the knowledge that there would be no toilet breaks until she got home, was putting her off the idea of food, but a good stiff drink seemed to be what the doctor ordered; to cure the dryness in her mouth and drown the butterflies that her stomach was playing host to.

Terry parked Quinn at the table in the front and middle nearest the stage area, where something large and cuboid was standing covered in a cloth. He waved down a passing waitress to take Quinn's order, before continuing to meet and greet other guests.

The waitress said, "May I take your order?"

Quinn recognised the voice looked up and reeled with surprise. The waitress was her friend Ann, possibly the last person she would expect see at a magician's event, being  highly wary of magicians at best and almost phobic at worst. The next shock came as she took in what Ann was not wearing; she was standing there in a dress made entirely of bodypaint, so were the other waitresses at a second glance; this was a surprise, because Ann seemed averse to showing her body, despite it being a good body.

Ann looked thunderstruck too, "You're not going to tell anyone you saw me like this are you?"

"Who would I tell? It's not like Lisa can't see you from over there and I don't think anyone else we know would believe me if I tried to tell them. So how did they get you to do it?"

"I don't know. There was a bang and a flash and the three of us were painted instead of clothed. But the bizarre truth is that somehow it feels less exposing than the original dresses and I don't have to worry about catching it on anything. I just hope that nothing happens to wash it off before I get home."

"Good for you. I hope they are paying you enough. I'll have a very large gin and tonic, heavy on the gin and light on the tonic. Have a good evening."

A few minutes later another waitress delivered the drink. She did a double take. "You're her aren't you?"

"Who?"

"The one that got burnt alive on the Late Night Sexy Show. You inspired me to write in and see if they would let me volunteer to be involved; now it's my other job."

"Yes, that's me. You're the one they took as a second assistant, the one that always seems to end up bodypainted."

"Yep, although there was the one where I got covered in lube, whatever it is it seems to end up messy."

"I'd have thought that you would have been here as a guest, not a waitress."

"Between you and me, I'm hoping to get the chance to be in some magic or other, but I must say the money will come in handy." Hannah spotted somebody in need of her services and bustled off, wishing Quinn a 'lovely evening' and complimenting her on her costume as she rushed away.

Quinn spent the next half hour sipping her drink and nibbling on a breadstick, while a succession of people came to say hello and complimented her on her impressive costume.

It seemed that most of the guests had ordered meals and were tucking in, by the time an old gentleman in a dinner jacket appeared in stage, in a literal puff of smoke and greeted everyone. He droned on for several minutes about how a lot of magicians relied on the presence of people willing to volunteer and thanked the guests who had been volunteers over the past few years. He then expressed appreciation for the hard-working, talented and long-suffering assistants that kept a show moving and on the road. He even said a few good words about the backstage helpers, who not in the limelight, made the shows possible.

"In a move you might expect, to keep you entertained (and also likely to keep me from overstaying my welcome on this stage) some of our members will be performing acts that you are unlikely to see on any other stage ever. So without further ado, please show your appreciation for one our younger members, Terry, who will be using that huge thing there and an audience member."

The man stepped off the stage and took up an empty seat at Quinn's table, giving her a smile and a wink.

Terry walked onto the stage pushing something resembling a hospital trolley to the centre of the stage, directly in front of the covered cuboid.

"Thank you," he said in response to the applause. "The first thing I need is two gentlemen to help prepare my volunteer." After some toing and froing two men were selected, giving their names as Mike and Martin. "Your first task is to bring my main volunteer up onto the stage; that is the mermaid at that table. And the rest of you can show your appreciation of my courageous volunteer, Quinn."

The amount of appreciation shown Quinn was lost on her, because she was involved in the logistics of being scooped out of the bath-chair and carried onto the stage and placed on the trolley's black vinyl padded surface; thankfully, Mike was well built and looked the part in a pirate costume, he took her upper body in a firm grip, while Martin took her legs; he was not particularly strong, despite the appearance of muscles build into his generic superhero costume, Quinn felt it would only take a flex on her legs to get him to drop her, so she stayed still.

"Quinn, a little bird tells me that you don't remember volunteering, even with the clues that you've been given."

"What clues? Other than saying I requested this, in the email you sent to invite me, and this costume, there were no clues."

"Why don't we start the preparations and if you still can't remember requesting an illusion, I'll show you and everyone else the video evidence."

"If when I am reminded, I decide that I don't want to do it, can I chicken out?"

"Of course, just so long as you can persuade someone to take your place."

"So, that's a 'No!'"

"Whether it's a 'No' or not depends on whether you powers of persuasion are higher than your ambition as a magician's volunteer."

"A 'No', then."

"If you wish. Ok, lets get you set up for the trick. Gents, would you please help Quinn sit up."

With Quinn's torso upright, Terry asked Mike to place a thick leather belt around her waist, while he handed a pair of handcuffs to Martin to inspect.

Martin queried the plastic on the insides of the wristlets and got told that this was to prevent Quinn from damaging her wrists should she feel the need to struggle.

"Is that belt sufficiently tight, Mike?"

"It's not coming off unless it is unbuckled," Mike confirmed.

"Good, we don't want it so tight that Quinn can't breath. Now Martin, handcuff Quinn's wrists behind her back, then Mike can attached the chain between her wrists to the back of the belt with this self-locking cable tie." as the task was accomplished, Terry encouraged his helpers to make sure that their part of the job was as tight as possible.

"Does that feel well secured, Quinn?"

"I don't think I'll could get out of these without the keys or some magical help."

"Some people will say, because there are always sceptics, that you could slide you hands round the belt to undo the buckle. Do you think you could do that?"

"Getting my handcuffed hands round to the front? You've got to be kidding. I know a few very flexible people who would struggle with that challenge and I'm not quite that flexible. Besides, what good would that do me? My hands would still be cuffed. And Mike seems to have tightened that zip-tie thing so that it'll take more strength than I can apply to move it along the belt in the first place."

"So, to all intents and purposes, your hands are out of commission. Now lets move onto your legs."

"I can barely move my legs, as it is, in this costume. I don't think there is much you can do to immobilise me further."

"We'll be using this." The magician made a grunt and lifted a piece of timber 3 feet square and a couple of inches thick. One edge had a hinge that would allow it to open up across the middle of the hole in the centre; the opposite edge had a hasp to hold it shut. He stood it on an edge then unfastened the hasp and opened the top.

"Ok, lads, help Quinn to move her shins into the hole in this stock, then we can lock her in."

While Martin and Mike helped Quinn to shift forward and rest her ankles through the hole in the stock, Terry was calling down some cables with catches on, two of which he attached to eye-bolts embedded into the outside corners of the lower part of the stock. With Quinn's shins in place, Terry closed upper part of the stock, refitted the hasp and added a padlock. A couple of rapid moves later the remaining two cables from above the stage were attached to the eye-bolts at the top corners of the stock.

Terry made a winding motion with his hand and the cables began to retract towards the area above the stage. Terry and Mike controlled the heavy stock while Martin helped Quinn adapt to her new position by sliding her along the smooth surface of the trolley, until Quinn was in an 'L' shape with the back lying on her arms flat on the trolley and her legs straight in the air held up by the cable suspended stock.

"Quinn, have you remembered which illusion you requested?"

"Of course not."

"Does this give you another clue?" asked Terry as he pulled the cover from the cuboid.

Quinn, and everyone else, stared at the cubic tank of water, seven feet in each direction with a three foot square hole in the top.

"What the hell is that?" asked Quinn.

"That is what you'll be escaping from."

"You mean like the Houdini Water Torture escape?"

"Yes," Terry confirmed.

"When did I volunteer to do the Water torture escape?"

"During the studio recording that you attended a little while back."

"I don't remember that," Quinn protested.

That's why I've got this." Terry pulled out a mobile phone and hit play on the video that was paused there.

Quinn saw herself standing next to Terry on the studio floor with Lisa on the other side of him.

The Terry on screen asked the two volunteers, "So, you'd like to volunteer for an illusion?" with them both responding "We'd loved to," in near synchrony.

The recording continued with Terry asking,"And what illusions would you like to volunteer for?" and the first reply, clearly in Quinn's voice was, "I'd love to do the Houdini water torture cell escape,"

Terry hit pause and tucked the phone back into his pocket.

"Oh God. I really did volunteer for this. Me and my big mouth. Does anybody want to do this for me?"

Quinn thought she saw both Mike and Martin glance in particular directions to the audience in the hall. Mike's gaze landed on his girlfriend, Judy, and was returned with a shake of the head. Quinn was less sure, but thought Martin had sought out Ann, but it was difficult to tell, because she seemed to making a hurried exit.

Terry let the question hang in the air for a few more seconds, then declared that she was not going to be rescued.

"Before we hoist you into the air and drop you into the tank, Quinn, do you have any questions?"

For a moment the only question that her brain wanted an answer to was, how do I get myself into this sort of trouble? After a couple of deep breaths to calm herself, she asked, "Why is the tank so large? Aren't they usually phone box size?"

"Two reasons. The first is to give you some elbow room, because you aren't used to escapology. And secondly, several of my colleagues have nearly not made it, because they banged their heads again the walls of the cabinet; we don't want that happening to you."

"I guess that makes as much sense as magic ever does. Another question; how do I stop from drowning?"

"A reasonable question. But don't worry about it. You concentrate on escaping as quickly as you can and I'll make sure that you don't drown. The good news is that we'll even drop the keys to the padlocks and your handcuffs into the tank with you."

Quinn said, "Thank you," despite thinking, big deal! how is that going to help? while I'm dangling by my ankles with my hands pinioned to my back.

"Good. Now to get you in place." Terry made a winding signal.

Quinn was lifted from the trolley by her shins and instinctively flattened her feet and the connected fin across the top of the stock. Between them Terry and Mike guided Quinn's body until she was hanging upside down, while Martin pushed the trolley away and with instructions to fetch the ladders from the backstage area.

With care to check that Quinn was properly held up by the stock round her shins the two men released Quinn who swung slightly until Terry put a hand on her back to stop it.

"I hope you aren't afraid of heights, because you're going up."

Quinn could do little more than look down and watch the floor of the stage recede. When her head was nine feet up the upward movement stopped and she swayed there for a second or two, before being moved backwards from the edge of the stage. It seemed a minor relief when she was over the lid of the tank, because if she should fall, it was a lot less far to fall. The horizontal movement stop with the stock directly over the square hole in the tank's cover. And there she hung waiting for whatever was meant to happen next, to happen; she took the chance to take some deep breaths to oxygenate her lungs and consider how long she could hold her breath and conclude, 'not long enough'.

She heard Terry instructing Mike and Martin to place the ladders against the tank and climb onto the lid so that they could guide Quinn through the hole and then put the brackets in place to lock the stock to the lid once they had dropped in the keys. Terry handed three key rings to Mike and told everyone, especially Quinn, which keys were on which ring; the handcuff keys had a red tag, the padlocks they would be using to hold the stock in place had yellow and the key for the padlock on the stock was blue. He told the audience that the colours were chosen to be easily seen on the black bottom of the tank.

While Terry was explaining the collections of keys Martin and Mike climbed the ladders up the opposite sides of the tank and crawled on to the lid, before becoming confident enough to stand.

"Are you to alright up there?"

"Yes," said Mike. "We just need to be careful not to fall off or fall in. Martin took a step towards the front edge and waved and gave a thumbs up.

"Ok, so you can see the plates that will hinge into place over the stock and the padlocks for that, right?"

Martin shouted, "Yes," and gave another thumbs up.

"I would like you to guide Quinn down into the tank, so that she doesn't scrape herself on the edge of the hole and so that the stock is squarely over the hole, that way the plates will go into place with no trouble. Once the plates are in place fit the four padlocks and for Quinn's convenience arrange them so that their keyholes point towards her feet, or fin, or whatever; you know what I mean. Once that is done I want you to climb back down the ladders; we can't have people thinking that Quinn was helped, can we?

"Before you do that, I need you, Mike, to drop the three keyrings into the tank." Most of the audience could make out the sets of keys as they sank down the tank. "One last thing before we lower Quinn to meet her watery fate; I need you to check and confirm for the audience that Quinn hasn't done something to sneakily loosen her bonds while she was being hoisted into position."

Martin checked that the stock was still locked and tightly trapping Quinn's shins, while Mike gave her a quick shake by the belt and then her wrists. Both declared that the predicament that Quinn was in had not eased during her journey to above the tank.

"Ok, Quinn are you ready?" called Terry.

"How long do I get to be ready?" replied Quinn.

"How long do you need?"

"A couple of years would be good."

"Until just then I was thinking I might let Quinn off," Terry commented. "But because of that, it's time to dunk the mermaid."

Quinn felt her downward motion and was glad of the helpers guiding her through the hole, until her head was under the water, at which point she wondered why she was not panicking. She had time to wonder whether the costume, make-up and hair would survive being underwater; she found that she did not really care as long as she got out of this alive, but she also concluded the she would rather not emerge looking like a mutant species of aquatic panda as she thought about how waterproof the make-up was.

There was a bump and she stopped going down. Looking down she could see the keys to her freedom on the base of the tank a foot below her head, but to her the distance might as well be as far as the moon, for all the good it would do her. In the distorted sounds within the tank she heard the stock being locked in place and the helpers vacating the roof of her prison.

Quinn tried looking out of the tank but could not see much, through distortion of the water and the reflections in the glass. As she looked a card was held again the glass which said "Go!" Two things went into conflict in her brain; Why was she not finding it difficult to hold her breath? And what did the sign mean by Go? Quinn's mental referee pointed out that if breathing or not breathing was not a problem, then maybe the other question took priority.

The assumption that 'Go' meant begin escaping seemed reasonable, as this was the intended point of her being trussed up and suspended in a tank of water. She began to flex her body in the hope that the wriggling and thrashing about would do something to loosen any of her elements of bondage; at least she did not have to worry about banging her head on the side of the tank.

It occurred to Quinn that something was not going the way these things usually would for a water torture cell escape. She twisted to see if she could tell what do not match her expectation of the running order of this illusion/escape. It took her several seconds to notice what was not happening; the tank was not being covered to give her the privacy to escape by non-mundane methods. She could only conclude that it was really an escape challenge for her, with the only magical help being that she did not have to worry about drowning, unless Terry got bored.

Quinn cudgelled her brains to see if she could come up with a solution to her predicament. As she felt the water soaking through shimmery fabric of her lower garment, she explored the cuffs around her wrists in the hope of finding some catch or button that the helpers had failed to spot; discovered nothing other than the genuineness of the cuffs and that the tie holding them to the belt was no looser than it had been on dry land. She tried narrowing her hand, hoping to slip through the rings around her wrists; this lead to the discovery that the means the plastic inside the cuffs had to prevent the cuffs chafing was by swelling so that they did not move on her wrist at all.

With her wrists more secure than they had been when dry, she turned her attention to the stock around her shins. Glad of the fitness she had build up over the years to keep herself looking the part of the volunteer, she raised her body to get a better look at the stock, which she had paid little heed to while it was being fitted or used to carry her inverted body to the tank.

The stock, when she got a closer look, seemed as blank as it had appeared when dry and the surrounding cap to the tank was equally blank; she had hoped to find some handles, although what good they would have done her, escaped her.

As she relaxed back into the upside-down position, she felt a vibration in the water, and heard a voice in her ear. "You're doing fine, my sweet lamb. That's some very impressive thrashing about you is doing. You'll need to keep that up for another minute or so. When you feel the block of foam between the knobs of your ankles melt away, turn your ankles a little to the side, press them together and point your toes. Then be careful not to run into the walls of the tank, 'coz even Terry can't keep you breathing underwater, if you'se unconscious"

She followed the instructions and felt the dampness of water capillarying up passed her shins towards her ankles. She had time to wonder why she was hearing Treasure's voice talking to her, but also hoped that her thrashing was pumping water up between her legs passed her shins.

The promised time later, Quinn felt the foam pad holding the knobs of her ankles apart first turn to mush, then slide down her leg before it dissolved completely somewhere near her knees. The audience saw Quinn's face take on a look of relief, which quick turned to disgust and back to relief over the course of a few seconds.

With the pad gone, Quinn could twist both ankles so that one of the knobs was behind the other as she pressed her feet together and pointed her toes. She felt herself drop a couple of inches and almost heard the gasp made by the audience at this sudden and unexpected movement. Quinn wriggled some more to work her heels though the hole in the stock. Suddenly she had the freedom of what seemed to have transformed from a oversized tank to a tiny tank. Instinctively she twisted so that the first part to land on the base of the tank was her shoulder.

"I is proud of you," came the vibrations in the tank that resolved to Treasure's voice in Quinn's ear. "But you can't just lie there like a dead haddock; you need to get up and practice moving just using your tail. Remember that you'se putting on a show. A couple of circuits of the tank should do the job then we'll move on to the next part."

It took Quinn some twenty to thirty seconds to get moving around the tank sorted out and she demonstrated her control by doing a loop in the tank. In the process of speed-learning tail-swimming, she bumped into the every wall of the tank at least three times and considered the bruises she would probably have in the morning.

"Super! But don't get too showy or you might regret it. Now you needs to pick up the red keyring and use the keys to undo you cuffs. Give us a wave when you've done that!"

Quinn wondered how she was meant to pick up the keys with her hands trapped behind her back, but she quickly came up with a plan.

The audience watched in wonder as the mermaid in the tank did vertical circle and came up with the red-tagged key-ring in her mouth, then swim to the top of the tank and release them and swish her way down the tank in an attempt to catch them on her back. The first try did not work because Quinn caught the keys with her tail-fin and shot them to the floor of the tank. The second attempt was more successful and the mermaid took a vertical pose facing the audience, waving her tail fin to keep from sinking.

Behind her back, Quinn was trying to find a keyhole in the cuffs to release her right hand, so that she could use it to release her left hand. It took three attempts to get key and hole lined up, then her hand was free.

While Quinn released her other hand, Treasure spoke to her. "A bit flashy that manoeuvre, in my opinion, but the audience loved it, so who am I to complain. You'd've found it easier to just settle onto the bottom of the tank facing up and grabbed the keys that way."

"The yellow keys are next. I'm sure you can work out what to do with them. The padlocks is lined up, so what you needs to do is insert and twist, then remove them. Ok?"

Quinn brought her hands to the front and unbuckled the belt before waving and making an 'OK' sign. Picking up the yellow key-set was easier, because her hands were free. With the keys in one hand, gripped the edge of the hole with one hand to stabilise her position and pushed her other hands through. Operating the four padlocks blind did not prove difficult, but she did a few mermaid tricks between padlocks to give the audience more than her tightly swathed legs to look at.

With the padlocks unlocked, removed and dropped into the tank, Quinn flipped the holding plates away and did a loop to gain some speed to push the stock from the hole that was her hatchway to freedom. She had not considered the weight of the stock, it moved, but only a few millimetres before settling back.

"Nice try. But that stock is going to be too heavy of you to lift, especially without any traction to speak of. That's why there's the key on the blue key-ring. You needs to undo the padlock, which will need you to reach you arm through hole to the undo it. Then open the stock to make a big enough gap that we can get you out."

Quinn snagged the last key-ring. It took pushing her arm though the hole to beyond her elbow to reach the padlock and remove it, undoing the catch was simple enough. Sliding the two halves open proved to be the most difficult part. As the stock began to open, Quinn heard Treasure's voice say, "Great job! We are sending Mike and Martin up to help you out of the water."

Quinn's rebellious streak surfaced, as she pushed the stock clear of the hole. She wanted to get out of the tank without help. She circled round the tank and then made a dive upwards to freedom.

While it worked, it was not the triumph she had hoped for. As her body left the water it suddenly became less buoyant and absorbed the momentum that she had built up. She flopped bodily onto the lid of the tank with her tail still dangling in the water and without the strength to pull the rest of herself out of the water. But she was relieved to be breathing air again and exhilarated to hear the whoops and cheers of the audience.

Mike and Martin pulled her the rest of the way out of the water and deposited her in a sling hung from the same cables that had hoisted her into the air and lowered her into the tank. The trolley was waiting for her. The helpers were returned to the audience. Quinn was taken backstage to be dried off and returned to the audience, where she felt able to have a small snack.