Drew's Transformation

For a very long time, Andrew had been interested in magic.

He never got into it much as a kid - never owned any magic sets, didn't see it much on TV, never even saw any shows in person. But he had a passing interest. When he did see illusions and routines, he would marvel at the convincing tricks that the most skilled magicians could pull off.

But Drew also liked to imagine how they were done, the sorts of flexible poses, precise prop design, and trained stooges that would be needed to pull a show off. He knew that for every professed mind reader, there was a trained person in the audience who would say all the right things to make the act convincing.

So it happened, that, when the opportunity came to him, he saw a magic show - one that would change his life, much more than he had bargained for.

A hot new act - in more ways than one - was set to tour the nation. It was a lady magician - a magicienne, as they're called. Her name? She went by many - Moda the Magnificent, Moda the Mysterious, Moda the Magical. This run, she would be mononymous, simply Moda. She was renowned for her prowess, the staggering tricks she could pull off unrivaled by any other in her field. Drew watched a few of her shows online, and many of her illusions baffled him. She seemed to have powers that were truly unexplainable.

His parents, at his age, still sent him money every year for his birthday, and he liked to spend it on experiences rather than things. This year, he spent it on a ticket to the opening night of Moda's tour, in his city. The main thing that drew him to the tour was the promise of a brand new illusion, one that would be among the greatest ever performed. Drew hoped to figure it out the night of, just to get ahead of everyone else. He thought about some of Moda's other tricks, though - magical dismemberments, instantaneous teleportations, and impossible mind-reads. What if this new illusion was just as unexplainable? He'd have to find out.

The night of the show arrived, and Drew found himself sitting near the center of the audience. It was a medium-sized venue, not a stadium but not too small either, and hundreds of other people slowly packed the place as showtime approached.

Drew wondered if he was underdressed. He had thrown on a T-shirt and jeans before leaving, but some of the audience members he sat near were in some very elegant outfits. There were couples or families on either side of him, and it struck him as somewhat funny that he was alone at the show. He shrugged, and sat back.

At 8:00 PM sharp, the house lights dimmed suddenly, and the dark red curtains rose from the stage. Fog rolled across it, and spotlights illuminated the center, where Moda strolled out, arms raised in the air. She wore a suit jacket with a red bowtie, a short black skirt revealing shapely bare legs and tall heels, and a top hat. Her height was accentuated by the height of the stage and of her shoes. "Thank you, everybody," she called out over the applause. Drew was enthralled, seeing her in person.

The night progressed to a routine, with many tricks Drew had seen performed before, both with trained assistants and (presumably) random volunteers. He studied each of them, looking for tells that they had been planted. The night wore on, though, and, soon, it was time for the grand finale - the brand new showstopper promised on all of the marketing material, the trick that would change everything. Drew was excited.

"For the finale, tonight," her voice boomed, amplified by the speaker system, "I have an amazing illusion planned for you all. And, for it, I will need a volunteer. Do I have any takers?"

A drum roll sounded, and spotlights began to sweep the rows of spectators. Drew looked up at the stage, then the lights. He knew what was coming next - this was the part where a pre-picked and pre-trained audience volunteer would be pulled up on stage for some variation of the classic, all-time great illusion: sawing a woman in half. But what could Moda be planning that would be so groundbreaking in scope?

Drew looked down again and realized the eyes of his audience neighbors were on him. In fact, so were Moda's eyes. "You," she spoke, a single syllable ringing out over the crowd as the music hushed. He realized he was in the spotlight.

"Me?," he stammered. "You want me to help you?" He pointed a flustered finger at his chest.

"Yes, you! Come on up!" Moda dramatically beckoned with one hand, and the audience began to cheer. As if they had taken on a mind of their own, Drew's legs carried him to the aisle and then forward to the stage. Forget figuring out the trick from afar, he would have an up-close and personal experience with it!

As he climbed the stairs to the stage, Moda reached out her hand. Drew placed his in hers - her slender fingers ending in black, pointed acrylic nails - as she helped him up. "Welcome!," she said. "What's your name, sir?"

"I'm Drew," he responded, feeling small in the spotlight.

"Have you had a good time so far tonight, Drew?"

"Oh yes, of course... your talent is wonderful!" Drew spilled his heart out at once.

"I'm flattered! Now, are you ready to be even more amazed?"

"Of course!" Drew lowered his voice. "But... what do you need me to do?"

"I will give you all the instruction you need. Now..." Moda raised one hand, snapping her fingers in the air. The audience cheered as two women in little but g-string bikinis and high heels walked out from stage left, wheeling between them a long, low box on a table. Its sides were bright blue with silver trim. Drew felt his throat go dry the moment he saw it - no mistaking it, this was the "sawing a woman in half" box.

"...This is a trick I have never performed before," Moda continued, half to the audience and half to Drew. "Tonight is its debut. Do you trust me, Drew?"

"Trust you?," stammered Drew, his heart rate increasing. His eyes darted between Moda's face - scant makeup, just black lipstick and little wings of eyeliner - and the box on the table. Was he going to saw her in half? Was she going to saw him? "I think so," he finally mustered the courage to say. He added under his breath, "I just hope I don't regret this."

"You won't, darling," Moda whispered, throwing the lid of the box open. She stepped forward to center stage, raising her hands in the air. "Come on, don't you want to see Drew participate in my trick?" The audience began cheering wildly, chanting his name - Drew, Drew, Drew!

"Moda," he said quietly, pointing at the box. "That box looks like you're going to put someone in it."

"We're going to put you in it!," she exclaimed, whirling around to face him. "Come on, it'll be easy!" She extended a hand to him, speaking, "Just step inside, and I will take care of the rest." Moda winked.

Drew slowly, tentatively put his hand in hers once again. She led him to a step on the side of the table, which he walked up. "Now, you just lay down," Moda instructed, and he did so.

The box was not long enough to contain his whole body - instead, his head and feet stuck out of the ends. From where he lay, he could get a little glimpse of the audience, but he mostly watched Moda moving about the stage, her body captivating him. She stood over him, her breasts casting a shadow on his face.

"Let's hear it for Drew, everyone!," she yelled, closing the lid of the box dramatically. Brandishing two padlocks to the audience, she locked the lid tight. With one hand, she began rotating the table, allowing the crowd to see Drew's form trapped in the box.

"Hey, I can't hardly move in here," Drew said worriedly.

"That's on purpose," Moda assured, bringing the table's spin to a stop. Drew's feet were facing the audience now, and she produced a stock from beneath the table. Slotting it into place at the end of the box, it restrained his ankles.

Drew knew that the average sawing a woman in half trick utilized a fake ankle stock, where the assistant could easily draw their legs inside the box where they would be replaced by fake feet. However, as he pulled on his legs, he found they could not move inside - the stock was too tight.

"Uh, Moda?," he began to protest, as she wheeled the box in a circle again. Wordlessly, she produced another stock, and grabbed him by the chin. Their eyes met, and she leaned down, kissing him on the cheek as she slid the stock in place over his neck.

"Don't worry so much," she said, turning the box side-on to the audience. "Remember what I said - I will take care of the rest."

Drew took another nervous gulp, rocking his feet back and forth. Moda had moved down to the feet end once again, and he felt his shoelaces untie.

"Now, I'm sure most of you have seen the age-old trick where a beautiful young woman is violently sawed in half by a marauding magician," Moda began, removing one of Drew's shoes and tossing it aside. "In just a moment, Jeff will be divided in two." His other shoe came off, and alarm bells started ringing in his head.

It's okay, it's just a magic trick, she'll tell you the secret! You just have to trust her! But can I? I just met her! What if she kills me? She's never done this trick before! Oh my god!

"Before you write off this performance, though, this is not the grand new trick I have promised you." He felt her hands on his feet - cold through his socks. She slowly coaxed his socks off his feet, and dropped them to the stage floor. His toes wiggled as his feet were bared. "I will give you what I have promised you - a night none of you will ever forget!"

With a dramatic flourish, Moda threw her arm out to one side, where a third woman in a bikini walked out, carrying a formidable chainsaw. Drew's stomach dropped as he saw it. "Oh my god... Are you... Are you going to use that on..." He gulped again, his mouth dry like a desert. "...me?!"

"I am," Moda said to both Drew and the audience. "Let's hear it one more time for Drew, people!" There were cheers, and Drew found himself starting to struggle within the confines of the box. Moda yanked the chainsaw's ripcord, and it roared to life.

"Wait a minute!," Drew called out over the din of the saw. "Isn't there some kind of secret to this, like a secret trapdoor, or something?!"

"Don't worry anymore!," Moda reassured. "You are safe! Now, all you need to do is sit - well, lay - back and relax." It hardly assuaged the terror.

The two women who originally brought the box out came forward and wheeled Drew to the front of the stage. He looked first at the crowd - a sea of faces he couldn't see - then at Moda, who stood with one foot on the box. Chainsaw in the air, she gave it a powerful rev.

In one fell swoop, Moda carved the spinning chainsaw through the air and into the side of the box - as well as Drew's waist.

Drew screamed in terror. The lights went bright red - no doubt hiding the blood that was surely spraying from his body right now, he thought - and there were gasps and murmurs in the audience. There was an explosion of pain, but it wasn't like he expected, not as mind-numbing or blood-curdling. There was another feeling, too, but he couldn't place what it was just yet.

Moda continued dragging the saw through the box, making short work of Drew's torso, then spine. He felt the saw's vibrations as it cut through him, flexing and curling his toes. Then, he realized he was still moving them. The peculiar second feeling was growing stronger, now, and the pain had almost entirely subsided. In fact, he could recognize the second feeling, and he felt lucky the lights were red, because he had blushed.

The chainsaw continued, and suddenly it had exited the other side of the box. Drew tipped his head back, panting, as Moda lifted the saw high in the air. There was more applause.

"Thank you, thank you!," she basked, passing the chainsaw to the girl who had brought it. Reaching under the table again, she produced two rectangular sheets of metal, which she banged together. Laying them on the lid, she leaned over Drew's head.

"Tell me, Drew, did you come alone tonight?"

"W-well, I..." He was in a perplexed stupor, but he gathered enough focus to nod and say "yes."

"Got it!," she replied, picking up one blade and aligning it with the cut in the box. "Well, you won't have to go home by yourself tonight!" She punctuated her sentence by slamming the blade through. The sensation startled Drew, the cold steel feeling as though it were truly inside his body, a bubbling feeling that could only be sexual pleasure spreading from his waist. But how could it be? This was a trick... right? He felt the erection in his pants growing, made all the more confusing by the fact a metal blade separated it from his brain.

"Ready for the next one, Drew?," Moda asked as he reeled.

"Oh... please!" He flushed as the word escaped his mouth.

"Hear that, everyone?," Moda called, aligning the second blade next to the first. "He likes it." She slammed it down through the box, Drew arching his back inside. Why did this feel so good? It made no sense!

"Here we go, everybody!," the magicienne said, hyping the crowd up. She placed her hands on the handles at the top of the blades, and slid the two boxes - and Drew's halves - apart. The audience went wild as she strode through the gap between them.

The sensation of his legs moving in a different direction to his torso was one Drew had never experienced before. He watched them roll across the stage and into the grasp of one of the scantily-clad stagehands. His torso ended up with one as well. He looked up at her as she took the box, and she waved, carting his upper half off to one end of the stage. He could see his feet on the other side of the stage, and the woman gave them a tickle, which he felt.

"Thank you, everyone!," Moda said. "And thank you to Drew - let's give him another hand!" He smiled awkwardly at the fawning applause.

"But don't go anywhere! We're not done yet." The applause died down suddenly, the lights turning down low. Moda beckoned offstage once again, and a fourth and fifth woman approached, each in bikinis, carrying between them another box - this one bright pink with golden trim. Drew paled again, thinking about what must be happening.

The two assistants brought the pink-and-gold box to center stage, where they helped Moda out of her jacket. The one with the chainsaw took her hat. Moda stepped up onto the table, and laid down in the box, her assistants closing and locking the lids. They affixed a stock over her neck, and she craned to make eye contact with Drew, winking and giving her lips a subtle lick. At the same time, they slid a stock into place over her ankles, and each one removed one of her shoes, placing them on top of the box.

Now with Moda fully restrained inside the box, the chainsaw-carrying woman, who had donned Moda's top hat, began to rev the saw's motor. Drew's eyes were transfixed by the sight - Moda's bare feet wiggling about, her gaze on the bikini-wearing woman as she approached with the roaring saw. She began cutting through the box, and Moda screamed, thrashing and moaning as it cut through her like she cut through Drew.

The saw exited the back of the box, and the ladies who had removed Moda's shoes now approached the box with two blades, just like the ones she had put through Drew. He watched them bisect her, her toes flexing, then curling as the blades were slotted into place. He thought he momentarily caught a glimpse of the black polish on her toenails.

The two women now grabbed hold of each half of the box and table, and rolled them apart, revealing Moda to be in half, just like Drew. She grinned at the audience, wiggling her feet to show they were real. In a moment, Moda's upper half was next to Drew's.

"Enjoying the show?," she said to him quietly, as the five assistants onstage began to recite a pre-planned dialogue.

"O-oh, I..." Drew was lost for words. "I... never imagined I could assist in one of these tricks. How did you do this?"

"Magician's code - I can't tell you." She winked at him, miming a kiss. At that, she turned her head to look at the assistants, and Drew followed suit.

"...Yeah, that's perfect!" They were finishing up their routine. "That'll teach her!" Four of the assistants spread out across the stage, the top-hatted chainsaw-carrier alone in the center.

"Girls, what are you doing?," Moda asked, loudly enough to be heard. "We need you to put us back together for the finale!"

"Oh, we will," said the girl in the center.

"But first, we're gonna get back at you!," said the one who had taken hold of the box containing Moda's upper body.

"Yeah, you're always sawing us in half, doing whatever you want with us!" This woman brought Moda's lower half to center stage, and kneeled in front of her feet.

"We're gonna put you back together, but we're going to have our revenge, too!," said the top hat wearer. The five assistants each took turns tickling Moda's bare feet for the audience. Drew looked on in barely-disguised arousal. The magicienne laughed hysterically as her assistants took their opportunity.

As they finished, the top hat wearer, evidently the ringleader, spoke again. "As our final revenge, you will be put back together..." One of the assistants grabbed Moda's upper half and wheeled it towards the waiting legs at the other side of the stage - Drew's legs. "But it will be the way we see fit!"

Moda gave a staged protest as Drew watched her upper half be rolled past the box containing her legs and towards the one containing his. As another assistant took hold of that box, his fears were confirmed.

The girls aligned the box containing Drew's legs with the one containing Moda's upper half. As the assistants pulled the blades out of the box, Drew lost feeling in his legs. His stomach did a flip, and he felt nauseous for a moment. Is this fucking real?!

The lids were thrown wide, and they helped Moda out, her legs clad in the pants Drew had worn to the show. He could hardly believe it - how? He studied her form for any evidence that she had performed an elaborate clothing swap on them. Then again, he really couldn't feel his legs.

He was snapped out of his disbelief by the assistants taking hold of his upper half, and taking it to center stage. Though he couldn't see over the edge of the box, he knew they were lining him up with the pink box containing Moda's legs. The magicienne herself stood over him now, gently stroking his cheek with one hand before drawing the blades out.

This only served as further confirmation of what had happened. His legs felt totally different as he scrunched and wiggled his toes, and the erection that was in his pants only moments ago had been entirely replaced by a new, alien feeling. He felt Moda's hands tickle his new feet, which elicited another laugh.

"Hahaha, oh my god! How did you do that?," he said reflexively.

"A magicienne never reveals her secrets!," replied Moda, opening the boxes dramatically and helping Drew to stand.

In a moment, he stood in front of the audience, a little off-balance, looking down at the woman's legs in dress pants that he now owned. Even the toenails were painted black. It can't be...

The warm, pulsating sensation in his loins was powerful, threatening to throw him to the stage floor. He leaned over to Moda, saying under the cheering, "I don't know why, but this feels... amazing. How about you?"

"It feels pretty great for me, too." She raised a hand, quieting the applause again. "Now, this is not the end of our show!," she said, raising her voice again. "The trade has been completed, but we need to perform a final rite to complete the magic spell..." Her voice took on an ominous edge.

"What happens next?," Drew mused aloud.

Moda grinned at him, brilliant white teeth bared between her black-painted lips. She gestured behind him, and he turned his attention upstage, where the assistants had brought on a new prop - a huge rack, fitted with various clasps and shackles, in the shape of a human, spread-eagled.