A ‘real magic’ story featuring QuinnTheAssistant, written for Quinn’s I Need a Volunteer from the Audience contest.

This story follows directly on from I Need a Volunteer, Part 2: Quinn and Cat Impaled.

Content warning: this story is based on the fantasy that stage magicians with real powers are - without most of the audience realising - actually sawing and slicing their assistants and volunteers into pieces for real, but with the aid of magic that prevents them suffering any lasting harm and which transforms their experience into one they can even enjoy. And of course they’re all restored at the end (eventually, anyway!). Oh, and there’s  some crude language and explicit sexual content too (yay!)




It’s amazing what can come of being caught red handed in a stage magician’s store room at the local theatre. In my case it was the offer of a lifetime: to act as guinea pig alongside Quinn, magician’s assistant extraordinaire, road testing a new piece of magical apparatus she’d designed. All under the steely gaze of Mistress Finella, the stage magician Quinn had been performing with in front of sell-out crowds.

I say alongside Quinn, because the apparatus was designed for two. More accurately, we were face to face, at opposite ends of a contraption that somewhat resembled a pair of home multi-gym benches joined foot to foot, backs facing each other with enough space between them for us to sit with our faces about a foot apart.

That put her well inside my personal space, which had felt uncomfortable at first. Quinn had been my idol ever since I first saw her on stage, and frankly I had a massive crush on her. But getting up close to for real was quite another thing. Quinn, though, had quickly defused the situation, teasing me something rotten, until I was almost laughing, all tension forgotten. In fact it would be fair to say she’d been acting quite the flirt, coming on strong to me, though whether she was up for more than just a little casual magical impalement still remained to be seen.

Anyway, as I said, we were now face to face on this bench. I sat with my legs astride the it, calves bound to the bench legs by leather straps, clear plastic stocks around my waist and neck pinning me to the bench back behind me, my arms tied to arm rests either side of me. The apparatus being symmetrical, Quinn’s waist and neck were similarly restrained, but unlike me her legs and arms were free. She’d made use of that to wrap her legs around my hips, supporting her thighs on my lap.

Very intimate. But it was more than just physical contact and lustful looks that connected us. There was the massively long steel sword passing through my waist stock and hers, joining us by proxy.

Given that I’d just felt it pass through me, I could attest that this was no illusion. There was magic involved, but it was true magic that protected us from the consequences of what would otherwise have been a fatal injury, and transformed the penetration into what had been a surprisingly pleasurable experience.

Now I was curious to see what would happen next. After all, there were several more swords in the rack that Mistress Finella, had wheeled out. And several more holes in the twin backs of the bench we were pinned to.

“Ready?” Quinn asked me. The moment I nodded, Quinn turned to Finella.

“Undo the catches on the central slide please, Boss,” she said.

Finella bent down. I heard three or four clicks, then she stood back up and smiled. “Done!”

“Now crank me forward.”

Finella worked a lever and the bench section that Quinn was sat on started to creep towards me, the small gap between the seats closing. Quinn’s face had only been twelve inches from mine, and watching her slide further into my personal space was so disconcerting that, no matter how much I desired her, I closed my eyes. I could still discern Quinn’s progress from the movement of her legs across my lap, though. That, and the weird feeling of the sword sliding through me again, as if my abdomen was nothing more than a living sword sheath.

A dozen or so seconds later I felt her chest touch mine. Quinn didn’t stop right away, though, the relentless mechanism of the bench pressing us closer still until our breasts were well and truly squashed together. I’d dreamed of getting this close to my idol, many times, but never like this!

Then I heard a clunk and opened my eyes. Quinn’s nose was almost touching mine. She winked and I flushed in response. I quickly looked down, at least to the extent that my neck stock would allow. It was enough to confirm that my neck stock was now hard up against Quinn’s one. Although I couldn’t see, I suspected that our waist stocks were jammed equally tightly together.

Feeling the touch of something warm and slightly damp on the tip of my nose, I looked up. Quinn had just kissed my nose! She waggled her eyebrows and pursed her lips, inviting a more intimate kiss, but I was suddenly and inexplicably shy, too embarrassed to do what I’d thought I always wanted. But I couldn’t explain that to her either, at least not with just a glance. I could only hope she’d show understanding, or at least patience.

Thankfully, she did. Or that was how I chose to interpret the wry smile she gave me when she finally unpursed her lips. That meant I still had a chance with her, I reckoned, if I could get my shit together.

Finella chose that moment to interrupt our silent byplay. “Time for the screen?” she asked.

Quinn nodded. Then she whispered to me, and I could feel her breath flutter on my lips. “That’s to hide the next step from the audience, and surprise them a bit,” she said.

I looked sideways as Finella took hold of a rectangular hoop down at the base of the benches. I’d not noticed it until now but it seemed to go all the way round the apparatus, and sat atop folds of black fabric. She lifted it, creating a box-like screen that temporarily hid us from view from all sides.

“Close your eyes now,” Quinn whispered.

I complied. Seconds later I felt a tingling wave of warmth wash over me, from my toes up to my head. It was like the feeling you get if you scan your hand on the glass platen of an office photocopier. Or your butt, if it’s one of those office parties.

As soon as the warm wave had passed over me, Finella dropped the screen. I felt the breeze of its passing on my bare skin. I felt it even where I should have been clothed.

I looked down. Shit, I was naked! And so was Quinn.

How in the heck had Finella managed it? After all, wearing a neck stock as I was, and with my arms and legs strapped to the frame, it should have been impossible to remove my jeans and t-shirt without ripping them or disintegrating them. I hoped that wasn’t what she’d done. Disintegrate them, I mean. The t-shirt was cheap rubbish, but I was fond of those jeans.

Please let them have reappeared somewhere, safe and sound I thought.

At least I didn’t have to worry about the fate of my underwear. I’d not worn any. Presumptuous of me, you might think, but then if things had never gotten this far then no-one would have known.

As I said, only part of my brain was thinking about the fate of my clothes. The other part – the larger part by far – was screaming at me that not only was I stark naked, but I was also pressed up against an equally naked Quinn. My nipples pebbled. I felt hers harden too. A shiver ran through me and I felt heat flood my groin. That part of me wasn’t touching her, as our groins were covered by triangular padded wedges. The one between my legs would be needing a pretty thorough wipe down after I was finished with it, I reckoned.

That thought made my cheeks flush even hotter. No matter what did or didn’t happen from this point on, the evidence of my arousal would be there on the seat, thick and sticky, for Quinn and Finella to see as soon as I got up.

“Skin to skin at last, eh Cat?” Quinn said in a voice deepened with desire.

I looked right into her eyes. For a moment, Quinn seemed to be even more off balance than I was. Her cheeks were flushed too. She was clearly one of those women whose blush extended down her neck to the slope of her breasts. Oh, how I wanted to feel that warmth on my lips, though obviously the clear stocks around our necks made that impossible right now.

Later, maybe.

Again, Finella broke the awkwardness. “Do you want me to turn the vibe on?”

Quinn looked temporarily confused, even though as the designer of this apparatus she must know what Finella was talking about.

Finella’s eyes slid downwards to the padded wedge between Quinn’s thighs. She got the message and nodded.

Seconds later I felt a low buzz at my groin. So that’s what the lump I’d felt within the wedge was: a vibrator mounted so that it pressed against my now-naked private parts. The device ramped up in power to a point where I felt myself opening, becoming even damper and more swollen than before. Quinn was biting her lip, so I knew the matching device between her legs was having a similar effect on her. I pressed my groin forward as much as the waist stocks would allow, but it wasn’t enough to gain any real satisfaction. Instead it just upped the teasing.

Up to this point we’d not crossed any lines that we couldn’t in front of a general, if adults-only, audience. Yes, we were naked, but the wedges hard between our thighs prevented even an on-stage witness from seeing anything down there. The way our breasts were squashed together, our nipples were out of view also. The seat backs covered enough of our butts for modesty’s sake. So far, so good. But bringing a vibrator into play, even if was out of sight, was taking the show into ‘speciality’ nightclub territory.

Frankly, I was OK with that.

Finella seemed to be gauging our reactions to the stimulation. Pretty quickly she judged us ready, or so I guessed, because suddenly, without a single word, she turned sharply round and took a decisive step away. I watched her with one eye. She seemed to be heading towards the sword rack. I swallowed. Well, I’d known this was coming...

Finella took down one of the three remaining swords and carried it over to the back of Quinn’s seat, where she lined it up with one of the chest height slots. Quinn was too focussed on the sensations running through her body to have noticed, so being a helpful sort of girl I decided to warn her (OK, OK, it was actually to make her squirm, but no-body’s perfect).

“Quinn,” I said. Once I’d got her attention I continued. “I think you’re about to get it. A sword, that is. In the back.” I paused. “Enjoy!”

Quinn gritted her teeth. I heard a sharp snap – her shoulder blade breaking, I reckoned – then she let out a long, slow hiss, which she managed to suppress for long enough to give me intermittent progress updates.

“Oh!” she said. “It’s going through my lung.” She moaned, an odd sort of moan with bits of gurgle mixed in. “And now...” Another moan. “My chest. It’s slicing through my right breast!”

She closed her eyes for a moment. “Any second now... It’s...” She swallowed. “It’s going to come out through my nipple.”

My own nipples were tightening still further in anticipation of this most extreme form of piercing. I gritted my teeth and waited for the sharp jab of the sword tip, but the moment I felt it all movement ceased. Finella had stopped pushing, the bitch! Just when I needed it the most, too.

Around the side of Quinn’s head I could see Finella leave and return with another sword. I only just managed to hold myself together as we went through the whole palaver again, Quinn moaning more loudly this time as her second breast was run through. It seemed to take forever, but I’m sure it could only have been a minute until I felt a jab at my other nipple.

“One after the other, or both together?” Finella asked. “Fast or slow?”

“Together, and slow,” I replied.

Finella gave me a jaunty thumbs up. Without further warning, she leaned forwards.

A stab of lightning in the centre of both my breasts. I gasped. Then it spread as the entry points became gash-like wounds, as wide as the blades that were entering me. The magic altered what should have been agony, converting it to a stimulating pain, muffled in warm numbness. Even through that, I could feel both my nipples sliced vertically into two, severed nerves firing like crazy.

Before I had time think, the blades were driving relentlessly on, into the firmer tissue of my breasts. “Ngh!” I gasped, as my bosom was forced back and torn open. I felt sparks zinging from both breasts, flashing downwards towards the blade that transfixed my belly, and on down to my groin, joining all four points in a Y-shape of stimulation that threatened to overwhelm my senses. True to her word, Finella took it slow, letting the erotic pressure build. I was almost coming when I felt the blades grind on bone.

Shit! My ribs. The blades were on their sides, at right angles to my ribs. They’d not slip between the bones easily. There would be splintering and breaking. I gritted my teeth.

“This last bit should be fast, I reckon,” Finella said, through the haze of overstimulation that clouded my mind.

I didn’t respond. I couldn’t respond. I just waited.

Thump! In one single instant I felt a crazy mix of sensations. My ribs parting. My lungs being pierced and deflating like punctured balloons. My shoulder blades splitting to let the invading points out. Pain and joy transfixed me. I cried out and saw stars.



To be continued...