Fetish Magician 2: The Claustrophile: Tom: Part 4

I looked into my mug and found it was empty. “Are you ready to continue? Now that you know I can do real magic and you will not be harmed even if it may get a bit uncomfortable. You will go home with all your limbs and in the right places.”

“So, because forewarned is forearmed, what are you planning to do with me next?”

“My plan is to put you into the box over there that you seem to so admire.”

“And how are you going to achieve that, besides the obvious?”

“I have a plan, but I’m curious what you think is the obvious magician’s method of getting you into a sealed box.”

“I can think of two. The first, but on second thoughts perhaps least likely, is just make me appear inside the box. You know the kind of thing; disappear me from somewhere (under a sheet or inside another box) and then hide the box for a moment and appear me inside it.”

“Good thought, and something any illusionist and assistant could achieve (or appear to, at least). And the other idea.”

“You could hypnotise me and open the box and have me climb in, then unhypnotise me not remembering the bit in between.”

“Also a good idea, but I will not use my hypnosis on you this session and the cameras would catch me opening the box. Not to mention the security labels over the bolts.”

“For a man who can tie his shoe laces by magic, security labels by magic shouldn’t be a problem.”

“How about if I tell you that there will be a sheet involved, but at least part of you will be visible to the cameras at all times. And I shall not interfere with the security labels until I get you out of the box. Any thoughts?”

“Hmm, nothing comes to mind, except, maybe, that you think you’re going to do something to me so I can fit through the slot in the top of the box. And perhaps it’s to do with this thing that looks like an ironing board.”

“I guess sticking it in the middle there was a bit of a give-away.”

“So, how does an ironing board help you get me into the box? And why an ironing board?”

“It’s not really an ironing board, just constructed like one. Most ironing boards aren’t strong enough to bear the weight of a person and it looks bad if a prop collapses while you’re doing a show. It’s build to look like that because everyone knows you can’t hide anything in an ironing board. Of course, it resembles the original I stole the idea from, which was right for the premise of the effect achieved.”

She thought about this for a moment, then said, “You are implying that you plan to iron me flat and post me through the slot in the top of the box and get me back to normal, so you can release me.”

“That is the plan in a nutshell, but I hope the experience will be ok.”

“Let me guess; you have never tried this before.”

“I’ve never tried it on a human,” I stated.

“That implies that you tried it on something else. So, what?”

“It tried on Mr Snuffles. He’s my rabbit. The doves wouldn’t stay still enough and my cat seems to have an ability to sense when I plan magical experimentation and makes himself scarce.”

“You have pets?” she asked, as if it sounded unbelievable.

“Kind of, but the rabbit and doves are more livestock, they appear in my children’s shows. But Harvey, that’s my cat, he’s a pet and usually about for a bit of companionship. He’ll occupy my lap while I watch a bit of tele and stuff like that, but he’s independent enough that he doesn’t seem to mind that I don’t have regular hours.”

“And how did your rehearsal with Mr Shuffles go?”

“It exposed a flaw in the original plan, but it also allowed me time to think up a solution, which I tried and proved it worked in principle, after a hiccup.”

“What ‘Hiccup’?” she demanded.

“You don’t want to know. But I assure you that it’s sorted and won’t be a problem for you.” She looked at me as if I was hiding something important. “If you really want to know, I’ll tell you afterwards, because I solved that little problem and Mr Snuffles has appeared in six shows since, none the worse for it.”

“I’ll hold you to that.” She paused; thinking that she wanted to be in the steel and glass box, but was less sure that she wanted to get there by the method proposed. She came to a decision. “So how do we do this?”

“First I have to fit you with the solution to Mr Snuffles little problem.” I pulled a tyre valve and some medical tape from my pocket. “Hold this between your ring- and little- fingers and I’ll tape it into place.” She took and placed it where I told her to, but I had to turn it so that the correct end was outmost, then I wound a few turns of tape round the fingers to hold it in place.

“Ok, I hope the rest is more impressive,” Hannah commented. “What next?”

“Next you get on the board and get into a comfortable reclining position.”

“Do want me to undress first?” she asked. I could not tell if she wanted to be naked in the box or whether this was some sort of standard fetish question.

If we had not had the break when she got dressed, she would have been doing this in the nude, but I suddenly had an idea that would make her being dressed the better way to go. “No, but you’ll need to be naked for the final illusion, so maybe I can do something about that on the way.”

She went over to the board with its crossed supports and boosted herself onto it, but not before testing its strength. Once up on the board she straightened her skirt and lay on her side propping her head up with her arm.

I picked up a thin cloth and threw it over her lower half. It draped about half way to the platform below.

“I thought you said that I’d be visible throughout.”

“I don’t recall saying that all of you would be visible at all times.”

“Fine. Are you going to iron me flat from my feet up?” she asked.

“That’s the plan. If I started at your head and you didn’t like it? This way I can reverse it and move on to the final illusion I had planned.”

“So, where’s the iron you plan to press me flat with?”

“Here,” I said, lifting what I feel looks like a comically large version of a Victorian flat-iron, which because it is made of wood, but painted to look like metal also appears to handle wrong. I heard her suppress a laugh. I brought my iron to where her feet were and slowly pressed the iron down until the base of the iron was on the table.

“How did that feel, because Mr Snuffles isn’t exactly talkative about his feelings?” I asked.

“It’s, I’m not sure, I think warm describes it; like the sun on my feet.” I lifted the edge of the iron until it was higher than the outline of Hannah’s shin through the cloth and shifted it towards her knees, then pressed it flat again. I wasn’t sure at the time, but I heard her purr as her shins and then her calves were compacted to the board. I repeated the process until there was no profile below mid-thigh.

I moved the iron down to the platform below, revealing to the cameras the sharp end of Hannah’s outline a few inches below her hips. I took hold of the cloth and dragged it up her body until her belly was covered, which bared the last foot of the board.

She tried to sit up, but did not seem to find the right point of balance, because her legs were neither providing weight nor application of force to help her perform the accustomed move. “What have you done?”

“I thought you knew what I was going to do. And I have done it up to mid-thigh.” I lifted a foot shaped item from the board. She felt me touching it, judging by her giggle. I held it high enough that she could see it. A narrow strip of flesh coloured stuff connected to it went under the edge of the cloth, lifting it as I raised the foot. I showed her what I guessed would be a familiar view of her foot from the top, she obviously recognised the colour of the nail polish on the toenails; an opalescent pinky-grey that reminded me of pearls. Then I turned the foot in my hand sideways to show that it was about the thickness of the cardboard they use to stiffen a fancy shirt. I turned it further to show her the sole of her foot, perhaps for the first time in her life.

Hannah looked sceptically at her flattened foot; possibly with good reason, because most feet do not look much different from other feet, with the possible exception of distinctive toenail polish and foot jewellery. When I folded over her toes to run them over her sole, she definitely felt it.

I moved the feet to dangle from the edge of the board and picked up the iron once more. I took some pressure, but soon there were no parts of Hannah with a significant amount of third dimension below her waist. The angle of the rest of her upper body changed to take into account that the lower end was no longer at her hips, but at her waist, which does not have bony support. This seemed to be causing some discomfort, so I helped lie Hannah on her back, adjusting the cloth to keep the area where the ‘full bodied’ Hannah became flattened Hannah covered. This also had the side effect of reveal the hem of her skirt from which her flattened lower legs emerged. Some more adjustment had her lower legs dangling from the edge of the board.

I next ironed flat the rest of her mostly flat belly and pulled the covering cloth to under her chin, thus showing the rest of her skirt. She reached under the cloth to feel where her belly had gone and while her arms were under there, I put the iron over them and pressed following them in stages up to her shoulders. I reached under the cloth and pulled her flattened arms so that they hung from each side of the board on which Hannah lay.

I moved the cloth further up what remained of Hannah’s body, commenting, “You’ll probably not want to see this.” She half smiled as I covered her face and ran the iron over her chest and the slammed it down on the remaining hump under the cloth that had to be her head. There was a faint squeal, but the microphone pick up was flattened with her head.

I returned the iron to base and whipped away the cloth I had used to cover Hannah during the flattening process. It showed the cloth to be plain on both sides before draping it over the pot of sticks from the sword box illusion.

I pushed the ironing board to the side a little way and brought forward the box that Hannah seemed to find so impressive; I tossed the pen into the remains of the sword box, because I did not want it to accidentally fall into box as it rolled about.

It was now time to reveal the flattened Hannah to the cameras. I picked her up by the top of her head and one shoulder and pulled her from the board and gave her a shake so that she straightened out. A side effect of the shake was that her skirt slipped off her two-dimensional form and fell to the floor. I draped Hannah over the board and picked up the skirt and piled it on the end.

I took the opportunity to mime a light bulb moment for the cameras, to cover for the fact I was already planning that Hannah should enter the glass and steel box naked. With her legs hanging from the board it was the work of a few moments to encourage the panties to drop from her hips and fall down her legs.

I turned the board’s supporting platform round, so that her upper half was readily visible to the cameras. I quickly checked out the expression on her face and was please that there was a half-smile on her lips, but the eyes showed concern. A quick tug at the back of her collar was all it took for her blouse to begin to slide down her flattened body. It quickly gathered enough momentum to pull Hannah’s arms from the top of the board where her hands had been and fold them to allow the blouse to tumble to the floor. There was also nothing holding her bra in place and that soon succumbed to gravity, for lack of resistance. I picked up the now naked flatted Hannah by the shoulders with her head hanging by her neck down her back and then rolled her up like a poster the only parts not included in the rolling were her arms.

I took the hand held camera in one hand and the rolled Hannah in the other and filmed myself pushing her through the slot. I was careful that the hand with the tyre valve was the last piece remaining on the outside. I used a piece of tape to stick the hand flat to the box’s top; a move I felt she would not approve of, but I felt there was no alternative.

A quick trip into the darker area beyond the chalk circle found me a foot-pump which I had modified by fitting a longer hose between the cylinder and the valve attachment. I fitted the end of the hose to the valve that was still taped between her fingers and began pumping. I watched the progress through the display of the hand-held camera, which could see through the lid of the box.

The first two pumps filled her hand, without causing it to bloat; this made me feel that this was the right magic for the purpose. I reached over and patted the hand, mainly to check that it was the right kind of solid, but I was surprised by the reaction, especially as I had expected none. The fingers flexed and spread a little, but the hand over all did not move, because of the tape holding it in place.

Further pumping caused the forearm to expand from a wide ribbon to a slender cylinder and for a couple of pumps the expansion stalled at the elbow, where there was a twist. I reached into the box and turned the rolled up Hannah and with a pop her elbow untwisted and the expansion went part way to her shoulder. I continued to pump, but remained ready to help Hannah's inflation along where needed. As the expansion made it to her shoulder I saw that her hand was moving, but the tape was still holding; the movements were hesitant. I stroked her hand and after an initial start, she seemed to relax.

I continued pumping expecting Hannah to start unrolling as the air caused her body to expand, but as her upper arm reached full thickness and the expansion went into her shoulders, the roll of Hannah seemed to get tighter. Then a few more pumps later the squashed arm on the other end of the roll began to expand from the upper arm until with a pop the fingers stopped being flat.

I was in for another surprise; there was a lot of resistance to the pumping, but the arms took on a life of there own. First the fingers flexed then they moved about and felt the area they lay upon. The arms, hands and shoulders seemed aware of the tape across the back the upper hand. The hand on the outside of the box, to which the pump was attached, braced and the arms flexed to lift the other hand to feel what was going on, to the point that the lower hand followed the forearm of the upper hand to and through the slot to feel what was restraining the upper hand. The free hand felt the tape across the back of the hand and the tape binding the valve between her fingers. The hand gave a directionally poor, but clear thumbs up and descended back through the slot into the box where the remainder of Hannah was still tightly rolled around her expanded shoulders.

As I watched she braced her arms differently with her upper hand and her lower elbow and made moves that seemed calculated to unwind her flattened body from around her expanded shoulders. I took what I thought was the hint and reached into the box in an attempt to assist in the endeavour. When she encountered my hand she took a moment to slap it away before continuing. I took the more definite hint and left her to unfurl her body and stood by to pump as fast as I could when the pressure I had already introduced began to expand her body, rather just improving the strength of the expanded parts.

By peeling her legs from the outside of the roll and some shaking her rolled up body loosen to the point that I could detect the beginnings of the her upper torso expanding in the centre of the still partially rolled up Hannah. This was my cue to pump some more and I was soon rewarded by seeing her torso continuing to expand aided by her hand, because it seems that rolled up skin does not slide together so easily.

At this point I realised where I had messed up; I should have rolled Hannah up from her feet instead of her shoulders. I partially excused this mistake as being part of trying out new things, but then thought that if I had thought it through a bit more it could easily have been prevented.

The last part of Hannah to make the transition from 2D to 3D was her head, which popped into solidity, but needed an extra pump to get her nose from being a pit in her face to its more accustomed outward direction. After a few extra pumps on the foot pump, got me a open-palmed stop signal from her inside hand, before it reached out of the slot in the top of the box and ripped away the tape both holding it in place and then holding the valve between her fingers. I was glad to see that she did not deflate.

She pulled both hands into the glass and steel box. She opened her mouth to speak and made a parping sound. She smiled and began to take in her surroundings. She seemed pleased to be inside the box she had admired since she had been introduced to it, but unsure how she had ended up inside and naked.

"So, how did I get in here? I'm assuming you did not open the side and lift me in. The last thing I remember properly is you having ironed most of me flat then covering my face, then things got vague until I knew I was here."

I turned the display towards Hannah and showed her while filming the bolts holding the side on the box still covered by the signed security labels. "I finished the job, of ironing you flat, then I rolled you up and posted you into the box, before inflating you again. I did not go totally to plan, but we are where I thought we would end up, so no harm done and a lesson learned."

"So, are you going to do something with me in here? or do I need to get out?" she asked.

"You can relax there for a short while. I'll use the time to clear away the stuff I don't need any more and bring the kit for the next and final illusion. Then I'll get the screwdriver and open the box for you."