"Welcome everyone!" Simon waved as he pushed a large wicker coffin onto the stage. "For tonight's pre-show, the ladies wanted to do something special. And couldn't decide who, so it was slightly randomized." He locked the coffin into place, the basket woven tightly so that no one could see into it. "Well, less the pre-show and more the first act," he changed his tune a little as he caught a large bag, filled to the brim with sharp objects.

"For this act, every member of the audience is going to come up here and take one of these swords," he pulled one out to show it off, "and stab it through this coffin," he indicated the basket. "Of course in order to avoid the obvious temptations," he indicated the area of the hips, the chest and the head, "inside has been mixed up a bit. How, I don't know."

He held out the sword carefully, handle first. "So in seat order, please come up and stab the basket. Coffin. Which ever. Once everyone has had their chance, I will open it up to reveal the results!"

A calm line formed, and the first was a cute woman in a sheer dress who started by plunging a blade right through the middle of the basket, from the top down. The next was a man who went side to side where the ankles would normally be. The third dropped hers through the head space. The fourth, then the fifth and so on until over fifty blades were through the basket. Some declined, and that choice was respected.

Once the last sword was in, and everyone had their chance, Simon rolled his shoulders. "So, who's ready to see how this went?" he asked the audience.

The general consensus was "We are!"

So Simon pulled a match out of his thong, struck it on his stubble, and lit the basket aflame!

The fire was less a fire and more a flash of cinder. The smoke cleared instantly, and on the table that the wicker coffin had been was the woman who had been inside the whole time.

Or part of her, anyway. Parts of them, to be more precise.

On the table, skewered from all angles, every blade hitting something, were five sets of chests, breasts upright, to the sides, and in one case, front-down, where the tits were pinned in place by swords coming through the back and the sides.

"Oh dear," Simon affected confusion. "Did I not say that right? Each of the five women contributed to this as none of them could decide who would be inside." He shrugged. "Crazy, ain't it? Well, let me get them back in one piece, then we can be on with the show!"

*  *  *

Charlene stood up front, the show over, and her winning seat number in hand. She had thought about what she would do if she won, and now that she was here, her voice trembled with anticipation. "That sword-basket thing at the start of the show?"

"Yes?" Simon asked.

"Can you do that? To me?"

"Sure!" he told her as she waved an errant strand of hair out of her face.

"But uh," she added with a skip to her heart. "You implied first that the woman inside was cut up and mixed up."

"I did," Simon agreed with a smile. "Nice misdirection. Classic. You want that?"

"Yes, please," she replied. "But instead of the larger coffin, can we do it in a smaller basket?"

He nodded. "I think we can do that. Just have to go grab one." He turned to leave the stage, and as he did, Charlene stripped nude. Simon came back after she was done, basket on a small table, with another bunch of swords. "How this will work," he said, "will be that you go into the basket, each piece of you will be cut off and when you're all in, it'll be a mixup. I'll know when it's done, then I'll start stabbing you," he informed her, showing of the first long sword in his hands.

Charlene nodded in understanding, looking at the basket that reached between her knees and thighs. She doubted she could fold herself into it, she wasn't that flexible. But as Simon opened the top of the basket, she steeled herself and raised one leg, dipping her foot into it.

Instantly, she felt it separate, her foot coming to rest against the side of the basket while her leg was still in place. It was... just there, like that. She pulled her leg up a little. careful of her balance, and saw that it was a clean removal. Nothing bad there. She leaned forward, putting her leg into the basket as she put her hands on the rim, her limb coming off at the knee, and below her pelvis, each cut clean and without a show. She lifted her other leg up, folding it under her, and she plunged it down into the basket, losing it into three pieces instantly, the parts mixed up like some tumbler.

With nothing left to do but commit, and not hesitate. She pushed herself up over the rim, then let go with both hands, dropping through the gap, pulled by gravity.

Her pelvis was spun to the side, then her stomach went the other way. Her hands, elbows and shoulders all popped off, while her breasts were cleanly separated from each other, but not the chest behind the, with her head being last.

She tumbled, was mixed and disorganized. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Simon close the lid of the basket, thin streamers of light showing off how things seemed to get smaller, reducing the space between her parts.

Her nose bumped her thigh, her foot pressed against her breast for a moment, then all was still.

She tried to build a mental map of how she was dismembered now, but she couldn't place anything in the poor lighting conditions.

She did, however, find with her right hand, resting against her sex. She put two fingers together and made sure that it was really her, and that she could feel everything.

She could.

The first sword went through the basket, and she didn't see it as she felt it go through the front of her left leg, across her right-shoulder blade then out the other side. "How was that?" Simon asked from outside.

"The anticipation is killing me!" she replied. "I've got a hand on my clit, and...." whatever she was about to say next was interrupted as he stabbed the basket again. Her right foot was skewered, then through her stomach and into her right arm and out. "Race you!" she challenged.

The third sword cut her right breast across the top, but hit nothing else. The fourth into her pelvis from the top and out her ass, missing the fun parts entirely. The fifth she saw coming. How could she not as it went through her eye and out the back of her head, hitting her un-occupied hand in the process. She let loose a shocked yell!

"Problem?" Simon asked, not caring as he plunged another sword through her, this time it went along her arm, from elbow to wrist.

"That was my eye!" she replied. "I can see it in me! It's weird!"

"Oh, well, if that's the case," Simon told her and stabbed her again.

This time, he heard where she was, and had an idea of her orientation. The thin sword entered the basket, into her left ear, through her head, and out the right, hitting her left chest on the way. "EEeeee!" she found it in her to say before regaining control of her tongue. "You better hurry, if you're focused on the wrong part, I'll please myself before you!"

This time, two swords came in, and one of them found her untouched tit, parting it down the middle from top to bottom. She squirmed at the sensation, even as more swords plunged through her. She tried to win, but it was hard to focus on that when he was doing such a job on the outside.

Then it happened. A single blade crossed through the basket. It found the gap between her thighs and did not enter into her. Rather, it passed through her hand and her fingers, severing them as it caressed her sex with the sharp edge. She couldn't help it, and she orgasmed, shaking the basket with her lust.

"I win?" Simon asked.

"A tie," she declared once she had recovered, her fingers still moving, now rubbing herself against the blade. "You and me at the same time."

Simon huffed at that.

"Why? You hard out there?" she taunted him. "You wanna plunge your sword into my basket too?"

"Hey, if you want," he threw the ball back into her court.

"Then how about this," she tossed it right back. "You take the swords out, you hop in here with me, all pieces, and we see how long it takes. I say, more than two minutes."

"And if I win?" he asked as he started pulling out the swords. "What do I get?"

The swords came out of her head. "What makes you think either of us lose?"

"Point," he agreed as the last swords came out. He opened the top of the basket and looked down. He jumped right in, and the tight space got even more tight as he joined her. Charlene grinned and licked her lips as she went looking for his sword, and he went looking for her basket.

In the end, they definitely both won.