HELP WANTED!
Entertainer/magician is
looking for a stagehand
for his act.
Call XXX-XXXX
Short and to the point. Didn’t even mention how much he paid. Still, Sergei was desperate enough to at least reach out. Never been a stagehand before, but how hard could it be?
“Yes?”
“Hey, man. I’m calling about the ad thing? The…”
“The stagehand job. Do you have experience?” The deep voice on the other side of the line was cold and curt, giving him pause.
“I, ah… Yeah, of course!” The lie came easily to Sergei’s lips.
“I require someone to do some heavy lifting, some of my equipment weighs quite a bit. Am I correct in assuming you have the necessary upper body strength?” The man sounded impatient. There was something about his tone that rubbed Sergei the wrong way but things were starting to look tight, moneywise. If he had to deal with a grouchy old man to get some money, so be it.
“Right, no issue there. I’m 25, and I’m at the gym all the time, so yeah, pretty fit! I can deadlift-”
“That’s enough.” The man rudely interrupted him. Sergei stopped, annoyed. For once he had not been lying and actually was looking forward to bragging about one of his few strengths. While he was short and stocky he had more muscle than fat, his thickset body complemented by his boyish face. He had practiced wrestling in high school although these days he was more fond of lifting weights in the gym, one of the few expenses he allowed himself. He kept his blonde hair short and his face bare, something that had proven popular with the girls (and women!) around him. He had come to learn the power of a practiced coy smile to get people on his side.
“Send a photo to this number,” the man continued in a bored tone. “I’ll judge if you’re fit for the task. If you are, I will send you the information for the event, where to meet and the compensation. Don’t be late”.
Before Sergei could think of anything to say the line went dead. Didn’t even bother saying goodbye. Whatever, Sergei thought. If dealing with a rude old man was the worst of it he would be pretty damn OK.
Still, the uneasiness persisted. He briefly wondered what he had gotten himself into.
*
The van driven by the magician stopped in front of a luxurious place, much nicer than what Sergei had expected.
It wasn’t a house, not really. An enormous garden separated the area in-between the entrance gate and the building, covered in carefully trimmed shrubs and a hedge on the limits of the property. The place itself covered a huge area and had to be several stories high. Sergei, in the passenger’s seat, had been surprised when he saw the neighborhood they had approached; he had been aware the area was affluent, but he was still unprepared by the sheer opulence of the place.
In the few hours since he had met the magician while loading the equipment in his warehouse, Sergei had had plenty of time to wonder if the man wasn’t involved in shady business. While the young man had no complaints that he was being paid in cash, his employer had been cagey about the details of the job and outright refused to say where it was located. Instead, he told him his job was to shut up and carry his things around as he ordered.
Sergei observed in silence from the passenger’s seat as the magician rolled down his window to talk to the guard at the front gate. A part of him expected them to be turned away, but they were actually granted access and given directions as to where they should park. Following the indicated route they approached the mansion not from the main entrance but from a small, unremarkable path that led to a garage door on the side of the building.
His employer climbed down from the van and immediately began barking at him to unload the equipment from the car. The dislike he had felt for the man on the phone had only increased since meeting him in person. A man of few words who seemed to be in his mid-fifties, he was tall and lanky, with thin, stringy hair parted in the middle and a long, not-quite-well-kept gray beard. Sergei had not seen him smile once in the short time since he had met him, his thick eyebrows in a perpetual frown that accentuated the wrinkles under his eyes. At the moment he was wearing an ill-fitting three-piece suit with a bowtie; it seemed the jacket used to be black but constant use had faded its colors to a dull gray.
Unloading the equipment was only marginally faster than what it had taken him to load it on the van, back at the magician’s place; the stuff was not only heavy but also cumbersome, making it hard for him to do on his own. Once everything had been set on the ground, the magician ordered him to carry inside whatever equipment he could.
They were led by a servant through a long hallway, past several closed doors and into a great dining room full of empty tables. A stage at the back of the room had been temporarily set up in the back. The stage, clearly not a fixture of the room, dominated the back wall of the great room. It had an elevated platform that allowed everyone in the room to clearly see whoever was on it and a big red curtain in the foreground. Small stairs on the sides lead to the platform. Sergei carried the equipment up the stairs with great difficulty.
It took him several more trips to the van to get the whole equipment on stage, if only because some of it had been unwieldy, and by then he was covered in sweat. He finally finished carrying and unloading the equipment on stage under the barking of instructions of the man before he was waved away, his employer clearly intent on preparing the equipment by himself. Sergeant noticed the man’s eyebrows were knitted together so closely they almost touched as he worked on the equipment and looked at his watch in increasing annoyance as the minutes passed.
His job done for now, Sergei sat on the stairs to the stage; a couple of hours of respite before he would have to carry it all back after the end of the show. In the meantime, an increasing number of voices could be heard in the room; he took a peek behind the side curtains and saw that the great hall was starting to fill with guests. More and more men came through the main doors, an indistinguishable murmur echoing through the walls; they were mostly old and, Sergei noted, they were all men. As he saw them taking their places at the round tables he felt himself being pulled away by the surprisingly strong arm of the tall older man. He was seething, his eyes cold.
“He is not coming, that is clear now. I did not foresee this. You will be my assistant today, instead”, said the man. It wasn’t a question.
Sergei looked at him, dumbfounded. “Yeah, that’s not gonna happen. I was paid to carry things, that’s what I’m doing. Sucks your assistant didn’t show up but that’s not…”
“You will be paid his part on top of what I am already paying you”, the man interrupted him. “That is more than double what you were going to earn tonight. So shut up and come.”
“More than…? I don’t know the first thing about magic tricks!”, Sergei said as he was pulled to one of the trunks he had helped unload. The man opened it and began rummaging, all but ignoring the young worker’s protests until he finally fished out a white shirt and a two-piece suit that was even more wrinkled than the one the man was wearing. He pushed it against Sergei’s chest wordlessly.
Suit pressed against him, Sergei considered his options. He wasn’t nervous about the audience, and besides, so what if the whole thing fell apart because of his inexperience? He was still getting paid, it was not his reputation on the line.
“Where can I change?”, he asked, finally taking the suit. He wished he could at least take a quick shower, suddenly self-conscious of how sweaty he was.
“Right here. Do it fast”, replied the magician. Sergei looked at the man and, annoyed, started undressing down to his boxer briefs, shielded from the audience by the curtains at the sides of the stage; if he had turned he would have seen some men at a table at the edge of the room watching him with great intensity.
The pants were a tight fit, his boxers bunched up; the man barked at him to take them off and for a second Sergei considered walking away for this. Yet the promise of monetary compensation made him stare at the magician in a challenging way as he dropped both the trousers and boxers in one fell swoop, unashamed. Sergei would have been furious, had he noticed that behind him the men on the table continued to leer at his hairless muscular ass.
Tossing his boxers aside he wore the pants sans underwear, this time managing to barely squeeze into them, the back tightly hugging his backside. The shirt and jacket were also clearly meant for a smaller man; he was worried that if he took a deep breath buttons would start flying off. All the while, the magician was hurrying him up and giving last-minute instructions.
“You will not be doing anything at all. I am the one who will be doing the magic, and you will follow my instructions. Your role has not changed. Just shut up and obey”.
Finally, the man grabbed a black hat and climbed to the stage, standing in the middle of it. He straightened his back, puffed out his chest and signaled Sergei to pull on the curtain. As they opened the murmurs of the crowd began to die down and he was received with a round of polite applause.
“Good evening!”, the magician said with a big smile as he faced the crowd. He seemed to transform into a completely different persona: gone was the odious, sneering man Sergei had known, and in front of him was a confident, cheerful entertainer. “Good evening, good evening, my dear gentlemen! My name is the Great Rasputin, and tonight, it is with great pleasure that I’ll be providing your entertainment!”
The man bowed down and took out his hat to the audience with an exaggerated gesture while the audience continued to clap.
“I say I shall provide your entertainment, but for those of you who have seen my show before know that’s not quite true. No, not at all… instead, please help me welcome my assistant for today’s show!”, he extended an arm in the direction of Sergei, who understood it was his cue to join him on stage.
Despite his self-assuredness a moment prior, Sergei felt a pang of nervousness as he walked towards the central stage amid the applause of the crowd. Standing next to the magician he quickly and slightly bowed his head to the crowd; he screened the crowd and confirmed his previous assessment that only men were there, and hardly anyone looked under 60.
“Well, gentlemen, what do you say we begin tonight’s evening with a little bit of classic magic?”, asked Rasputin. “And when I say that, I mean the kind of magic you’ve all seen… the one that has been popularized nowadays in books and films. But I ask you this, how many of you have actually held in your hands… this famous little thing?”
Rasputin removed his hat and, reaching inside, produced a crudely made straw doll. It was dressed in a simple black cloth and had mismatched buttons as eyes.
“Yes… you all know voodoo dolls, don’t you? I don’t think this kind of magic artifact really needs an explanation. Yet a voodoo doll by itself is just that: a doll”. The man walked around the stage as he explained while Sergei stood awkwardly. Why was he needed again? “I do think we need something else to show off the magic here… a little something like… this!”
From behind him the magician swiftly pulled on Sergei’s blond hair without warning, eliciting a surprised yelp from him. He turned to face him, furious.
“What the FUCK is your problem?”, he muttered, ignoring the audience. The magician seemed to pay him no attention as he carefully inserted a strand of hair into the doll while muttering something to himself. Sergei was seething. Before he knew it he was already walking to the edge of the stage. Did that man think he was going to play along in his little show? Now it seemed clear to him why his employer had been vague on the details, but he wasn’t about to take it on the chin. And he better still pay what he was promi-
Sergei froze. It took him a second to process that his body wasn’t responding to him.
“What the hell…?” he gasped, turning his head. That, however, seemed to be the entirety of his control over his body: his hands, his legs, nothing seemed to respond but for his neck and head. He turned around and saw the magician raising the voodoo doll towards the audience, triumphantly. The audience clapped, enthused.
“What’s going on? What are you doing? What the fuck did you do to me? Let me go, you motherfucker!” Sergei hurled insult after insult towards the man, who once again ignored him. Sergei turned towards the audience to ask for help but the protest died in his throat as he saw the way many of them were staring at him. He felt a dark pit in his stomach as he saw their positively gleeful expressions of excitement.
“And that, my dear gentlemen, is the actual power of the voodoo doll… a power that should not be taken lightly, as my young assistant can now attest to. In the wrong hands, of course, this kind of magic could be used for very bad purposes”, he gave a sardonic smile to his audience, who laughed and clapped. What the fuck is going on, thought Sergei in shock once more.
He felt himself suddenly turning back and walking towards the magician against his will. He saw the way the man manipulated the doll to force him to do so.
“You motherfucker… I’ll fucking kill you, I’ll…!”, Sergei’s mouth suddenly stopped and closed. He tried to continue cursing but he could not open his mouth. What the hell?
“I did say to shut up”, the magician coldly told him in a voice low enough that no one else could hear. From the corner of his eye, Sergei saw the voodoo doll now sported black tape on its mouth, something that had not been there before. He tried to once again curse at him, but the man paid no heed to his unintelligible grunts. Like a switch, he turned his smile back on and turned to face the audience.
“Now, I don’t expect you, my dear audience, to take my word for the power now controlling my young assistant”, the magician jovially said. “We need a volunteer… How about you, the gentleman on that table? Yes, please approach the stage, no need to come up.”
A bald, fat man approached the front of the stage. Sergei saw with great disgust the barely contained glee of the man. By now he was sure they all knew his predicament was real; they not only didn’t care, they reveled in it.
The magician bent down and gave the doll to the man below the stage, who wasted no time in manipulating its extremities and, by proxy, Sergei’s. He was forced to clumsily walk around, alternating between raising his arms and marching awkwardly on stage. He found himself turning his back to the audience and starting to move his hips, which earned him many hoots, claps, and laughs from the increasingly excited crowd.
“Mmm!! Mmm!!” Sergei pathetically tried yelling at the man, who ignored him and kept playing with the doll much to the delight of most everyone present. His tight clothing felt particularly constrictive and he found himself beginning to sweat as he moved on stage.
As the man became more familiar with the doll he began moving Sergei with more precise motions. He proceeded to make him perform what could only be described as a parody of a dance, moving his hips to invisible music, and swinging his arms wildly from side to side. He was forced to turn back against the audience and, much to his horror, started shaking his ass. He felt himself go hot under the collar as the man forced him to move it up and down, crudely slapping his own backside.
It happened when, in a sudden movement, he was forced to drop down into a squat, arch his back and stick his ass out towards the audience. He knew it would happen a second before it did: a ripping sound as a thread gave way and his tight pants burst open from behind, exposing his bare ass to the audience due to his lack of underwear. What was worse, the squat meant he was wide open to an audience of dozens of men.
For a moment it felt as if time froze, Sergei stuck in the awful position of arched back mid-squat as everyone stared at him, and the next moment everyone in the audience was hooting and hollering. He was trying to will his body to react, to stand up or at least to cover up but legs and hands remained stubbornly unresponsive. The only part he could was his neck, and when he turned to look at the audience he wished he hadn’t: confronted by what seemed to be a sea of lustful men clearly excited to see his most private parts exposed he felt himself more vulnerable than he had ever been in his life. He tried to say something, to curse at them or order them to look away, but his mouth refused to open. The moment extended and the tear on the back of his trousers was only getting bigger and bigger to the point that his dick and balls flopped out unceremoniously, much to his consternation.
“Ah, it seems my little assistant has had a wardrobe malfunction. I must apologize on his behalf for his obscenity, dear audience… but I will allow him to do it himself, instead”, said the magician, leaning down to take the doll from the man. Sergei felt himself being forced back up and turned to face the audience, still unable to cover his now bare genitals. He was proud of his member, and never had he wasted a chance to send pictures of it to potential suitors (requested or not), but this was different… he felt embarrassed at the leering men and what was worst, his own dick reacted by shrinking in fear, further emasculating him. He wanted to yell at the perverts and yet his mouth did not move… until it suddenly did, although no word came out.
For a moment Sergei stood in the center of the stage, mouth agape and his cock and balls hanging obscenely from his torn pants with all eyes on him. Then his mouth started to move and words seemed to come out of him, but those words were not his.
“I am sorry, Sirs! My so-called manhood has slipped out of its enclosure and for that, I am truly sorry! I am sorry, also, because you had to witness my pink, virgin rosebud!” Sergei blinked, stunned, as the words echoed through the room. There was much chuckling from the audience as Sergei turned to see the corners of the magician’s mouth barely move as the voice pretending to be him continued. “I hope my body will continue to entertain and amuse you fine gentlemen this enchanting evening. I am but a dirty dog that Master Rasputin has saved, and it is truly an honor to serve him, stupid as I am!”
More laughter and applause followed his supposed words. Sergei felt sick to the stomach. This was too much… being used as a ventriloquist dummy for the amusement of rich bastards. He felt mad, but other emotions were swelling up inside him, ones of shame and frustration. He had never felt so humiliated and helpless in his entire life.
“Well said, well said!” the magician took a step forward next to Sergei as the audience clapped. “Well, if you are indeed sorry about your sad and tawdry display then we can proceed with our show! Now, tonight my obedient assistant is pulling double duty as my stagehand as well as assisting in the tricks, so let’s allow him to bring in the next bit of equipment!”
As the man spoke, Sergei felt himself compelled to move, noticing the man was no longer holding the doll; he wondered if he had actually ever needed it to move him in the first place as he was forced to bring to the stage a metallic ring suspended in the air by a pole connected to a base with wheels. He had seen the magician assemble it not half an hour ago, unsuspecting it would eventually be used on him.
“You may have seen a ring such as this one in other places, a circus, perhaps”, continued the man. “Yet it’s missing something… like this!”
He snapped his fingers and pointed to the ring, which immediately seemed to explode in flames. Sergei’s eyes opened wide as he felt the heat emanating from the ring, now covered by a crepitating fire. He cursed inwardly and desperately tried to will his feet to run away from the madman and his sick games.
“Now that the equipment is ready, it’s time, my dear gentlemen, for our next part. As you can see, this is a perfectly normal, everyday, fire-covered ring,” he paused for a second as some in the audience snickered. “However, not everything is what it seems and you can be surprised by what you can find on the other side. Perhaps our lovely assistant will be brave enough to jump through it and discover its secrets?”
Sergei sweat bullets as his body was manipulated to face the ring. His muted protests were unheard by everyone, his body betraying him as he took position on one end of the stage, muscles tense like an acrobat about to perform a feat of strength. While the ring did seem to be wide enough to fit his muscular, stocky frame, the flames filled him with dread.
He continued his attempts at protest even as his body tensed up and began running towards the ring. The audience held their breath as Sergei approached the ring and he, scared witless, closed his eyes as he felt himself forced to jump in a dive roll through the licking red flames.
A warm sensation, a tumble, and before he knew it he was standing back up, eyes still closed. Sergei could hear his own beating heart thumping hard in his ears as he tried to recover from the shock. He was fine, he felt unharmed. Still, he kept his eyes closed as he tried to normalize his breathing.
It still took him a few moments before he heard the cacophony of laughter filling the room. He opened his eyes and saw the men laughing even harder than before, and as he saw one of them wheezing and clutching his stomach from the laughter he felt his fear being replaced by a bubbling, blinding rage.
The rage, in turn, transformed into stunned shock as he noticed his outfit.
The too-tight, torn-at-the-crotch, two-piece suit was completely gone alongside his white shirt. Instead, he was wearing a black pair of lacy panties. His not-so-small bulge looked obscene in the tiny, feminine, delicate underwear. On his neck he sported a bowtie, while a tight V-shaped vest hugged his chest and showed off his impressive pecs squeezed uncomfortably together. On top of that were fishnet tights that could barely contain his massive calves. He stared down, incredulous, at his new attire as some of the men in the audience wolf-whistled at him.
“Now take a look at my lovely assistant! I’m sure you all agree this look fits him better, he’s really starting to look the part,” said the man to roaring approval. “Come on, don’t be shy. Give us a spin!”
Sergei’s cheeks began to redden as he twirled for the whooping crowd. Even with clothing he now felt even more exposed than when he had been showing his bare genitals, if only because of the obscene way the attire clung to his skin and showed off his curves in such a feminine way. Accentuating all of it was the way the entire audience seemed to ogle, laughing raucously and making obscene gestures at him. A new sensation hitherto unknown to him began forming inside of him: he felt exposed. He closed his eyes and looked away. He felt uncomfortable facing the men in the crowd.
“Seems that my dear assistant has finally decided to show us some more of his, let’s say, lovely attributes,” the man smiled wryly as he said it.
“FUCK YOU!” snarled Sergei. For a few seconds he stared at the magician, angrily, until he realized he had said it out loud. He could talk! Whatever control the man had held over his speech was gone, although his extremities were still unresponsive.
“Ah, it seems he has found his tongue. All the better, so he can tell us all about how he’s finding his experience thus far.” The magician did not seem alarmed at Sergei’s sudden outburst. “Tell us, is this outfit to your liking? I must say it really accentuates your curves.”
“Fuck you!” repeated the young man. His cheeks felt on fire. He wanted nothing more than to hide and could hardly think of a more intelligent response.
“Oh, is that a no? That’s too bad. I would say you’re very popular with our public. But I am sure we can further try some new looks on you” He snapped his fingers, and the ring of fire that he had previously jumped through extinguished instantly. “Let us do that by further exploring the secrets of this ring”.
The young man’s legs moved on their own, one foot in front of the other, swaying his scantily-clad hips side to side. He cringed, red-faced, at his own gait. He unwillingly bent over with straight legs and raised ass to remove the break from the base of the now unlit ring and yelped as the man hit his ass with an open palm, hard. “OW! What the fuck’s your problem, you bastard??”
“As I mentioned before, dear gentlemen, this ring is no ordinary ring! Its secrets are unknown, even to me! But my lovely assistant has once more offered his services in exploring them. Please! Give him a big round of applause as he does!”
“Like hell I will! Let me go, you sick fuck!” But his words held no weight. He grabbed the surprisingly cool metallic ring and exhibited it around for the audience’s sake as if to show there was nothing abnormal about it. He finished by raising it horizontally above his head with both hands.
“What the hell are you planning to-”
“So let us see what is on the other side!”
Sergei let go of the ring and it dropped to the ground with a loud ‘CLANG!’. Almost immediately he felt a breeze in his nether regions and gasped as he saw himself completely naked.
“Motherfucker!!” Yet his hands remained stubbornly unresponsive as he tried in vain to cover his groin. He was generally not a bashful person, but then again he had never been naked in front of an audience. His thick cock, nested in bushy blond pubes, was plainly visible for all to see.
“Ah, it seems the ring has gone a bit too far in its outfit for my dear assistant. But he does not seem to mind; come on, show off what you got!” And so despite his protests, he strutted to the edge of the stage, shaking his ass as he did. The comments by the increasingly rowdy crowd inflamed Sergei, but when he found himself turning his ass towards the audience he felt alarmed instead.
“W-what are you doing? Stop this… stop this!” He felt himself bending his knees slightly, sticking his ass out. Gingerly, almost teasingly, he rubbed a hand on his exposed backside, giving it a playful spank. “No… don’t!” He grabbed his asscheeks with both hands and opened up to the audience, exposing his pink, virgin asshole as he rubbed it obscenely up and down with a finger. He grimaced, lowering his head.
“I must say I am as shocked as you are, dear audience! I would not have expected my young assistant to be such a pervert! Look at how excited he is while showing off so indecently!”
“Huh?” Sergei opened his eyes and noticed his cock had started going stiff. He was flabbergasted and appalled at the unexpected reaction as he felt no sexual thrill in the slightest, and yet his member twitched and throbbed in apparent desire, a thin rope of precum dangling from his cockhead. “How is-? Stop fuckin’ with me!! I’ll kill you!!”
“It would seem this young man is quite the degenerate, getting off on showing his nude body… he’s definitely relishing all this attention! Come on, stand up and show everyone your obscene virility, you dirty pervert!” Sergei stood up firm with his hands on his neck facing the audience, his now completely erect mast in full display. The obscenities he desperately yelled were drowned by the excited onlookers, who made it clear their approval of this new development. “But despite his giddiness, I’m afraid I will have to put my feet down. Such a vulgar display does not belong in a proper show like this. Perhaps, gentlemen, I ought to take matters into my own hands. Perhaps I ought to censor things myself.”
Rapustin the magician took off his hat and reached inside, pulling out a red handkerchief as he did. He presented it to the audience and, grabbing the upper corners with one hand each, shielded the erect rod of his hapless assistant from view. Counting to three, he removed it with a flourish only to reveal (to his victim’s horror) that his thick, curly pubes had completely disappeared, leaving him bare below.
“What the fuck did you do to me?” He yelled, horrified. He had never shaved his pubes and hated the way his naked groin looked, like less of a man in his own eyes.
“Oh, dear, it seems that was not quite it. Let us try that again.” Once more the magician grabbed the handkerchief, but this time he placed it on top of Sergei’s involuntary hard-on, the soft cloth suspended in the air by it. Muttering under his breath, he gave a quick, hard tap on the barely covered member and it seemingly began to deflate, the cloth drooping and slowly sliding down until it completely fell to the floor of the stage, no longer supported by the dick.
Sergei’s eyes bulged out.
His erection was gone. But so was a good portion of his sizable member. The change was striking: while a moment ago he had sported a thick, above-average cock it was now a soft, thin, tiny prick barely visible even in his newly-shaven state.
Ever since he had gone through puberty Sergei knew what he had was something not all men did. He was not bashful about it: on the contrary, he wasted no chance to whip it out while messing with friends, shoving it in their faces in the name of a “joke” or constantly referring to it. In the locker rooms, he loved to strut around, feeling a thrill each time he noticed others looking at it in envy or disbelief and joking at their expense. But now… his manhood was reduced to almost nothing.
He continued staring at it in stunned silence as the room around him exploded in laughter. His mind was still trying to comprehend what was happening, and a part of him, still in denial, tried to convince himself that what he was seeing had to be a trick, an illusion. As if reading his mind, the magician raised the tip of his newly resized penis with the tip of his pinky and he was shocked as he felt the warm touch, making it hard to deny that what he saw was real. Much to his chagrin, the tiny prick slightly trembled and quickly came alive, hardening, but hardly getting any bigger.
“What… what did you do to me? What did you do to my cock?” His tone was not aggressive but fearful. His mind whirled, thinking what it would mean for him if his dick remained shrunken. Would he even be able to fuck? How could he show his face at the gym? How would he be able to show his face to anyone, really? He felt dizzy, the room seemed to spin around him and all he could hear was the laughter. He looked up and saw their faces, a sea of strangers laughing and mocking him for his inadequacy. He couldn’t move for his spot, couldn’t hide his source of shame as his own pride shattered to pieces underneath his feet. He opened his mouth, not knowing what would come out.
“Don’t… don’t look at me you freaks!! Stop! S-stop it!!” To his horror, his voice quavered and he felt an unfamiliar sting in his eyes. The realization of what he was feeling somehow made it worse. Oh fuck, please no, he thought to himself as he closed his eyelids shut trying to push back on the prickling sensation. No way, no way he was gonna cry in front of a bunch of strangers as they laughed at his exposed, minuscule dick, but the more he fought back the worse the feeling was.
He whimpered, trying to swallow down the knot he felt in his throat but it was no good: his shoulders began to shake in silent sobs. He opened his mouth to say something else but started sobbing instead and, like an open floodgate, the tears came out streaming down his cheeks, further shattering what remained of his fleeting confidence. He was quickly becoming a whimpering mess, an embarrassment of a man. He wouldn’t have recognized the man on stage a few hours ago, a pathetic, crying man with a sad excuse for a penis, but that’s what he was to his own eyes at that moment. The audience, far from sympathizing with him, seemed to find it immensely amusing.
“Such a pathetic specimen of a man, if he can even be called that,” the presenter said with a sad shake of his head. “I must apologize on his behalf, dear audience!”
“Please!” Sergei managed, begging pathetically in between sobs “Please! Don’t… don’t leave me like this!!”
The grin on the man’s face widened. “Now, now, that’s unbecoming of you, my dear assistant. Don’t believe me a heartless man. I will revert it, naturally, but you will have to promise you’ll obey me from now on, at least until the end of our act. It’s all you ever needed to do: obey”
“Y-yes!,” he hiccuped, blinking hard due to the tears still in the corners of his eyes. He was dry heaving, trying to get his breathing back in control. “I’ll- I’ll obey! Just please! PLEASE! Turn it back! Turn it back!”
“All right, my good gentlemen, now let us see if my powers are indeed enough to turn my dear assistant’s appendage back to its previous state!” This time, the magician took out a different handkerchief from his hat, a green one, and used it to hold on to Sergei’s shrunken genitals. He grabbed onto them none-too-gently and squeezed, drawing a whimper from the young man. The older man gave it a hard tug and Sergei cried in pain; the movement was repeated a few more times and he felt he would pass out from the pain, fresh tears in his eyes from it, but when he was finally released he looked down to see the handkerchief gliding off his restored penis. His pubes were still gone, but his penis was (as far as he could see) whole once more.
During the applause, Sergei tried to normalize his breathing. He felt pathetic, having been made to cry like that in front of others. He had to get away, somehow. But the man was unpredictable, that much was clear. So he would pretend to play along and gain his trust; maybe if he bided his time an opportunity for an escape would present itself.
“Thank you, thank you, you are too kind, my dear audience. Now, let’s move forward to an absolute classic! I believe all of you are already familiar with this old hat,” the man removed his top hat and showed its empty inside to the public. “But I do believe I left someone here inside…”
The man reached inside as if it were a bag, his arm appearing to be inside more than physically possible until he seemed to find what he was fishing for. With a grin, he began to pull out the ears of a white rabbit but the rest of the animal seemed to be stuck. He pretended to make an effort to pull them out until they finally did, revealing that the ears were just connected to a headband.
“Well… this is embarrassing, my dear audience! I don’t know what happened to the rest of the white rabbit. Ah! But perhaps, we have a bunny already! Please, everyone, let’s give a hand to my multi-faceted assistant!” The man placed the white bunny ears on top of Sergei, who grimaced.
“That’s a good start, but not enough for our bunny… ah, I know! There you go, bunny, place your hands here,” the man presented the upside-down hat in front of a frowning Sergei. He knew, somehow, his hands were again under his control. Was he testing him? Or was it just a way to rub in his face that there was nothing he could really do? In either case, he knew the time for his escape was not right, not with him watching intently. So he placed his hands on the hat, and when they came out he was wearing cartoonish paw-like mittens in them.
“Amazing. Just one more thing, then!” The man patted Sergei on his lower back and he immediately dropped to his haunches, his hands automatically raised like paws in front of him. He looked back and saw that a fluffy cotton tail had been affixed somewhere above his tailbone.
Something was different, Sergei knew immediately. While he was forced into this rabbit-like position he was otherwise in full control of his movement once more. He looked up to see the man basking in the applause with his back towards him and, making a decision, made a run for the edge of the stage… except that he wasn’t running. He was hopping, his dick swinging wildly around with each jump. Undaunted, he raced off the stage.
But as he hopped and hopped around the stage he blinked in confusion. As much as he tried he never seemed to reach the end of it. Indeed, try as he might, it appeared as if it was as far as ever. Not helping matters was the audience’s laughter as he jumped around; listening to them one might think nothing could ever be as funny. Still, he kept at it, hopping desperately in what seemed to be circles.
“Such a cute little bunny rabbit! And so unique too! But gentleman, I did not just bring this bunny tonight so you could all bask in its cuteness. This white rabbit, you see, possesses a rather unusual quality… only seen by the Easter rabbit itself. Observe!”
“What are you-? Guh!” Sergei felt a pang in his gut. He made a face as he felt something moving inside of him; he squirmed, uncomfortable, bringing his paw-like hands to his stomach. “What… did you do to me, bastard?”
Still squatting he moved around trying to find release from the pressure he felt inside of him. He closed his eyes and moved around, groaning. He arched his back as he felt the pressure build-up: something was coming out of him, whether he wanted or not.
The audience saw the young man inadvertently turn his back towards them and heave as his anus puckered slightly. Something baby blue peeped from inside, just for an instant in the beginning but more and more as his asshole began to dilate, showing what looked like a hand-painted Easter egg.
“Eaugh!” Sergei yowled as he tried to keep his ass closed. It was a losing battle. The tip of the egg started to poke out and eventually, he was forced to admit, red-faced, that it had no way but out. Keeping his eyes closed and firmly away from the audience he grunted and pushed but try as he might he could not ignore all the eyes on him as he was forced to lay an egg. Little by little his asshole began to expand to expel the ovoid; he felt his face grow hot from both the exertion and the exposure but at the moment all that mattered was that he expelled the foreign object inside of him. It was close… he could feel it, just a little bit more…!
He gasped and felt a shiver as the pastel-colored egg completely exited his rectum and finally fell into a basket the magician had placed beneath him without him noticing. He panted, trying to recover his breath. But then he felt another, similar sensation in his stomach.
“Not again!” he yelled, horrified. This time the egg seemed to come out a little bit faster than before, his anal walls already expanded by the previous one, yet still he had a hard time pushing it out, grunting and groaning.
“Seems this muscle bunny has more in him! Let’s see how many more he can produce!” said the magician with an evil gleam in his eye.
Sergei was forced to lay egg after egg in front of a captive audience, all the while the man held a hand on his shoulder and cracked jokes at his expense to the delight of the spectators. While none of them were as hard as the first one, by the fourth one he felt sore and drained.
“No… no more, please, no more,” saliva dripped from his chin as he begged weakly. And yet he felt there was still more inside of him, pushing, one after the other. He lost count of how many he laid, but at a certain point he realized this was, finally, the last one. With one final grunt, the egg fell to the basket and as soon as it did he fell forward on all fours, free of his invisible bondage at the same time that his rabbit paraphernalia fell off his body on its own.
Sergei hung his head low still on all fours, his body covered in sweat from the exertion. He could hear the man saying something to the audience but he felt dizzy and out of sorts. A part of him screamed at him to get up and run, and yet another part of him just wanted to lay down and give in. He caught snippets of what the man was telling his captive audience. Something about the center of gravity, something about astounding balance.
He was picked off the ground and bridal carried by the older man with surprising ease considering his build and age. Sergei looked around in a daze; he saw a bench that had not been on the stage before. On its center laid a foot-long pole with a bulbous head considerably wider than the rest of the tube: its tip was narrow but at its widest, it seemed to have a considerable girth. The magician carried him over the bench, ignoring Sergei’s weakened thrashing.
“Now, to allow for this miracle of balance, you’ll need to remain perfectly still, my dear assistant.” At his words, Sergei felt his whole body stiffen like a plank, his legs going perfectly straight and his arms glued to his sides. He could move his neck and head no longer, only his eyes which darted from side to side in silent alarm. “Much better. As I was saying, my esteemed company, what you will see now is an act of balance that defies all explanation!”
Gently, almost with care, Rasputin the magician placed Sergei on top of the pole, the tip of its head nested in between the mounds of his ass. Very slowly, as if he feared the slightest movement would disturb the delicate balance he had achieved, the older man withdrew his hands, leaving Sergei apparently (and impossibly) balanced on his rear end by the tip of the object, much to the young man’s astonishment. He held his breath, certain he would fall at any second.
The magician left him there for a moment while the audience applauded. “Thank you, that is most kind! And that is not all that my assistant can achieve! Behold!” He faced Sergei once more and, eyes closed, started to slowly lower his hands with the palms towards the floor. For a second or two it seemed nothing was happening, but then Sergei felt a change. Very slightly but undeniably he was moving down.
It was as if invisible hands took each of his buttcheeks and separated them, allowing access to the head of the pole on which he was implausibly balancing. He soon felt the cool tip touch his asshole and he shivered, all-too-knowing of what was yet to come.
“No no no no no no no no no”, he repeated in his mind again and again, eyes wide open as he felt his hole opening up slowly, very slowly to allow more of the pole’s tip inside of him. Try as he might to close his buttcheeks it seemed his sphincter was opening up more and more, swallowing the bulbous head inch by inch.
The object invading his insides was causing a queer feeling quite different from the egg-laying experience of before, and if he were to be honest with himself it was not altogether unpleasant. He could feel in vivid detail how it slid into him ever-so-slowly, unopposed, penetrating him for the first time in his life. His asshole was being stretched open, no doubt eased by its previous experience as he continued to slide down unopposed at a slow rate.
Down and down he went. He gritted his teeth although he felt no pain. His cheeks shone red as he thought of the audience watching him being sodomized by the pole, cheering him on.
Had he been able to open his mouth he would have gasped as he felt the foreign object push something inside of him that provoked a shiver down his spine. It was a new, hitherto unknown sensation and, alarmingly, not an unpleasant one. His eyes traveled south and he was horrified to discover his member was awakening once more.
“My dear gentlemen, I must say I am as appalled as you are! When I first met my young assistant I thought him a virile man, but seeing his excitement I can only conclude he has had quite the experience being plowed by other men!” More laughter. Sergei winced, trying to will his hard-on away; he was distressed by the accusation, even more so by his body’s betrayal.
Just as he was thinking his hole must have already stretched to its limit he felt his anal lips closing to accommodate the fat head of the pole, engulfing the entire tip inside of him. He mentally groaned as the pressure built inside of him, further increasing his shame.
After a round of applause and whistles from the public the stage magician began reversing the motion of his hands, this time raising them, palm up, towards the ceiling. Sergei felt himself slowly being raised, yet the pole’s thick head was proving harder to dislodge than it had been coming in. The magician made a show of it, exaggerating his hand motions as if he was having a hard time lifting something up. Sergei grunted as he felt the object push against his insides, and more specifically against the spot that had left him breathless before; with each pull the sensations built up, his cock throbbing menacingly. He was breathing heavily now.
A loud ‘Pop!’ as the plug exited his ass was accompanied by a groan from the suddenly unmuted Sergei. He rolled his eyes back and for a second he saw white as a rush of pleasure washed over him, his hard cock shooting up jizz like a lewd fountain; he tensed and arched his back, still impossibly balanced on the tip of the pole, ropes of semen raining down on his chest and face. As he began to come down from the rush of the orgasm he was disgusted to find out some of it was trickling down his cheek into the corners of his mouth, causing him to unwittingly taste the salty substance.
“No… don’t…” he groaned as the magician once more took him in his arms, away from the pole that had penetrated him. The man ignored him, instead reveling in the attention he was being showered in; he wasted little time in introducing the next part of his set.
“Gentlemen, I hope this entertainment has proven to be amusing so far for all of you. And we are not yet finished! Because for my next act, I’m going to introduce a truly classic bit of magic… with a twist!”
Sergei saw the artifact he had helped assemble roll into the stage, seemingly on its own. He had seen it plenty of times in movies and television although never in person before today: a vertical box divided in two segments with the silhouette of a person’s body from the neck down. Too weak at this point to put too much of a resistance, he was carried with ease by the magician into the box.
Using leather straps found on the inside of the box, the magician managed to place the mostly limp body in an upright position. He closed the various segments of the box and secured them with an exterior lock, leaving Sergei’s head sticking out on top of the box.
Still dazed, Sergei tried to concentrate on what the magician was saying to his audience but found it hard to do so. It was hard for him to follow, yet he was still alarmed when the magician produced a thin metal sheet that looked extremely sharp on one of its edges.
The man approached the box while he spluttered confused protests, shaking his head. His protests unheeded, he watched in horror as the metal sheet was carefully placed in a small opening in between one of the box’s segments at waist level; Sergei felt a pang of panic as he saw the way the thin metal was inserted into the box, but the expected sensation of metal against bare skin did not come even though it appeared as if the sheet was completely inside, dividing his body in two.
His tormentor, however, was not yet done. He began to push on the top division of the box, and with shocking ease, the segment began moving. Sergei was confused as to what was happening, and only when most of the top segment was askew with the rest of the box did he realize that he should be feeling some contortion on his body. To his (and everyone’s) surprise, the magician took hold of the segment and raised it… separating it in two.
With apparent little difficulty, the man carried the top segment containing his upper body and set it on a table. Sergei was able to watch in confusion the bottom part of the closed box, which presumably had his body from the waist down. But that was impossible, of course… it had to be some sort of illusion.
As if reading his mind, the magician approached the other half of the box and opened it, showing his legs and limp dick. Sergei’s eyes bugged out as he saw his own seemingly unharmed legs; gingerly, he raised a foot and watched in morbid fascination as it moved despite appearing to be unattached to the rest of his body.
The magician was quick to assure the audience his assistant was unscathed, drawing a container from his sleeve as he spoke and deftly spreading its contents in one hand. Without missing a beat he proceeded to take hold of his victim’s now shrunken member, who squawked, startled, as he felt the touch on his person in excruciating detail despite the apparent separation of his body.
Sergei had never, in his entire life, done anything with other guys. On the contrary, he had actually proudly declared his distaste for that sort of activity and its participants. But here he was now, being fondled in front of a group of men for their amusement. He squirmed, trying unsuccessfully to get away from the violating touch of the man’s slender fingers. The transparent substance that the man had coated his fingers in felt hot to the touch, and the way he pawed at him with amazing dexterity, rubbing him up and down, was provoking in him an unwanted reaction. Much to his chagrin (and the audience’s delight), he started to sport an unmistakable hard-on.
“As you can see, not even being sewn in half is enough to stop my assistants’ excitement! He’s just so happy to be here for you!” More laughter followed the magician’s comments.
“But that is not all there is to this! If I could have your attention for just a second, I would ask that you look at this apparently ordinary ring!” He produced a metallic ring and showed it off with one hand, turning it around for the audience’s benefit. The ring, about 2 and a half inches in diameter, gleamed under the spotlight. He smirked. “Let us see if this piece of jewelry fits our willing assistant.”
He bent down, and despite Sergei thrashing around he took hold of his erect member and slid the metallic ring on it, briefly crushing his balls as he placed it to the root of his dick like a cockring. It was just a tiny bit loose, a testament to his above-average size.
“Well, I will say it does not fit him perfectly. So we better do something about it!” He snapped his fingers and the ring began to glow in a pale blue light. The metallic surface felt colder against Sergei’s skin and somehow tighter. Was it his imagination or was the ring shrinking in size? After a few moments, the answer was plain to see: the cockring had, without a doubt, shrunken down to the point that his penis and balls were imprisoned by it. Sergei gritted his teeth as he felt the tight ring against his skin until it finally stopped; his penis looked harder than ever, palpitating red and angry.
As the magician once more took hold of his exceptionally rigid penis Sergei was unable to contain a moan; he didn’t know how, but despite having expelled his seed not ten minutes ago he felt extraordinarily horny once more. He was conscious enough to feel embarrassed about it, yet not enough to be able to contain himself.
The magician continued playing with him, stimulating him, and as Sergei’s half-lidded eyes were starting to give in to the sensations he realized something had happened when he heard the gasps of the audience.
When he opened at the scene in front of him it took him a few seconds to realize what he was seeing. The magician was holding the glowing ring in one hand, away from his body, and on top of it was his ball and penis. On his own groin, he saw a bare, smooth mound with no genitals to speak of. Yet despite the separation he could, impossibly, still feel the sensations of the magician’s caresses on his phallus. He squirmed as the man rubbed the tip of his finger on his sensitive cockhead.
“Tonight, gentlemen, you will see something that many men have dreamed of: the possibility of pleasuring themselves!”
Without further explanation, the magician approached Sergei’s upper torso, magic ring with his genitals in hand. Sergei looked at him with apprehension; it was clear what the man was planning as he presented his own pulsating cock to Sergei. Never in his life had his member seemed as big as it did now, nor had he ever been aware of its rank musk as he was now.
“Get away from m-ughh!” The magician seized the opportunity to shove the cock into his mouth. Sergei’s initial reaction had been to chomp down on it but caught himself before he did, and he was glad that he did as he felt a damp, warm sensation in his own groin. His tongue swirled in his mouth, trying to find space to fit the huge member, and that in turn made him further squirm his legs at the sensations.
He started choking as the magician manipulated his tool and fit more and more of it in his mouth, making it hard for him to breathe. It was the oddest sensation: his cock felt warm and wet, his mouth stuffed, and he had trouble separating the two. He moved his tongue trying to accommodate the suddenly cramped throat and a shiver ran down his spine as he unintentionally touched the tip of his cockhead with it.
Sergei closed his eyes, trying unknowingly to disassociate from the situation. Yet he found that that meant his sole focus was on the sensations, and those were getting more intense by the minute. He found himself darting his tongue inside his own foreskin and shivered in unexpected pleasure as he continued to explore it. He was quickly becoming a self-expert on auto-fellation, his brain firing synapses whenever he moved in a particular way or touched a specific part.
It was the worst thing so far, knowing that after all he had been subjected to, all the abuses and humiliations, he was drawing pleasure, actual real pleasure from this. He hated it and yet he couldn’t stop pleasuring himself. It was oh so much better, and while a part of him screamed that what he was doing was wrong he increasingly began to ignore that voice, preferring to dull the pain through the gratification of his own tongue on his increasingly leaking cock.
Soon he found himself rhythmically bobbing his head as he tuned out his surroundings entirely. This felt good and nothing else mattered: it was just him and his cock. He felt once more a sensation building up inside of him and he increased his rhythm, feeling it build up more and more as he did. He could taste it, it was there, just a little bit more…
And then the spell was broken as his own penis was cruelly removed from his open mouth. He opened his eyes, mouth agape and tongue sticking out as if waiting to be fed cock again. Instead, he was facing the magician with a triumphant expression.
“Quite the greedy little piggy, you turned out to be. Do you want some more? Tell me, boy, what is it you want?”
“Please!” Sergei surprised himself with his own words. “Please! Just… just a little bit more. I can’t take it. PLEASE!!” The pleasure was the only thing that made sense now. Anything to avoid having to face his own debasement.
“You need to tell me, my dear assistant, you need to be clear. What is it that you want?”
“I…,” he hesitated for just a second, just enough to discard the last remains of his broken pride. “I need cock. Please, just… just give me cock!”
Rasputin did not respond. Sergei was disappointed when he saw him walk away with the ring containing his genitals in his hand but then gasped as he saw him open the rear door of the other box, revealing Sergei’s ass.
“WAIT!”
“And now, dear gents, the trick of the man who can fuck himself!” He placed the tip of Sergei’s cock in his own ass and shoved it in, hard.
Sergei, breathless, froze in place with his mouth in an O shape. His ass had involuntarily clenched just before he was sodomized, making it all the more painful for him. The older man, however, gave him no respite. He moved it in and out, in and out to great cheers from the audience.
“Please, uhh!” what he was begging for, not even he knew. His eyes turned white as the man continued fucking him with his own cock. This was not like the pole. This was a cock, an actual real cock inside of him, fucking him, breeding him. And if he had felt pleasure before it had nothing on what he was feeling now.
It was a twofold sensation: he was familiar with the sensations provided by his cock buried deep in a hole fucking with animalistic abandon, although this was the warmest and tightest of them all, but there was another, queer sensation alongside it. It was not as obvious as the other one and it took time to build up, but as he continued moving his hips against his will it became more and more evident. His own cock was touching that part of him that had been unknown to him up until today, and each time it did he couldn’t help but curl his toes and moan, breathless. It was awful and wonderful at the same time, terrible and oh-so-very pleasurable.
He was horrified to discover the sensations were pushing him closer and closer to the edge. He was gonna do it, he was gonna explode and breed his own ass and they would all witness it. And he hated it. But he loved it.
Despite himself, he found himself turning to see the men below the stage. They were all transfixed by the scene in front of them, some of them openly touching the obvious bulges in their dress pants. They were witness to the first time he received cock, a moment that would be tattooed in his mind for the rest of his life.
The pleasure and the humiliation, it all swirled together until he knew not which one was which. It was too much for him, and with a great moan he came, he came in great white spurts, shooting in his own ass again and again, filling his insides with his own cum. He was ejaculating like never before and in that instant that was all that mattered, not the audience, not the magician, but the pleasure of it all.
Sergei, breathless, closed his eyes, only dimly aware of the standing ovation he had earned.
* * *
As the young man exited the mansion in a daze a rush of cold air brought him out of his stupor. He stumbled into the dark, alone, and grimaced as he absentmindedly rubbed over his jeans the smooth mound on his crotch where his cock and balls used to be. He hoped the man would keep up his word when he returned for his next job…
AUTHOR’S NOTES:
Well, that ended up being way longer than I expected. First of all, thank you very much for reading this story. I originally wrote this many years ago, in Spanish only, and for the longest time I wanted to translate it. Well, I finally did with the, ahem, motivation provided by the stern hand of someone I will only call The Professor. Thank you, Professor.
I also want to thank the two persons who provided illustrations for this story (which I’m posting with their permissions): the first one (Sergei in his assistant outfit) was made by my friend @AlexdorMaster back when I wrote the story in Spanish (which explains the slightly different outfit). The second one was made by my own husband (I posed for it myself 😁). You can find more of his art on Instagram as @LuixVoyeur! Thank you very much, both of you!
I do hope you enjoyed this tale. I love hearing from people who enjoy my stories, so please don’t hesitate to reach out via email: [email protected]