Boxing Clever, Part 3

A ‘real magic’ story

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. And of course they’re all restored at the end (eventually, anyway!). 

This one has sexual content too.

Enjoy!

Alice was astounded. In front of her were suspended nine sections of box, each containing a part of woman she herself had cut into pieces. And to top it all she’d swear – from that brief flash of grimace and quickly cut-off groan before Finella slammed the flap over Viv’s face shut – well, she’d swear that Viv had gotten off on it. And gotten off that Alice had been the one to do it to her.

Alice remembered how, when her hand had passed along the gaps between Viv’s divided parts, Viv had reacted as if Alice was actually touching her naked flesh. So in that respect she supposed she had been the one to bring Viv to climax. The idea made her tingle.

It didn’t hurt that Viv was drop-dead gorgeous too, especially in that superb dress.

Which was, unfortunately, probably quite ruined.

Alice was brought back to the here and now by Finella clapping her hands together sharply, once, twice. The first clap had the effect of making her leather-clad assistants stand facing the audience again, in a very precise ‘at ease’ posture. The second clap caused the flap over Viv’s face to swing open again, revealing the flushed, rather dazed expression of a woman well satisfied.

Finella strode up to the apparatus. She took hold of the flap on the box around Viv’s left breast and shoulder. She turned to the audience.

“Now you see it,” she said. Then she closed the flap. When she opened it again, there was nothing but darkness. She reached round the back and opened a flap back there too, letting Alice and the audience see right through.

“Now you don’t!”

She closed up the now-empty box then went on to repeat the process, vanishing Viv’s right hip, left thigh and right calf, leaving just half the women still in existence, her parts arranged in a zig-zag. Then, she vanished Viv’s head. Finally, with a deft movement shielded from everyone by her body, she somehow made both Viv’s feet disappear.

Finella now beckoned Alice over and positioned her standing in between the two stacks of some-empty some-not boxes, right underneath the box that had until moments ago contained Viv’s head.

“On my mark,” Finella said.

Alice was confused. She looked around.

“No!” Finella chided her. “You must stand absolutely still.” She strode over and manhandled Alice back into position. “Remember,” she said, once she had stepped away again. “Absolutely still. Otherwise… well, it wouldn’t be good.”

A drum rolled.

“On my mark,” Finella said again. This time Alice managed not to move a single muscle.

“Go!”

Alice clenched her teeth and tried not to react as a series of clunks echoed from each side.

Nothing. Something had moved, obviously, but nothing had touched her. She looked at Finella, who was grinning. Nervously, she risked a peek to her left.

The suspended boxes there had simply dropped, so that they rested one atop the other, the bottom one still about six inches above the floor.

The same was true on the other side.

“Made ya look!” Finella taunted.

Well yes, Alice thought. At least she’d neither pooped nor peed her pants, as the playground chant went. She started to relax.

“No!” Finella chided her again. “Stand up straight. This isn’t over.” She clapped her hands again. The assistants stepped forward with metal runners and set them up across the top and bottom of each box, both in front of and behind Alice, enclosing her in a wide-barred cage. She could easily climb through them, she knew, but to do so would prove so wasn’t as brave as Viv and she did so want to live up to the stunning woman’s example.

With thoughts of Viv’s beautiful smile distracting her, Alice didn’t register the rumble of boxes on either side until they’d almost hit her. Steeling herself not to flinch, she braced for impact. A second later the boxes hit her shoulders, both left and right, jarring her, but not as hard as she expected.

“Keep pushing,” Finella commanded. The boxes started up again, squeezing her arms inwards. Then there was a pop and she felt the metal sides of the boxes travelling through her!

And it hurt! It was like the feeling of skinning a knee when she fell as a child, but over a larger area and going ever and ever deeper, as if she was being ground away right down both sides. But as the lines of pain progressed, she felt herself reforming behind the steel sheets. On one side, at least. On her left side. On the right she felt nothing at all.

The pain was more than compensated for by blissful waves washing through the reformed flesh of her left arm. Who knew an arm could feel that good? It was like she had been reborn, perfect and blemish-free, the residual ache from her long-ago broken arm – the result of a mountaineering and abseiling expedition gone wrong – now completely gone.

If she’d thought the bliss of a reformed arm was wonderful, the joy of a reformed chest and heart and lungs was even better. Her renewed heart pumped with desire to get back up that mountain, her lungs to suck the thin air at altitude. And her breast – well her sensitive chest wanted to be touched – to be touched by Viv, cradled by Viv, suckled and pinched by Viv.

The clang of the two boxes colliding within her shook her out of her fantasy. She took stock of herself and discovered that while she really could feel nothing from inside the box that covered the right half of her chest, the left side felt whole and complete.

Finella clapped her hands once more. The assistants flung open the flaps on the two boxes and the audience promptly burst into applause. For a moment, Alice was confused. Then she understood. She could feel something in the right-hand box after all, at least once the flap opened and let in air to tickle the bare skin inside.

And that was the point. Her shoulder shouldn’t be bare. She was wearing a long-sleeved button-down blouse, albeit maybe with one more button open than she should have. Viv’s shoulder, however, in her off-the-shoulder dress, had been bare. Even without Finella coming forward with the inevitable mirror to show her, Alice was sure that Viv’s right chest and upper arm had replaced her own, that the nipple she felt pebbled inside a satin bodice was not hers but was the one she’d looked down at longingly several minutes ago, just before she pushed down on the cutter that would separate it from its owner.

If only her arms weren’t stuck half-way inside these damned boxes! Then she could have reached up and checked.

She looked in the mirror. Seen side by side, her new right breast was definitely a little smaller than its fellow on the left. And the bare skin above it lacked the little tattoo she had there. But it was indeed a fine breast. One she’d like to play with, whether it be attached to her or to its erstwhile owner.

Finella closed boxes up herself, taking a chance to cup both of Alice’s breasts under the pretence of making sure they were far enough in not to be bumped by the closing flaps. Alice shuddered, drinking in the differences between how the two sensitive mounds responded to Finella’s touch, one quick to arouse, the other slower but more intense.

Then Finella stepped back to repeat the process with the next pair of boxes. After the high of the first coming together, the swapping of lower legs was far less intense, although still pleasurable. The passage of sheet steel through her upper thighs, though, was as intense as she’d felt the first time. When the boxes clanged together, she almost came on the spot.

Let it be my core, next, she thought. But no, it was the head box that came relentlessly down, turning her thoughts to mush as the steel sheet passed through her brain. But, like before, when everything came back together in the wake of the sheet’s passage it came together better. Her thoughts were faster, sharper, ideas coming more clearly formed. Hey, she thought, so this is what it feels like to gain an IQ point or two.

She steeled herself for the final merger. The passage of the boxes through her sex was bound to be intense, but surely it would be even better if she was already primed for release. She conjured up an image of her own pussy, and of what she imagined Viv’s was like, topped with a short-cropped brown landing strip of hair. She pictured them coming together, rubbing together, merging together…

Her climax, when it came, was every bit as violent as the coming together of the two steel boxes which had just pulverised and reformed her delicate core.

She saw stars.

When she came to, she was lying down. Inside something. A glass box. And metal cutters were being withdrawn from her overstimulated flesh, one at a time.

Oh yes, the magic trick. The so-called illusion. The illusion that had been ever so real.

Once the last blade was withdrawn, Finella and the two leather-clad women helped her from the box. She felt ever so unsteady and was pleased when rather than having to negotiate the steps, one of Finella’s assistants hoisted her into her powerful arms, depositing her carefully on the stage. With the assistant still holding Alice’s left hand, and Finella now taking her right, they turned her to face the audience, which burst into deafening applause.

The other assistant had wheeled up a full-length mirror, which she placed so that Alice could see herself without blocking the audience’s view. With a smile of approval from Finella, Alice turned her head just far enough to get a proper look.

It was her, reflected back in that silver-backed glass sheet. And it was Viv too. It was half her and half Viv, and wholly something entirely new.

Her right chest was Viv’s, her left her own, the buttons of the remaining half of her blouse now passing through buttonholes that had appeared in the red satin of Viv’s gown. Over her belly, a complex knot joined the four inner corners of her quartered clothing, leaving gaps above both hips where the severed edges of both upper halves hung just short of the new waistlines. Below the waist, the two costumes had merged into a loose pair of slacks which was black over her left hip and red over her (or was it Viv’s) right, before swapping over in a swirl of colour over her crotch to become red on the left and black on the right, then once again at her knees. It was bewildering, but it worked in a strange sort of way. She was just glad that it all hung together, rather than flapping open to reveal more than she wanted.

“Now we have to bring back the lovely Viv,” Finella said. She led Alice (or should she now be thinking of herself as Alviv? she wondered) around the back of the reassembled box. Under Finella’s direction, she put each cutter back in its right place inside the box. When she was done, Finella darkened the sides of the box again and had Alice remove the first cutter. Underneath was the other half of Viv’s hips, the half not currently attached to Alice.

Moving upwards, she lifted out one of the chest cutters to reveal her own chest. It was strange seeing herself from this angle. Did her boobs really strain her blouse that much? Were her nipples really that prominent? Maybe she should consider getting some more substantial bras, at least for when she went into the office. She couldn’t resist reaching down to brush the protruding nub, to see if it would harden further.

It did. A faint moan emanated from under the box covering Viv’s head. A bolt of desire shot through to Alice’s groin and her left breast ached in sympathy with its separated twin.

Finella pulled Alice’s hand away before she could get too carried away, and instead directed her to remove the remaining cutter boxes from the cabinet below her.

Moments later, Viv’s full form was revealed, in one piece again but hardly herself. Half of her constituent parts were actually Alice’s, and her costume was that same strange blend of both of their clothes, an exact mirror opposite of the getup Alice now wore.

“You can get out now,” Finella said. “Alice, give her a helping hand, please.”

Alice reached out and took the hand of the woman who was, from the neck down at least, the mirror opposite twin of her own blended self. The moment their hands met she felt an electric zing. Her eyes shot wide.

You felt that too? The voice was Viv’s, but it was inside Alice’s head.

Oh yes, she replied silently.

Alice finished helping Viv out of the cabinet. Finella slid in between them and took both their hands to lead them to the front of the stage. The mental connection between Alice and Viv was fainter now, with Finella in between them, but it wasn’t completely gone.

All three took a bow, to rapturous applause.

Once the clapping had died away, Finella let go of them, turning to face them.

“Well I suppose I’d better put both of you back together the right way, then,” she said. It was a statement, but Alice thought she also detected the hint of a question in it, the hint of an offer. Alice took Viv’s hand, her quick mental question being met with enthusiastic agreement.

“Well,” Alice began. “We were wondering if…”

Viv butted in. “We were wondering if you could save that for tomorrow night’s show.” She grinned. “Only because we’re sure you have other illusions to perform before the curtain falls. We shouldn’t monopolise your time.”

Her wink promised Alice that it was her time she intended to monopolise instead.

“OK,” Finella said. “If you’re sure. Thanks for being such great sports. Enjoy the rest of your evening, both of you.”

She shooed them off stage, Alice and Viv supporting each other as they got used to how their mismatched bodies moved. As they reached the first step, Alice thought she heard Finella’s voice whispering inside her head.

And the rest of your night, you minxes!

The pair looked round, but Finella had turned away. She was facing the audience now, all business.

“Right,” she said. “Who’s up next?”

THE END