The Worst Magician in the World

This story contains non-consensual DiD bondage, nudity and humiliation. It is a work of fiction. Please don't read it if these things are likely to upset or offend.

The first trick

The curtain rose, and the magician bowed, then blushed and switched to an awkward curtsey. She was obviously nervous. The crowd gave her a moderate round of applause, but seemed unconvinced.

The magician's name, according to the board at the side of the stage, was Alice. Or "The Amazing Alice", to give the young lady her full title. The middle-aged man in the third row felt that this was optimistic, based on what he had seen so far. He knew more about magic than most, and could see at once that Alice was not suited to this line of work.

Not that she was lacking in every area. Visually, for example, it was difficult to find fault: Alice was a slender brunette with glossy dark hair, bright green eyes, perky breasts and a cute round bum. All of these qualities were accentuated by her outfit. She was dressed in a snugly tailored tuxedo, complete with an ultra-tight white shirt that was struggling to contain her bosom, high heels, a cute bow tie, and an even cuter top hat. She looked good enough to eat.

But she wasn't on the stage to be eaten, she was up there to perform magic. And it didn't seem to be going very well.

"F-for my first trick," she stuttered, "I will make a rabbit appear from my hat."

She took off the hat, reached in her slender white fingers, and... came out empty handed.

"Oh dear," she blushed, "he must have gone for a sleep somewhere."

The audience laughed good-naturedly. It's much easier to forgive incompetence from the exceptionally beautiful, reflected the middle-aged man, whose name was Charles.

The second trick

"Never mind. This next trick is a bit easier. I will make a volunteer... disappear!"

This should be good, Charles thought. A full vanish, on (he was fairly sure) a genuine member of the public? Points for ambition, at least. A young man named Lucas was persuaded to go up on stage, and stood behind a curtain. Alice waved her arms, chanted some unconvincing magic words, and then threw back the curtain. Unfortunately, Lucas was plainly still there, and thoroughly confused.

Alice had her back to the audience, and when she turned it was apparent that she was just as confused as the volunteer and probably more so. Particularly when the audience began to whistle and laugh loudly, having noticed that the pretty magician's tight white shirt had inexplicably vanished from beneath her tuxedo. The bow tie was still securely tied around her neck, the top hat was intact, and her lacy red bra was there in all its glory, but the shirt was gone. She gave a little squeak of embarrassment and fled the stage.

Charles chuckled to himself, and then stopped. How the

hell

did she manage that, he wondered. He doubted most magicians could do that on purpose.

The third trick

Alice returned, with a fresh - and possibly even tighter - white shirt in place, and her composure mostly returned. She looked determined: lips pursed, eyes narrowed. Charles had seen that look before on some of his most promising students. She was going to prove everyone wrong... or make everything worse.

"Sorry about that, everyone," she said, smiling. "Just a small technical issue. Let's have a big hand for Lucas, a wonderful volunteer."

The audience obliged, clearly enjoying themselves, although possibly not in the way Alice would have wanted. Charles was still picturing the way her breasts had looked in that skimpy bra, knowing full well that a canny magician would use any means to misdirect the audience's attention. The girl was so beautiful that it was difficult to concentrate on her 'technique'.

"For my next trick..."

"Next? You've not managed one yet!" called out a well-refreshed gentleman near the back, to hearty laughter.

"Okay, you've got me," Alice smiled, "but this one is worth the wait. I'm going to climb inside that wardrobe..." She pointed to an elaborately carved item on one side of the stage. "...and climb out of that one!" This was way over on the other side, a good 30 feet away. Charles leaned forward, intrigued. There was an obvious method, but it didn't seem plausible that identical twins of such outrageous beauty could have reached their mid-twenties without becoming famous. Besides, it took great skill to smuggle in the second twin without alert members of the audience spotting the trick, and Charles was more alert than most.

"I've seen that movie!" It was the same heckler as before. "You've got an identical twin! Or a machine that clones you!"

Alice smiled again as the audience laughed. "I've seen it too, sweetheart. How about you come up on stage and help me prove I'm not using any of those tricks?"

The drunk was game, although his confidence deserted him a little once he got under the spotlights.

"You think I've got a twin, honey? How about you examine both the wardrobes, and see if she's hiding inside. And you can check for cloning machines while you're at it."

The search was fruitless, as Charles had at once seen it would be.

"And now, please could you sign your name on this playing card? Then we will place it in the breast pocket of my tuxedo."

"You'll just take it out of your pocket, and throw it to your twin."

There was gentle laughter at this far-fetched idea, but Alice took it seriously.

"How about if you bind my hands tightly behind my back? Then I won't be able to reach the pocket at all. Don't worry, my hands will still be tied when I appear on the other side."

The volunteer seemed intrigued by this idea, and couldn't find a fault with it. He declined the offered rope, and produced a ball of string from his pocket. He quickly tied Alice's wrists together behind her back, obviously using his full strength to yank the knots as tight and secure as possible.

"Ouch! Honey, you really know how to treat a lady!"

This time the laughter was sympathetic, and Alice seemed to have found her confidence. Maybe the third trick would be the charm.

With the card tucked away in her breast pocket - the volunteer had insisted in placing it there himself, leering drunkenly at the seductive bulge and curve of the thin cotton - and her wrists neatly trussed behind her back, Alice smiled at the audience and stepped through the door of the first wardrobe. There was a crack of thunder and she emerged through the other door, smiling even more brightly... until she registered the surprising fact that her shirt, jacket and trousers had all vanished, and she was standing there in her scarlet underwear (plus the bow tie, top hat and heels, not that these did much to cover her body). She blushed deeply.

"Er, sorry everyone. That wasn't supposed to happen."

Hands still bound behind her back, unable to cover herself up, Alice fled clumsily from the stage. Laughter again filled the room.

The fourth trick

When the pretty young magician returned a few minutes later, the atmosphere was rowdy. Listening to the laughter and wolf whistles, the boos and ironic cheers, she looked about anxiously; that burst of confidence had faded. Alice had replaced her vanished tuxedo, this time with one that was gold in colour, and was wearing yet another tight-fitting shirt. She also wore a heavy dark-blue cloak over the top, and Charles wondered if it was designed to offer some protection if this suit disappeared too.

"So that just happened, right? Wow!" She smiled nervously, trying to style it out. "Look on the bright side, you're getting to watch tricks done in a way they've never been done before!"

There was some semi-audible muttering about refunds, but also a smattering of applause, and a couple of cheers that sounded genuine. She really was

very

pretty, and the crowd couldn't stay mad at her for long.

"So listen: I've got one last trick for you, and I've got a feeling that this one might actually work! Ha ha. So what do you say, shall we give it a try? Worst case scenario, you get to see me in my underwear again!"

There were more cheers now. She was a good sport, and the crowd admired her plucky attitude.

"And so... for my fourth and final trick, I will need another volunteer. Don't worry, if anything goes wrong it's bound to be me that suffers! Ha ha ha."

This line got a good response, and all might have been well except for an unfortunate piece of timing. At this very moment, a team of assistants entered at stage left pushing a large box with thin slits in the side, while a trolley appeared on the right laden with what were plainly swords. The crowd went quiet.

"Oh, these? Just some, er, razor-sharp swords. Nothing to worry about, honestly."

You could hear a pin drop now, as every single person in the audience did their best to avoid even looking like a potential volunteer. Watching Alice mess up her tricks was fun when she was the victim, but those swords looked sharp.

Charles stood up.

"I'll be the volunteer," he said in what he hoped was a confident voice. Whatever was causing her to blunder, he felt sure, wasn't going to hurt him, and he was determined to find out how she was pulling off these incredible effects. But that didn't stop him feeling a little nervous about being turned into a kebab.

"A big round of applause for Mr..."

THINK OF A NAME THINK OF A NAME THINK OF A NAME

"Van Damme. Cletus Van Damme."

GODDAMIT!

The setup for the trick was standard stuff. Charles was strapped into a coffin-sized box with openings for his head and feet, and then

SHING SHING SHING

those vicious swords were jammed into the sides. He played along by pulling anguished faces when they went in, but obviously none of them touched him.

"Our brave volunteer will now be sawn in half!"

This could go very wrong indeed. While the box was pivoted to lie flat and Charles wondered if his will was up to date, Alice flourished a comically gigantic saw. She made a big show of sawing through the box, doing a good job of making it look difficult when she was 'cutting through' the volunteer. She wasn't fundamentally bad at stagecraft, Charles reflected, just error-prone. The two parts of the box were separated and moved apart, and the crowd applauded. She had got a trick right!

"And now for the big finish," the pretty magician cried exultantly. "Watch carefully!"

The two halves of the box were reunited, and the whole thing lifted back to the vertical. The little doors to the openings were closed, and Charles was in darkness. Then there was a flash of light, and he was -

He was -

He was looking at the box

from the outside

. He was looking at the door that had just closed over his face, but he could see its handle and the bolt the magician had just used to secure it.

He had been transported, instantly, from inside to outside the box. And he had taken Alice's place. How on earth had she done that?

More to the point, what was he supposed to do now? He was now wearing the magician's cloak, he realised, and because he was facing away from the audience, they didn't yet know what had happened. Was he supposed to take over the presentation of the trick? Did Alice know he was in the business? He couldn't see an alternative, so he turned slowly to face the audience, and pulled back the cowl. There was a gasp, a shocked silence, and then thunderous applause.

This was the greatest magic trick Charles had ever witnessed. It was stunning, and he had absolutely no idea how Alice had pulled it off. Talking of which, where was she?

Of course: she must be in the box.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Charles called out in his naturally projecting baritone. Now he had escaped the swords, its full confident tone had returned. "I think we have all witnessed something very special tonight. Another round of applause, please, for The Amazing Alice!"

There were whoops, there were cheers, there was general pandemonium.

"I am but a humble volunteer, so I don't know any better than you do where our talented magician has disappeared to. But I'm guessing it has something to do with this mysterious box I was in just a few seconds ago. Should I open it, do you think?"

The crowd let Charles know that this was definitely the right course of action.

"Very well. Let's just open this little door up here..."

He undid the bolt, and pulled back the door. And there, looking back at him, was -

Yes, it was Alice. It was Alice's pretty face, bright green eyes and all. For a moment he sighed and enjoyed the sight of her. And then his eyes dropped lower and he realised: she was gagged. There was a knotted length of white cloth between her teeth, pulled tight and evidently secured around the back of her neck, and she was struggling to speak through it.

"Llmmmpphh mmpphh ouummmmppphh!"

Charles's natural gallantry kicked in, and he hurried to throw open the main door of the box so she could step out and take that embarrassing and thoroughly muffling gag out of her mouth. But when the door was open it became apparent to him - and to the entire delighted audience - that Alice was not merely gagged. She was bound hand and foot.

Again, it took a moment for Charles to take in the details.

Alice's hands, first of all, could not be seen, but her arms were obviously held somehow behind her back. From the uncomfortable-looking position of her shoulders and the way her breasts were thrust forward he suspected that they were bound very cruelly indeed: perhaps her elbows had been trussed together for good measure, or perhaps a reverse prayer had been employed. (A pioneer of escapology theory, Charles was well aware of the rudiments of bondage.) What could be seen was that thin cord encircled the poor girl's torso above and below, and indeed around and between, her breasts, and kept her upper body pinioned in an inescapable rope cage biting into her pale skin. Below, her shapely legs were bound tightly at ankle, calf, knee and thigh, and a further cord proceeding from a loop about her waist and disappearing down between her thighs hinted at more intimate torments. And along with all of this, the original straps that had previously held Charles now held the magician rigidly in place, standing ramrod straight in the confines of the box.

As if all this were not humiliation enough, Alice's clothes had repeated their vanishing act from the previous tricks. Aside from the cloak now adorning Charles's shoulders, her golden tuxedo was gone, as were the white shirt, the top hat, the red bra, and the microscopic red panties. The bound girl was standing there in a gold bow tie, a pair of stilettos, and a blush the size of Wales.

"Nnnnttnnmm mmphpphh ymm idddiommmmpphh!"

Charles realised with a touch of shame that he had not been paying attention, his gaze drifting to the creamy expanse of Alice's glorious pale tits and particularly her fine erect nipples; it was almost impossible to resist the urge to reach out and give them a little tweak, but he managed it somehow. It was at this point that he noticed the small white rabbit peeping out from behind Alice's legs, and then tentatively hopping out. When the audience noticed this they were delighted, and roared with laughter. Charles interpreted the creature's appearance very differently.

"Well I'll be damned," he thought. "The girl pulled off all four tricks after all. Well, sort of."

This was little consolation to Alice. The poor helpless magician mmmpphhhed and mewled furiously, demanding to be released, but the audience, cheering and laughing and hooting, made it clear this was not what they wanted. A few of the bolder young men from the front row surged up on stage and started taking selfies with the humiliated performer as she bucked and strained against her bonds and did her best to tell them off through the gag - neither to any great effect. Charles wasn't particularly up to date with social media, but he could see they were uploading photos and videos to a bunch of the usual sites: Twitter, TikTok, YouTube, Instagram...

Charles didn't think of himself as a particularly moral man, in fact he wasn't aware of possessing a moral compass at all, but even he could see this was unjust. The poor thing had done her best to entertain them, had courageously returned time and time again after experiencing deep humiliation, and had in fact performed a number of effects that he, a magician of many years' experience, could not explain. And yet they were treating her like this. It simply wasn't on.

"Leave her alone!" he bellowed, pushing and shoving the youngsters down the steps and away from the stage. "Get out!"

Before long the room was empty, with the exception of the two magicians. He walked slowly back up on to the stage, shook his head sadly, and delicately removed the sodden gag from Alice's mouth.

"That went a bit wrong, my girl," he said.

"I know. It always does. I don't know what I'm doing wrong."

"To comment on that, I'd need to know the details of the trick you're attempting. I couldn't follow the methods at all. How did you get from one wardrobe to the other?"

"Well..." Alice looked confused. "I don't actually know. I walk through one door, think about the other really hard, and it just sort of... happens."

"Ah." Charles smiled. "I had a feeling that was the case. I've known a few like you. I think I might be able to help you."

Alice wriggled a little, and blushed again.

"The only help I need from you, sir, is to release me from these bonds."

"I'll make you a deal. I'll untie you, and teach you how to control your abilities, if you agree to join my organisation. It's not quite showbiz, in fact nobody knows who we are, but it's worthwhile in its own way."

"You expect me to sign up to an organisation without telling me anything about it?"

"That's the way it needs to be, I'm afraid. Either you sign a contract to work with me for the next two years, or I place the gag back in your mouth and leave you like this. What do you say?"

Alice looked thoughtful for a moment, pondering the deluge of notifications she could expect the next time she checked her phone.

"Have they got the internet where you work?"

"Yes, but because of confidentiality there's a block on social media."

She smiled. "In that case, I'm in."

FIN