Kairi-Quinn’s First Show, Part 1: The Briefcase

A ‘real magic’ story featuring Kairi.

Continuity note: this story comes immediately after the end of Kairi and the Quinnifier, Part 5.

Content warning: this story is based on the fantasy that stage magicians with real powers are – without most of the audience realising – actually sawing, impaling, transforming or vanishing their assistants and volunteers for real, but with the aid of magic that prevents the subject suffering any lasting harm and which transforms their experience into one they can even enjoy. This one has a smattering of strong language, and a dollop of sexual content too. Enjoy!




It was dark inside the briefcase. Dark, but peaceful. After the crazy day she’d had yesterday, it was relaxing to lie here in silence and just be.

Of course simply trying to define what she actually was at this particular moment opened a whole philosophical can of worms. Was she still Kairi? Yesterday morning she’d been a normal girl leading a normal life, though to be fair she had been a girl with some distinctly abnormal fantasisies. Then she’d auditioned for the role of stand-in magician’s assistant, an audition that had ended in her being rendered down to living gloop in a magical blender and recast into the physical form of Quinn, the assistant she was to provide vacation cover for. To complicate matters, she seemed to have taken on other aspects of the brunette too.

After Quinn had left for her vacation, Mistress Finella – Kairi’s new boss – had had her practice with several different stage magic props, concentrating on developing the poise, stage presence, and crowd-pleasing sexiness (with a good dollop of sass) that she’d need to be a convincing Quinn. Kairi had been surprised how easily it had come to her.

Firstly there was the poise and fluidity of motion. Kairi’s new shape seemed to have come with a built in instinct for how these muscles and limbs should move, what they could do. She’d expected to be a bit clumsy – after all, she’d be trying to walk with legs several inches longer than her normal ones, and having to maintain good posture with a chest several sizes larger than her own rather modest boobs. And all that in heels far higher than she was used to. Yet after a stumble or two it had suddenly all seemed natural. Quinn’s physical flexibility seemed to have come with the package too, which was a plus given the constrained spaces Finella, expected her to fit into.

That made sense, in a way. After all, how a body developed depended on how it was exercised. Quinn had presumably practiced her on-stage way of moving quite a lot, so the relevant muscles would be strong and flexible. What was strange, though, was that Kairi seemed to have inherited subconscious knowledge of how to perform more complex sequences of movements too. Locked inside a zig-zag box, she found she was reaching for the two hand holes without even thinking about it, and finding them without even looking, in exactly the same way she could find the wipers control in her car when it started to rain. Those were learned actions, she knew, which became subconscious after enough practice. But they were still seated in the brain, so she shouldn’t have access to them unless she’d taken on not just Quinn’s physical appearance but  some of her neural layout too.

That realisation had been the first inkling that the line between her core Kairi-ness and the Quinn shape she’d been given was going to be a lot blurrier than she’d imagined. She’d not only look like Quinn, for the duration of this job, but to a certain extent she’d act like Quinn and think like Quinn. That was kinda scary. Might she even be in danger of losing herself?

The Finella had started insisting on calling her Quinn. To accustom her to answering to that name, Finella had said, so she’d respond instinctively to it on stage. That was fair enough, but it made it even harder to maintain her own sense of self.

In the end she’d given up. For the duration of this job, she’d think of herself as Kairi-Quinn, and answer to either. She’d sort it all out afterwards, hopefully without needing a shrink!

Stranger still, these leaned actions – and the associated sights and sounds as she went through Quinn’s performanec routines – triggered memories that were definitely not Kairi’s. Sticking her hands through the holes in the zig-zag cabinet had made her ‘remember’ the feeling of what would come next. She’d felt the chill of the blades at knee, waist and neck even before Finella had picked those self same blades off the table where they lay. That memory could only be Quinn’s. It had been even weirder when she’d entered Quinn’s apartment early that evening, after being dropped off by Finella. She’d picked up the remote control for Quinn’s massive widescreen television and immediately got flashes in her mind of Quinn’s favourite shows (a surprisingly eclectic mix, really). She’d entered the kitchen and known where everything was. She’d lain down on the silk-sheeted bed and blushed at the knowledge of the toy box she just knew was hidden underneath, especially that big luminous pink plug. When she’d closed her eyes she’d even ‘remembered’ the man who had turned her over, only last week, and shoved it...

She’d frigged herself hard, then, hardly surprised by now that her fingers knew exactly how best to stimulate her new pussy. Fuck, it had been good. She’d brought herself off, several times in fact, until finally she’d fallen into a deep sleep.

And now she was folded up inside a briefcase.

Lacking anything better to do, in the dark silence, she ran over in her mind how it had happened. Finella had arrived, at six o’clock the next morning, ridiculously bright and breezy for such an ungodly hour. She’d hurried Kairi-Quinn through a rushed breakfast, telling her that their first show was in Tokyo so they needed to leave right now because it was already eight in the evening there and it would be curtain up soon. Kairi’s protests that it would take almost a day to get there had been overridden with a wave of Finella’s hand and a breezy “Not with magic, dear.”

Kairi had brightened at the idea of experiencing magical international travel. No hours stuck in queues at airports. No cramped cattle-class seats with barely room to move. No screaming babies and whining kids. No plastic meals on plastic plates.

As it was, she’d been right in all but one respect. The trip had been queue free and squalling brat free, but she’d experienced it all crushed into an even smaller space than the worst budget airline.

She’d travelled briefcase class.

It had begun by Finella instructing her to change into a long, clingy red gown which Finella had brought along in a dress bag. Then Finella had had Kairi-Quinn stand upright against a sheet of thin card a little taller than her, even in her new body. A wave of a wand from the experienced magician and Kairi-Quinn had suddenly felt herself yanked backwards, pressed down, and flattened, all within the space of a heartbeat.

For a moment she could see nothing. When her sight came back, everything looked off. Fatter. Unnaturally thick. It had taken her a moment to realise that it wasn’t that everything else was fatter, but rather that she, herself, was thinner. A lot thinner. She’d been reduced to an image of herself, or her Kairi-Quinn self at least, on the flat sheet of card, and everything looked off because she was looking at a three-dimensional room through two-dimensional eyes.

Then Finella had folded her up. Not concertina-style, but in a complex series of folds and counter-folds that she’d quickly lost track of.

Finally, Finella had stuffed her in a briefcase.

There had been a moment of dizziness as the case was picked up. Then a brief pause before a wave of overwhelming nausea which ended in a strange snapping sensation. That had been travel through some sort of magical portal, she reckoned. Then a bit more of being hefted about before being laid flat, still inside the briefcase. She’d heard voices then, punctuated with applause. The voices were definitely oriental, and after a minute or two she found she could understand what they were saying.

Shit, she was really going to be in a real magic show! In Japan! And she could understand Japanese! Had she inherited that skill from Quinn, she wondered, or was it the magic? Being magically multilingual would be useful for an international magician after all.

Suddenly the briefcase was opened. Light flooded in and the noises became considerably louder. She felt fingers grasp the top of her head and pull. Then she was unfolding, but not as a flat sheet of card. Yes, she was still nothing more than a flat sheet of processed woodpulp, but she also had a sense of being three-dimensional too, though in a strange, angular way.

Fuck! She was origami! She tried to open her mouth but nothing came out.

Finella threw a translucent silk scarf over her. There was a flash and suddenly she was a proper flesh and blood woman again. She took Finella’s proffered hand and stepped out of the open briefcase she was standing in, to rapturous applause.


To be continued in Kairi-Quinn’s First Show, Part 2...