Kairi-Quinn’s First Show, Part 2: Getting Roped In

A ‘real magic’ story featuring Kairi.

This story continues from where Part 1: The Briefcase left off.

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!




Kairi-Quinn led the volunteer up the steps to the stage. So far, apart from her spectactular entrance as a piece of origami folded inside a briefcase, she’d just helped Finella with several pieces of small magic. True, having yard upon yard of silk scarf pulled out of her mouth had been pretty dramatic, and the way Finella had avoided obscuring the audience’s view made it clear to everyone that all that material must be coming from inside Kairi rather than from up Finella’s sleeve. Ending it with Kairi’s panties popping out of her mouth, tied tight to the end of the last scarf, had been a masterstroke. The sudden caress of air directly on her sex had confirmed to Kairi that the scrap of lace which emerged from between her lips was indeed the same item she’d just been wearing. The fire in the eyes of a good few of the audience told her that they knew it too.

Still, it had basically been a conjuring trick, not one of the big illusions with cabinets and blades which Kairi was hoping for.

But now that a volunteer had been called for... well Kairi took that as a sign that someone, preferably her, would soon be put in peril in front of an audience.

And that thought made her ache down below. The good sort of ache that would have her clenching her thighs together with need if she didn’t have a role to maintain.

Why that scenario affected her so was a mystery. All she knew was that the idea of seeing the mingled lust, fear, and horror on the faces of an audience, and knowing that she was the focus of all that mixed up emotion, did something very powerful to her. Having an audience member up close would be even better.

It didn’t even matter much who the volunteer was, though she’d prefer someone she found at least a little bit attractive, someone she’d like to flirt with and perform for. This particular volunteer more than met that requirement. The woman was not that much shorter than Kairi’s new Quinn form, and certainly taller than Kairi’s regular body. The woman had long, raven-black hair that shone under the spotlight each time it swept over her. Her eyes were a deep brown, like polished walnut, a colour enhanced by the bronze silk blouse she wore. Her lips... Kairi couldn’t put a finger on why, but they just seemed to beg to be kissed.

Finella greeted the volunteer, who turned out to be called Akina. The magician asked the obvious questions about why she’d put her hand up to volunteer and  whether she’d ever been on stage before. Kairi noticed how Finella made sure Kairi and the audience were all included in the banter, the purpose of which was obviously to distract them from the apparatus that was being wheeled onto stage just at the edge of Kairi’s field of vision. Kairi was desperate to turn and watch properly, but she forced herself not to. Quinn wouldn’t let herself be distracted so easily, so neither should she.

Kairi heard several clunks, then the pad of retreating footsteps as the stage hand withdrew. That seemed to be Finella’s cue – as soon as the steps faded to nothing, the magician deftly turned their little group round.

What met Kairi’s eyes was a sort of low trolley or wheeled table with a shiny black top about eighteen inches or so off the ground. It was about two feet long and wasn’t quite rectangular, tapering from a foot and a half wide at one end down to maybe nine inches at the other. Presumably the victim of this trick was meant to stand or sit on it. But would it be her, Kairi wondered, or Akina?

That question was answered almost straight away. Finella put her hand on Kairi’s back and guided her towards the low table. Once again, the stage performance instincts she seemed to have inherited from Quinn kicked in. Without having to be explicity told, Kairi mounted the table and kneeled down on the top, her back straight, her knees apart at the wider end of the table, her ankles together at the narrow end. Her feet hung over the end, but somehow she knew that’s what was intended.

Finella now opened a shallow drawer in the side of the table and withdrew a black cloth, folded zig zag into a long, thin bolt. She laid it across Kairi’s knees, then bid Akina to take the opposite corner. Moving slowly, the two woman drew the cloth over Kairi, covering her almost completely, the thin silk brushing her skin like a lover’s touch. Only a slight breeze on her knees and toes told her that those parts of her were still exposed.

“On the count of three,” Kairi heard Finella say. “One, two, three!”

The cloth was whipped away leaving Kairi temporarily blinded by the stage lights, disoriented and dizzy. That must have been why it took her a moment to realise two things.

Firstly, her dress was gone. Secondly, she was now bound in swathes of intricately knotted rope.

The audience burst into applause. Kairi wanted to look down, to fix the sight of herself done up in Japanese rope bondage firmly in her mind, but once again she restrained herself. A real assistant would just look straight ahead and smile, so that’s what Kairi did. Hopefully Finella was having this performance recorded, but even if she wasn’t the tightness of the rope meant that Kairi only needed to use her senses and a little imagination to picture herself.

Her arms were tied behind her back, dead straight, elbows together, with some sort of criss-cross lacing that ran almost from her shoulders all the way to her wrists. It was tight enough to pull her shoulder blades together and make her shoulders ache. It also had the effect of making her chest to jut out, an effect enhanced by the tight bands of rope just above and below her breasts and crossing between them too. From there a criss-cross design in rope ran down over her ribs and belly, plunging between her thighs then looping back up around her calves, thighs and buttocks in such a way as to pin her in the kneeling position. More rope emerged from a knot at her cleavage, criss-crossing her breast bone and shoulders then looping round and round her neck.

She couldn’t move an inch. In fact it was a wonder she could breath.

Akina clapped her hands together, delighted. Finella gestured in a way that made it clear she was inviting the Japanese woman to inspect the erotic work of art she’d made of Kairi.

Kairi’s chest flushed hot when she saw the woman’s gaze go straight to her hardened nipples. She should feel humiliated being objectified like this, but instead she felt even more turned on. She knew the ropes were biting into her sex, forcing her labia apart, but she didn’t care. She positively wanted Akina to look, to appreciate her sexuality and, oh please, to give some appearance of being turned on too.

A little blush and a brief, dark look was all the proof Kairi needed. She met the vulunteer’s gaze and was pleased when the woman shivered. Yes! She was having an effect. Quite an effect.

“Turn Quinn around for the audience to see, dear,” Finella said. It took a moment for Kairi to realise that the ‘Quinn’ in question was her, and she hoped her confusion didn’t give anything away. Quinn was famous enough that a good few of the audience had probably bought tickets to see her, rather than Finella, and Kairi began to wonder if what she was doing was verging on fraud. Certainly, if she was unmasked, it wouldn’t be good.

Then she was spinning around, slowly, showing her left side, then her back and butt, then her right side to the audience. Finella tapped Akina on the shoulder to stop her there, leaving Kairi side on to the audience.

“As good as Quinn looks, trussed up like that,” FInella said, “I need my assistant free for the next trick.” She turned to Akina. “If you could just find the end of the rope and pull?”

Akina peered at the ropes binding Kairi tight. She looked this way and that. She traced the knots with her fingers (making Kairi shiver when her finger got too close to Kairi’s inner thigh). Finally Akina turned back to Finella and shrugged.

“I can’t find the end,” Akina said. “It seems to be one continuous loop of rope.”

“Well then,” Finella said. “It seems that more drastic measures are called for.” She made a beckoning gesture and a black-clad stage hand came on, pushing a rack from which were suspended seven swords. Seven gleaming, wickedly sharp, samurai swords.

Kairi’s eyes opened wide.



To be continued in Kairi-Quinn’s First Show, Part 3: Nothing to Get Cut Up Over