Quinn has a sexy spooky adventure in magic investigating a Halloween horror story. Set in a world where magic is real. Sorry its a bit long

Malice Mansion

I groaned and tugged once more at my bonds. Useless. I figured this would make a great story once I had gotten out of here, I just had to think of a way out. Which at the moment wasn't looking easy. I was being wheeled through a dark corridor buck naked, held in place on the hand cart by leather straps around my ankles, thighs, waist, chest and neck. A bright red ball strapped in place in my mouth completed my humiliation. It was certainly quite the story, I just hoped to live to tell it . But it's so crazy no one will believe me. Maybe it’s just a dream?

…..

“Quinn”

“Yes Sir, sorry.”

“Something you want to share with the team ? “

“No! Sir! “

The truth was I was annoyed, fucked off actually. As a relatively junior agent I was pleased to have been selected for the task force assigned to the investigation into the Malice Mansion, a hotel in rural Utah which had come to the agency’s attention. But once again it seemed I had chosen to be the bait, young female checking in alone for the halloween theme weekend. It wasn’t just the risk factor, there would be other agents checking in undercover too, more the battle to be taken seriously in the agency and not just written off as the hot one from last year's intake.

Checking in had been uneventful and although I was tired from the flight up from LA I decided to take a look around. Besides, the room didn’t really make me want to linger. With its iron bed frame, dark wooden furniture and heavy drapes it looked like the pastiche of the accommodation in a saloon from a western. No phone, wifi or tv either , apparently for the authentic retro experience.Trusting my fellow agents had my back I delved into my case for something to wear. Figuring I wanted to be noticed without standing out too much I picked a pair of black leather pants, red top and put my boots back on. I could up the ante later if needed.

Heading back to the bar I ordered a martini and checked out a flyer. The place was pretty full for mid afternoon, but then there wasn’t really anywhere else to go, this place really was in the middle of nowhere. Quite a few of the guests were in their Halloween costumes already and I realised I would have to join them if I wanted to blend in. I sighed and took a sip of the drink, trying to avoid catching the eye of a guy in his fifties dressed as the fattest vampire I had ever seen.

I saw that one of the function rooms had been set up as a cinema and figured that would be a safe way of killing an hour or two before dinner when it looked like things started to ramp up. Grabbing some of the complimentary popcorn I slipped into the back of the “Penny Odeon” and took a seat.

The screen was filled with a sepia toned black and white silent movie. Someone in a moth-eaten looking yeti costume was “attacking” a blonde in a white evening gown . The only scary thing was how bad it was. Mercifully I had arrived just as it ended. The next short movie grabbed my attention rather more. Although also  black and white, it was clearly a modern production edited in a fake vintage style. The protagonist was a tall female character in a very alluring outfit. A black corset, thong and fishnets and high black boots. She had a slender figure and wore her hair in a ponytail but an opera style mask concealed her identity.

It all seemed to be a bit over the top for a cliched old magic act. Her co-star on the other hand wore only the tiniest of bikinis., which certainly wasn’t period correct. Not that I was complaining.  Magic acts are a bit of guilty pleasure of mine and I leaned forward in my seat a little as the magician’s henchmen grabbed the pretty blonde and dragged her towards a waiting table. She was quite the actress, her struggle was very convincing. In fact the henchman were being very authentically rough as they picked up her

up and strapped her down, to the extent that her bikini top was pulled off in the struggle.

I suddenly wondered what sort of weekend this was exactly. And whether the halloween costumes I had shoved into my case were going to be blending in as well as I had imagined. My attention was pulled back to the screen. The actress's struggles seemed even more intense now that she was strapped down spread eagled to the rough wooden surface. The magician was lowering a large buzz saw blade into place over the girl’s waist. Her eyes were wide as saucers and she was thrashing wildly and uselessly, which made quite the show, her bare breasts jiggly madly.

The black clad magician threw a long lever and the circular blade started to spin up slowly. It was easily five feet across and seemed to have a heft that was unusually realistic for such a prop. After several seconds the mechanism must have decided it was up to speed and the blade began to sink ominously towards the blonde’s taut belly.  The actress was doing so well. At the last moment she played it as if the fight had gone out of her and she laid still, resigned to her fate. The blade carried on its imperious course and finally made contact with bare flesh. I admit I wasn't really expecting what happened next. A fountain of blood sprayed up and the blonde shuddered one last time before slumping onto the table. The blade took seconds to finish its descent through women and wooden table alike and came to a halt. It was alarmingly realistic. The magician’s henchmen pushed the two parts of the table apart and I was shocked again when a very convincing knot of bloody viscera fell to the floor .



I took a deep breath and paused for a moment before I left the cinema, which was the only reason I saw the credits at the end of the movie. I was still thinking the special effects team needed a medal when I noticed the name of the actress. Tasha Jones. The name rang a bell, then it came to me, the same name as one of the missing women..

A bit rattled I took a wrong turn out of the cinema and instead of the bar found myself in a long room which for the purposes of the weekend seemed to have been branded as The Gallery of the Grotesque. I walked quickly though the exhibits, pictures inspired by horror stories and movies old and new without paying much attention. At the end of the room was a statue which made me pause. A beautiful naked woman apparently formed from white marble. The detail was amazing, not least in her head and hair, which was also notable as she was posed holding her head under her left arm. Her expression was a mixture of shock and delight and there was something about it that seemed uncanny, too real to be art. Almost unconsciously I reached out and ran my finger over the gentle curve of a stone hip. I would have sworn I could feel the pores in her, it’s, skin. I looked at her expression one last time. Was it terror, or lust ?

The final exhibit made an impression too. On the end wall by the door a row of three heads mounted like hunting trophies on wooden shields. Each of the beautiful women, one blonde, one brunette and one redhead wore sad desperate expressions and the heads were amazingly life-like. I moved a little closer. The redhead in particular looked familiar somehow. I glanced over my shoulder and reached out gingerly. I stepped back and screamed. She felt warm and soft. Then she blinked. Annoyed with myself I clapped, the actresses employed to spend the afternoon stuck in a wall deserved some feedback I figured. She completed her part in the show by whispering “Help me” in a dry croaky voice.

It was only when I went through into the hallway it occurred to me the wall didn’t seem deep enough to hide the staff members in…..  I shook my head and figured I would try and work out how it was done later, as I wanted to get back to my room and change for the evening. I needed to keep my cover.

I ran the shower, it was cold so I left it running while I looked through my bag to decide what to wear for the evening. I slipped out of my top and pants, I had felt I looked good but realised that by playing it safe I had just stood out more. I unhooked my bra and slipped out of my thong. The water was just lukewarm. I gasped, a shiver ran down my spine. I was clearly just being dumb, the atmosphere and special effects were getting to me. I laid out my chosen outfit figuring if I was gonna be working the whole weekend I may as well have some fun with it.

Red high heels, red hold ups, red thong and matching bra from Honey Birdette, both replete with their signature metal details, plus some red wings to wear on my back and a little red mask. My little bow and arrow prop meant I would be the hottest cupid in town. Steam at the bathroom door suggested the hot water had finally arrived so I bunched my hair and slipped into the bathroom.

I relaxed a bit as I let the hot water stream over me. I was being stupid, the special effects and the like were better than I had expected and I needed to stop letting them get to me. I was excited for my costume for the evening and for the live magic show in the ballroom, or the Danse Macabre as it was branded for the weekend. I slid out of the shower and looked for the towel. I was sure I had left it on the basin. Looking around the steam filled room I felt another shiver. A draft ? My mind playing tricks with me ? I was a bit annoyed that the Halloween games were getting to me so much, but for some reason my mind went to those creepy films where the apartment building was rigged all over with cameras and hidden passageways. I went out to the bedroom and still couldn't see the towel. The room seemed cool, I felt the goose bumps rise all over my naked body, more so when I looked on the bed. My cupid outfit was now on top of my case but the slutty cop costume I had picked up at the airport store on a whim was on the bed. I shook my head again and checked the door, certain I had gotten the cupid stuff ready. Had I changed my mind, were the martinis stronger than I thought?  This place was really getting to me .

I shoved the cop thing away, too tacky for this crowd beside being a bit obvious and slipped into the cupid outfit. Well lingerie really. I knew I was asking for one of those special talks back at the office when people saw me like this but I figured it was all in at this stage. Checking my hair and make up I pulled the mask into place, adjusted the wings, grabbed my bow and headed to the theatre.

It’s a strange world when you feel overdressed in little more than some red lingerie, but overall I felt good.There had been more than a few admiring looks as I found my seat in the small theatre but there were a few people being even more risque. The magician looked stunning, reprising her outfit of black leather corset, thong, fishnets and boots, with her features hidden by an opera mask. I was enjoying the show, the sleight of hand was very well done, if not especially original. There wasn’t much halloween content but her outfit was enough to hold  my attention between attempts to scan the room for anything suspicious. There was nothing obvious, I wasn’t even sure I spotted any fellow agents.

“...volunteer from the audience.”

My attention snapped back to the stage . The lighting had become a mox of reds to set a more ominous tone and the magician was clearly looking for a helper, but it seemed no one was keen. I wasn’t sure why people were so reluctant to pick a card or whatever she needed. The lack of volunteers was becoming embarrassing so deciding that being up on stage would be a great ice breaker to try and get to know some of the other guests after the show I took a deep breath and stuck my hand up.

Moments later I found myself up on the stage looking out into the gloom that shrouded the audience. Was I really up on stage in a room full of strangers wearing lingerie? My heart was pumping hard so I only caught half of what the magician was saying. I used my real name, not like it would make any difference but only started really listening to her honeyed voice when she mentioned magic box . I start to wonder if I haven’t made a massive mistake but it’s too late now.

The box was a little like a cupboard. It was wheeled out on a low platform, presumably to confirm people could see right under it. It had four legs then the box itself which seemed to have double doors on the front, which was decorated with a painted female form from thigh to neck. I felt a shiver down my spine when I realised the figure was wearing red lingerie.

The magician looked fantastic close up, her black leather outfit emphasising her athletic body and pale skin.. Under her direction I found myself backing into the box. She slid half of the top into place, which completed a cut out which fitted around my neck then closed the doors, covering me from neck to thigh. The box was about the width of my shoulders, and shallow enough that the doors pressed on my stiffening nipples as they closed. To my amazement they rubbed even harder against the painted wood when the magician demonstrated the solidity of the blades she had wheeled out.

The first sword was long and thin, it had one of those cup shaped handles, and the magician was aiming it at the box about where my navel was. I wasn’t sure how the trick worked exactly, fake sword, somehow the sword bent around the shape of the box , but what I was not expecting was to feel a cold sharp point against my skin. I screamed for her to stop, that I could feel the sword, something had gone wrong, but she pressed on. The tip stretched my skin until it broke then I felt the hard metal slide into me. It took me a moment or two to realise that I wasn’t in agony. After the initial stabbing sensation it actually felt strange, maybe even good. She gave me a knowing look as she chose the next sword. She ran this one through me at the top of the box at the base of my neck. I made a startled gurgle that was drowned out by the applause.

The blades came fast now, I could feel the cool metal slide through one shoulder then the other. A couple more at my waist. I was taking deep breaths now , and was glad of the little red mask which hid my expression and well as my flushed complexion. I closed my eyes for a second and then they popped open as the next blade made its presence felt, its genuinely sharp tip pressing against the nipple of my left breast. I opened my mouth to form a protest but the words never came. I felt the smooth metal compress then part my flesh. A scream died on my lips, replaced by a long low moan and my head tilted back as I came close to passing out.

The next blades were something of a blur. Shoulder, belly then my other nipple. The magician seemed to know just what she was doing, mixing targets which gave more and less sensation in a coordinated cocktail of skilled assaults on my senses. By the time a blade inevitably skewered me near the bottom of the box, ripping through my already over-stimulated pussy I had lost all self control and felt myself shake violently as I experienced an orgasm on stage in front of a few hundred strangers. I could only hope the mask did indeed mask what was really going on.

I wasn’t really paying much attention to the act by this stage. As I calmed down a little I started to wonder what the hell had just happened. It was obviously impossible that the swords had indeed penetrated me, and that word made me blush even though it was only in my head, and yet I knew what I had felt. Struggling to find a rational explanation bar taking leave of my senses I started to wonder if getting up on stage in my underwear and locked into a box was gonna play well with the supervising agent.

The magician took a bow before turning me all the way around to show the back of the box and the myriad of blades which were poking through it. She chose a few to slide slowly in and out while I was side on to the watching faces and for a moment I was worried I was going to climax again. Then she started to withdraw the swords in quick succession, throwing them into a waiting bin. The sensations on the way out were quite different, more a ticklish massage and so I was spared a second peak, but was still breathing heavily by the time she was done.

Finally she undid the box and I was ready to make a dash back to my seat and hide in the relative sanctuary of the gloomy theatre when I realised the applause was being overtaken by whoops and wolf whistles. Glancing down I realised that it had pretty much shredded the red lingerie, my thong was laying on my feet and my bra shredded and only hanging on by one arm strap. I could feel myself turn red as I clamped one hand over my hips and wrapped the arm in front of my now bare breasts. It was a good trick for sure and I had fallen for it. I guessed the magician had an idea for a dignified exit for me so when she asked if I would like to help with one more trick I agreed without really thinking.

I hurried across the stage in an odd shuffle trying to preserve a few shreds of dignity even if it was too late for my costume. At least I thought it recognised this trick. The magician was centre stage holding up a large canvas sack. Beside her was a wooden trunk. Foolishly I breathed a sigh of relief. I figured all I had to do was climb into the sack inside the trunk, she would close the lid and somehow I would reappear outside the box in her hot leather get up and she would be revealed inside.

She arranged the sack inside the trunk sure enough then had me turn around with my back and bare ass to the audience. I thought she was going to help me step over the high wooden sides with some dignity but in fact with surprising strength she pulled my arms behind my back and snapped a pair of metal handcuffs around my wrists. .

It seemed like protesting would be useless as I had sort of volunteered for all of this and I was so far in now I didn't want to blow my cover so I went along with the act. This meant turning to give the audience an interrupted view of everything I have, made all the more graphic by having to step over the high sides of the trunk. It was almost a relief to bob down and have the magician tie off the top of the sack and then hear the clunk of the trunk being closed.

As everything went dark it occurred to me that once again I had no idea of what was meant to happen next, how the trick was to work. I waited and waited, wondering if there was some sort of hidden lever I was meant to know about or something. Then the trunk shook a little and I took a deep breath and braced myself for my return to the stage.

Instead I found myself locked to the handcart! I blinked at the harsh light from a bare bulb at the end of the corridor . My captors were heavily muscled and I suspected I would have no chance of eluding them even if I were untied and fully clothed. I moaned into the gag, mind racing. Did they know I was undercover ? Or had I stumbled into a kidnap plot using the magic show as a front?  I writhed and tugged but I could barely move.

After a couple more corridors the two thugs deposited me at my destination. The room was bright white and all the furniture and fittings were gleaming stainless steel. It was full of machines and gadgets that I didn't recognise at all, overall it looked more like an operating theatre than the basement of a creaky hotel. I felt a cold dread take over me and I tried to scream again.

With the help of the two thugs an older guy in a white lab coat and wire frame spectacles removed me from the trolley and carried me over to a stainless steel table, which I was held down on spreadeagled by tight metal hoops over my wrists and ankles. I was stretched out so tight I could barely move a muscle, trapped on the cold metal.

“Please let me go!”

I decided not to say I was an FBI agent, it might make things worse and I was hardly in a position to try and take the initiative. The guy in the lab coat ignored me and continued to play with the settings on the console he was standing by.

“She will make an excellent subject . “

“Subject ? What the hell ? What are you doing to me, let me go! “

“Let you go ? Why my dear there is no chance of that. You are here to help me test my disassembly engine, the culmination of a lifetime's work. “

“Dis what ? “



I screamed again

“I have perfected a technology that allows the human body to be taken apart and reassembled. Imagine being able to order longer legs for your wife , or better breasts. I will be world famous. Rich.”

“That makes no sense, its impossible, you are crazy. Anyway where would you get the spare parts fro……”

It seemed not only had I been captured by a madman, it was one who had seen too many movies and felt the need to explain the plot. A rational voice inside my head was telling me that this was all somehow part of the show. Mad scientist, very halloween. I hoped the voice was right, odd that being locked down on a table naked and streamed to a bunch of strangers seemed like the preferable possibility.

There was a loud hum and a click and I tried once more to get three before deciding my struggles were just making a better show of it. I took a deep breath, trying to remember my training, to stay calm, and look for an opportunity.  Then the laser gun thing came down from the ceiling and I screamed and screamed.

It looked like a bad sci fi prop but it was pointing at my waist.It reminded me of the kind ofr thing I had seen on tv in a car factory.  I took a deep breath and pulled on my metal restraints one last time.

“Please”

A piercing blue beam of  light burst from the end of the whatever it was and started to creep towards my waist. I could feel its intense heat before it reached me then I just sobbed as it passed over me just below my navel. The heat was so sharp, so concentrated it almost didn't hurt. I lifted my head, looking down between my bare breasts I could see a neat red line marking the track of the light beam . I could still feel my toes, that was something I figured as they wiggled on demand. Had all that just been to draw a line ? Would make sense if this was all a show.

The light sprang to life again. This time it tracked a course over my shoulders, left then right. My wrists were next, quickly followed by my elbows then my hips, knees and my ankles Each line just by the actual joint rather than through it I noticed. I took deep breaths, and closed my eyes. When I opened them again the gun had moved lower and to my absolute horror made a circular pass on its articulated arm scribing its black mark around the base of my right breast.

Once it had done the other boob it fell silent and the mad science guy came back into the room.

“What the fuck have you done to me?”

“I thought I explained it perfectly clearly “

He pushed over a trolley with a series of metal trays on it.

“You rambled some rubbish that sounded like the script for a bad movie, if that…”

At which point I stopped talking, because the guy had just picked up my foot and carried it over to the tray. For some reason I didn't freak out, in fact it was like I was watching a slow motion replay, so clearly did I absorb everything that was happening. I could feel his warm clammy hands on my foot, my foot twitching at the unexpected touch and the chill surface of the metal as my foot was set down some six feet away from the rest of me. I wriggled my toes, dreading the result but I could feel them play on the cool metal even as I watched them move. My mind was blown, I couldn’t even think of trying to find a reasonable explanation so I watched in shock as my other foot followed. My hands were set on the next tray, then my arms, and legs. Once all were laid out neatly he fetched a second trolley and picked up my hips. I held my breath but he showed no real interest in my most private parts, simply setting them down. Once he had unstacked my tits and chest he lifted my head up by my hair and put it neck stump down  right by my hips.

I was too stunned to think much less talk as I surveyed the scene, I could feel every part of me, flex my muscles even, but I arranged over two trolleys like the parts of a mannequin. I felt a tear roll down my cheek. I took a deep breath, trying to think of what to say to try and make sense of this crazy, impossible situation, like a nightmare after too many horror movies come to life. But I never got a chance. There was a deafening bang and the door flew open.

“FBI FREEZE!”

“Agent down”



“Don’t move”

I remember crying no but it was too late, three shots and the guy in the lab coat was down a red rosette of blood creeping out over the white cotton. And then it was a blur. Radio chatter, calls for medical assistance and back up, the magician pushed into the room in cuffs then pushed out again.

“Hey some help please?”

“What the… how ?  You’re alive ?

I remember the shocked faces. People trying not to look at me as they told me it would be ok. Someone finally found a sheet to cover me and give me a little modesty.

That was all almost two weeks ago. And now I am getting ready for the next stage of the assignment, working our way through the organisation, to the brains, and to the money. And hopefully to the missing women. It’s been a difficult two weeks for sure. But in the end I figured I didn’t really have a choice, to go undercover and be the bait once more.

“OK Quinn, ready if you are”

Point of no return. I nod gently.

“Sure lets do this”.

Dr Watson is sure he is getting closer to reverse engineering the technology, so he can get me put back together. But for now I am still in seventeen pieces. Which makes me uniquely qualified to go undercover as a victim of the gang. Simon the lab tech is almost comically careful as he lifts my head and attaches it to the wooden plaque the lab has made for the occasion, complete with hidden trackers.

He blushes wildly as he lifts my tits and mounts them on their own wooden mount. They look firm and perky, although I am not even close to having gotten used to the nipple rings which the shadowy client had added to the order placed on the dark web. He pauses.

“Its OK Simon we both know that I am not going to get a lot of respect of privacy when I get to wherever the hell I am going to”

He nods weakly and moves the cotton cover from my hips, picking them up and mounting the waist section onto the final board. It seems clear whoever placed the order wants to hang me on the wall.

“Ready ? “

“Not really”

He nods weakly and starts to lift each of the three mounted parts into its own packing crate while one of his colleagues packs the rest of me away neatly in a closet in the corner of the lab. Supervising Special Agent Myers stops by just as Simon is set to nail the lid on the box containing my head. I smile trying to look braver than I feel.

“You don’t have to do this Quinn”

“I do Sir, it may be the only way to save those other girls.”

“We can track you and rescue you, but we cant control what they do with you, to you till we get there.”



“I understand Sir, I have spoken with HR, signed the paperwork. We both know they aren’t buying a paperweight.”

We had spoken about just what they did want the parts for many times without ever actually saying it and I wasn’t about to open that can or worms now. At least no one had dared bring up my lack of judgement in getting naked on stage after all this.

“OK Quinn, go get em, see you on the other side.”

Simon lowered the lid and nailed it shut.

“You ok Quinn?”