A young man goes to a magic show and is turned into a girl
The sheeting rain had cleared the usually busy streets down to a few bedraggled stranglers umbrellas held firm against the wind. Cars were rarer still though the great spray of liquid mud they threw up made an impact. The fog didn't help and it was half blind , swathed in an overcoat two sizes too large, that I pressed on to the Regency theatre.

It was an old place, build under Victoria and well past its glory days. Located far from the more popular theatres I confess I had never heard of it before. Despite the rain and the fog and the chill in the air I was exited. Tonight was a very special night. Tonight I would see Virgil the magnificent. It sounds a silly name, who is called 'the magnificent;' any more even in the world of show magic. Truth is though the man is something of legend for those in the trade Most of the general public wouldn't give him a second glance but he has been an enigma on the circuit for decades.

That means of course that I am in the trade, sort of. I am a magician, a pretty good one too but so far not... successful. I moved from Kent to London two years ago to make my name an fortune. Instead I barely scrape together the rent for a barely legal flop house by playing the streets for tips and the occasional children’s party.

The Regency theatre came into view. Old, gaudy, slightly decaying. Squeezed between a pub and a large abandoned hotel. This wasn't the most luxurious part of town. Despite that there was a doorman sheltering under the portico. Not some black jacketed, shaven headed bouncer but a proper doorman with a red uniform and a hat, As I approached he held out his hand.

“This is a private event sir. Tickets please,” I can't say I cared for his tone. Clearly he didn't think that someone like me belonged here. It was with some pleasure then that I ruffled through my dad's old coat to produce my invitation.

The slightly bent, cream coloured card with its hand written inscription
'Virgil the magnificent
Master of the arcane
Cordially invites
Henry Microft Williams
To an evening of magic'

This seemed to satisfy him and with a smile he waved me through. The invitation, along with the Regency's address, had been pushed through my letter box a week ago. I had been both surprised and pleased. Virgil's performances were always available by invitation only, It was a mark that you should be taken seriously in the industry to have received such an invitation. There hadn't been a show in England for nearly four years so far as I knew. Now here I was, invited.

Inside the theatre shone with faded glory. Green leather, dark wood, a portrait of prince Albert looming over the stairs. It was like steeping back in to another age. To my left there was a cloak room with a young female attendant. Plain, black and fat she was polite as she took my old over coat leaving me in a rented dinner jacket. It had taken most of my savings just to rent the thing but black tie means black tie and I was glad I spent the money.

Looking at the number on my invitation she directed me down the stairs towards the theatre proper. Proceeding down I emerged into a room full of people. The theatre was not large but it was sumptuously appointed. There were about two hundred seats but only forty or so were filled.

I found my seat in the second row nestle between a major talent scout and an aristocratic old woman I didn’t recognise. Looking around I saw that I was one of the youngest in attendance, there were two other men in their twenties, half a dozen in their thirties but the rest were all over fifty. There were also remarkably few women in the audience and all of them were about the same age as the ermine clad grand mother on my right.

I had been there only a few minutes when he lights dimmed, the stage lit up and the curtains spread. Then he came, walking slowly and calmly. A tall pale man in his early forties dressed in a top hat and tails. Cane in his hand, moustache bristling on his upper lip. A man in his prime a century too late.

The show began it was remarkable. Some of the tricks I had seen before but Virgil was a showman and I was sweat away. Other tricks I had never seen. Normally I can work out how a trick is done, most magicians can, if you can't you are not much good. Here though trick after trick went b leaving me confused, dazzled and delighted.

We had been sitting there for perhaps an hour and a half. So far applause was the most interactive thing we had had to offer, Suddenly though the changed. “For my next trick I shall require a volunteer,” he said in his low, deep voice. Up till now he had been alone on stage. I had though this odd since in all other ways Virgil was a traditionalist high Victorian. Why no glamorous assistant?

Needless to say my hand shot up along with half the audience. His hand wavered for a moment before pointing directly at me.
“You young man, come up onto the stage,”
Exited and nervous I did so to a smattering of applause driving my on. Within moments I was within arms reach of the great man.

“Now then my boy what is your name?” I told him
“Henry Williams!” He repeated rather louder so that everyone could hear.
“ Now Henry please bring that out onto the stage” I pointed to a velvet sheeted object in the wings. I wheeled it out without question. Once it was centre stage Virgil whipped away the velvet sheet to reveal a strange device.

It consisted of two leather covered platforms, a skeleton of brass piping to suspend them and some belt like restrains dangling. One pad was at stomach height, the other a little higher and a few feet forward of the first.
“Now would you please rest your head on this pad?” he patted the higher one.

Carefully I did as bid, not without some trepidation, but it was magic after all and there are plenty of strange and even dangerous looking things that are always quite harmless. Putting my head on the pad mean bending over the first one, which at least provided some good support. The head pad was curved and shaped to let my head sit comfortably looking straight forwards into the wings.

Swiftly and expertly he secured the straps. One over each arm lashing them to the crass rods in form on me to either side . One for each leg spreading them apart. Another looped round my waist and the last went around the top of my neck. I seconds I was locked in place in a very compromising position. Still I wasn't really worried until he slipped a gag into my mouth. A ring of warm plastic forcing my lips open and reducing to to grunts and moans if I attempted to speak.

“Now ladies and gentlemen I see that here today we have many of the later and few of the former. For this trick I shall change that. We have here a strapping young man. Now have all heard of drag acts and lady boys so I am sure you agree we need a little proof,”

I couldn’t see him, nor could I turn by head, and so I didn't see him draw a knife but he must have done because I felt a small blade slicing through my rented dinner jacket and the shirt beneath. I felt his hands take off my clip-on bow tie and I heard the tearing fabric of my trousers. For good measure he pulled off my shoes and soaks before silting carefully the side of my boxer shorts and tearing the rags away.

So there I was; gagged, bound and naked on stage in front of influential wealthy people in the world I wanted to star in. Needless to say my face was flushed with embarrassment which only rose when Virgil revealed that the contraction I was bound to could be moved around with a series of leavers and gears. With my feat half an inch from the ground I was powerless as he swung my round so that the audience could get a better view. Proof of my manhood.

There was silence in the auditorium. To them this was all just part of the act, as indeed it was, and the fact that I was degraded and humiliated by it was no reason for them to object.
“You see, a fine specimen of manhood.”
He suddenly slapped my balls lightly with his cane. The blow, invisible to me, made me yelp. Even muffled by the gag this served no doubt as further proof. I didn't much appreciate it.

Satisfied Virgil cranked me round again so that I was staring off into the wings and the audience had a side on view of me.
“Now we don’t just want a woman do we gentlemen. Now what this show is missing is a pretty girl. So first a few cosmetic changes,”
'Here it comes' I thought 'the trick, I hope it's worth it'. I though exactly that. I remember.

Virgil placed his silk gloved hands around my waist and squeezed gently. I felt one of strangest sensations I have ever known. Unseen my flesh seemed to give into the pressure and recede. Fat and muscle shrinking as though my body were made of dough. His hands moved up towards my chest and then disappeared.
“I slip, shapely waist,” he announced to a round of applause

Next I felt his hands on my muscular legs, made strong by street performances and cycling. The stuff of my being turned to putty in his hands as he smoothed away the muscle tone and the bulk. I could feel my self shrinking. Panic started to rise in earnest now. To by sure magic tricks can make people believe in the impossible but this wasn't that. I could feel it, and yet I couldn't be!

“A beautiful pair of shapely, feminine legs,” his next call.
Not a moment later I felt his hands gain, this time on my buttocks, moulding, reshaping, like a potter until
“Now there we have a lovely English bottom, ripe for so many things,”

On and on he worked, smaller shoulders, smaller arms. Tweaking my face into a more pleasing form. Grasping my short black hair he pulled and pulled like a clown with his handkerchiefs until I had a cascade down to the small of my back. He called out to the audience to choose the size of my new breasts, a firm, pliant C cup. This was the strangest feeling yet. Up to now he had been taking away or changing form, now he was adding. Still I was perversely grateful that he rejected the call for double Gs.

I though about screaming but with the gag in my mouth it wouldn’t have mattered. Besides oven if the audience though t I was really in through this was Virgil the magnificent, they wouldn't interfere.

“And now we come to it. You had before a strong, handsome young man in his prime. Now a beautiful, feminine creature. But not yet a woman,”
It had been coming , he had always been building to it. The crown Jewels.

Throughout the transformation he had been cranking me around to the angle best suited to the audience. He id so now, shifting me round so that I was looking back into the centre of the stage. I could not see nor move as I felt the trip of his cane press against my balls. Slowly, carefully, the agonisingly, my testicles began to rise up. I could feel them shrinking as they rose, useless or not I screamed now, even through the gag.

I didn't help, I think it made it worse to hear my tenor bellow race up the scale to a high soprano. In seconds it was done. I felt Virgil's hands rummaging around, perfecting the last details of my new pussy.

My new pussy, it sounds so strange and I can assure you it feels much, much stranger. The pain was gone, you can;t feel the pain of crushed balls you now longer have .All this time I had still been holding on to some faint hope that all of this was a magnificent trick, but it wasn't. This was real. This was magic. I was a girl.

“And so ladies and gentlemen there you have it. A young can transformed before your very eyes into a young woman.” The applause for so small a crown was rapturous. Rightly so, Virgil the magnificent had lived up to his promise, he had done the impossible, but he wasn't finished yet.

“Now I always like to end my show with a bang. Tonight I have the opportunity to do just that. I felt strong, warm fingers slide into my new slit. Not the silken gloves of before, he must have taken them off. It is strange the details you remember.

I also remember the renewed sense of panic as he began to finger me. There I was naked and legs spread, bent over. I had though from the off that it was a compromising position, now I knew why. He was going to fuck me!

I started straining against the restraints but they were as solid as when I first tried. Then, gradually, I stopped. Behind me, inside me, I could feel a new sort of magic. Utterly different from a hand job and utterly weird needless to say. Still it was... nice. Doesn’t sound too strong but it was nice, pleasant. Two finders gliding in and out of my increasingly slippery snatch, another playing with !!my clit. Virgil know what he was doing.

It shouldn't have calmed ,e, some how it did. As much as I feared what must come next a small part of me wanted it, wanted it badly/. It was with a growing sense of dread and longing then that I met the words
“I think she is ready ladies and gentlemen!”

The hands withdrew, I thought I could hear the faint pop of buttons coming undone. Then suddenly I was moving, swinging around to face into the wings again. As I swung the platform supporting my stomach began to rise, just a few inches to slide me into a better position for fucking.

I must admit I let out a small whimper when he placed his hands around my waist. As I felt the hard, warm tip of Virgil's penis touch lightly on my lower lips I closed my eyes and waited. Half dreading, half longing. I didn't have long to wait. Slowly, gently, I felt the hard rod push into me. It was excruciating joy. There was pain, my virgin cunt was tight and even well lubricated it hurt, but there was pleasure too.

He started slowly thrusting, just the tip, in and out almost completely. A little deeper every time. Then he hit the wall, my wall. He barely took a second to break me. I was certainly no virgin any more. Less than ten minutes from becoming a woman to losing my virginity, that might just be some kind of record.

Now that my cherry had been popped he began to thrust deeper, deeper every time until with one long thrust he buried his full length in me. To my poor, bloody, strechingly tight cunny he felt huge. I was so caught up in the glorious violation that I snapped my eyes open in shock when he spoke again.

“I feel guilty keeping this treasure all to myself. May I have another volunteer from the audience?”
I couldn't see the hands shooting up, I imagine there were quite a few.
“You sir, come on up. I am sure this fine slut in making would appreciate her first taste of cock,”

I tried to speak, to tell him no, it was no good. Moreover despite my protests that small part of me that wanted to be fucked was growing stronger. Virgil was fucking me now with greater speed and power. The pain redoubled, the pleasure tripled, but I was waiting for the next ordeal.

Locked in place as I was it was only when he stepped in front of my eyes that I saw the second man. It was the talent scout I had been sitting next to. In his early fifties with a slightly bulging gut he was no girl's dream man. Frankly his body was not what caught me attention however. With agonising slowness he unzipped his fly, slid down his boxers just a few inches and let out a throbbing six inch bock. Wrapping it in a meaty hand the man beat it a few times, hardening further before stepping up to my face.

I could smell his aftershave as he placed one hand on my shoulder and the other on top of my head. I could only hand there staring cross eyed at his glistening member and inch from my lips. My mouth hung open, inviting him in. The ring gag kept my in perfect blow-job stance. He did not take Virgil's care in breaking my in, thrusting down my throat in one deep lunge. I gagged of course, seem to are. This wasn't cock sucking, I couldn't move my lips nor my tongue very much, it was a throat fucking. The cocks claimed virgin territory as both men pounded ever harder. Virgil was nearly silent, the talent scout grunted and gasped. He called me 'good girl' and then he came in my mouth. Several thick wads of salty white goo splashed into my gullet. Some I swallowed on reflect, the rest spilled out over the ring and onto my chin. I had just taken my first load.

“Thank you Mr Whittaker, I am sure she is glad of the lesson,” Virgil said with relish, slapping my arse hard for emphasis. He was still going strong, hammering deep now fast, now slow.
“Tonight ladies and gentlemen it has been a pleasure to entertain you. You have been a wonderful audience. It is always a shame I feel when a show outstays its welcome, and so I will finish with a true climax!”

He was not wrong, as the last words left his mouth the first burst of cum left his dick, splattering inside my tight sore cunt. It was enough to set my off and I moaned incoherently through the gag as I experienced my first female orgasm. In a last few thrusts Virgil emptied himself into my fuckhole and and curtains came down to rapturous applause.

They left me then, all of them. The talent scout back to the rest of the audience and then likely home. Virgil back stage somewhere. I hung there, cum leaking out of both ends, burning with shame not only of being so used but for having enjoyed it! After what seemed like hours but can only have been ten minutes or so I heard foot steps and strong deft hands unbuckling my gag.

“You bastard what have you gummlingckk!” I screamed before he rammed the gag back in
“Temper temper temper return when you have remembered your manners,” He left again leaving me cursing his name. Eventually I quietened and after a time he returned.
“I hope we will have none of that foolishness again miss,” he said as he once again removed the gag. This time I held my tongue.
“Good, I am going to undo the restraints now. Before you do anything stupid like try to assault me or run away I want your word that you will give my ten minutes to explain your situation, then you will be free to go, if you wish.”

It was clear I wasn't getting out of here any other way so I nodded and mumbled yes in a soft, high voice. Virgil smiled and set about freeing me. In a few moments I once more had control of my limbs. Standing I walked forwards a few paces and almost tripped, jut walking seemed different. Not only were my legs a different length in proportion to my body but my hips seemed to want to run the show.
“Don't worry, you will get used to it,” he said
“Now there is a bathroom just down there” he pointed “and to the right, go and get yourself cleaned up and then we shall have our ten minutes. Given my situation I was in no position to argue and so I followed his direction off stage and through the half decayed trappings of back stage.

Faded posters of acts long retired or dead lined the walls until I came to a door marked 'WC' and beneath that 'ladies'. I hardly hesitated before going in, it felt natural. Besides it wasn't like there would be anyone else around.

I was right, there wasn't but there was a mirror. Curiosity overcame my and before cleaning myself I went to stand in front of it. I was a very different person. Legs and arms slip and elegant. Bust high, firm and tipped with pink roses, a small dainty hand rose to fondly them absently and found my tits to be sensitive and warm.

All these things I had expected though it remained unearthly to see. What I hadn't been prepared for were the little things. My skin for a start, once browned and tanned it was now alabaster white and without blemish. My face, that was the real one though. Looking hard I could still see my old face in there, perhaps, but to another I would be utterly unrecognisable. My lips were large and luscious, my cheek bones higher, my eyebrows slender and plucked to perfection.

I was beautiful, I had to admit that. Virgil had done an exquisite job. Tracing a hand over my hairless pussy (matching my legs and arms) I was filled with a desire to fuck myself with a cock no longer there, an odd feeling.

I had to get some answers though and for that I needed to get clean. First I went to the nearest cubicle to take a piss (and interesting experience in itself but not one I am going into). Then with tap water (ice cold) and tissue paper I did the best I could to clean the cum off of my face, legs and crotch. Drying myself with a tiny towel I struggled to tie it about my waist for some semblance of over but some gave up. Naked still I left the bathroom and ran almost into the arms of the doorman.

He was still dressed as before though without the hat. Larger than before now that I had lost half a good in height he towered over me. He did not look threatening but that smile was still there. I didn't like that smile. Without a word he indicated which way I should go and proceeded to escort me through a maze of rooms and corridors. Even as he walked behind me I could feel his eyes running up and down my form. It was better than the smile though. Eventually we reached a door marked with a bronze star.

Knocking the doorman opened it and ushered me in before following and closing the door. Suddenly three pairs of eyes were on me and I was acutely aware once more of my naked vulnerability.
“Sit,” Virgil indicated a canvas chair as the very centre of the room. I sat, mind racing. I needed answers and for that I needed to co-operate, but I also needed to get away from here, to get help.

“You have question, allow me to answer the most obvious. No this is not some cunning ruse, I changed you into the woman you could have been had fate been different. Yes, I am more than a magician I am a wizard. Yes, I can turn you back. No, I wont, not yet.” he leant back on a faded chaise long and lit a cigar from a gun metal lighter.
“Then there is the why; four reasons. First of all I recently lost my previous assistant and my act just isn't the same without her. Second I am a virile man and I wanted a pretty girl to screw. Three because I think you may have some talent and four,” he grinned “because I wanted to.”

“Turn me back now or I am going to the police,” I tried to sound menacing, I failed. He laughed, so did the old woman, the doorman just smiled.

“And what, my darling, would you tell them? That you are really a boy by the name of Henry Wilson and a man in a hat made your nuts disappear like a bunny rabbit?” This point I had considered on my short walk

“I will tell them that you raped me, which is true!,” no laughter this time but a grim smile
“Difficult to prove, besides which I can be gone long before you convince anyone of anything. You don't even have a name to put on the paperwork
“Besides I know you enjoyed it, I know you want more and the way I know that is that I made you. I know my craft miss, I didn't just make you a girl I made you a slut, among other things.”

I had no answer to that, it was true but I would be damned if I would say it.
“Well if you're so powerful and all knowing why don't you let me go? I obviously can't hurt you!”
“Certainly,” he took a long drag and exhaled a great silvery cloud before continuing
“You are free to leave, but if I might ask, where will you go? I didn't pick you by chance darling,”

Virgil began ticking off points on his fingers
“You are an orphan since your parent's deaths last year; you have no close friends in the city, no steady job, a housing lease of just two months expiring in three weeks. Moreover you have little money, few possessions, no identity, no record of you existence anywhere on gods green earth. And of course no name, not with that body. I suppose I should add a fifth reason to my previous list. You are alone in the world.

It was very nearly the worst thing to have happened that day, to have my placed under a microscope and found so utterly wanting. It was true, I had never looked at things so starkly but it was true. Aside from a few bits of paper there was nothing to say that Henry Williams had ever existed, an expired passport and a provisional driving licence was all there was to prove my name, and now those ID photos didn't look like me at all. I sat in silence for a full minute, him smoking, the others gazing on.

“So you can leave if you wish, make of life what you can. Or you can stay here as my assistant and servant and I will teach you to pull back the veil of our reality.”

I didn't hesitate, the choice was obvious. I had been assaulted and raped (liking it be damned he had still forced me) and I was going. How would I live, where would I go? I wasn't thinking of those things in that moment, I just wanted to get away from there, away from him and the terrifyingly seductive eyes that never left mine.
“I'm leaving,”

Virgil sighed
“Very well, Lottie please show miss no name to the front entrance and return her belongings.”
Shocked at being allowed to go so easily I said no more but went direct to the door, it was not surprising to here him speak one last time
“If you should change your mind I shall be staying in the hotel adjoining for the next three days. No more.”

Anonymous readerReport

2014-07-13 06:12:17
I agree you badly need to proofread. It really detracted from what I found to be a fascinating story. So continue just proof your work before you post. Hope to see more soon!!

Anonymous readerReport

2014-07-12 11:02:50
proof read, proof read,proof read

Anonymous readerReport

2014-07-12 11:02:45
proof read, proof read,proof read

You are not logged in.
Characters count: