New assistant illusionist (Patreon)

Part 1

The empty backstage hallway was filled with the distant echoes of applause. Nick, as usual, was cleaning up after the latest act while the troupe entertained the crowd with dazzling illusions and tricks. A smile appeared on his face when he heard the loud ovation—by the sound of it, this was Jacques' act, the circus's lead illusionist. The audience adored him: mesmerized by his tricks, flashes of light, and dramatic disappearances, they barely kept up with his quick hands and alluring voice. Nick had his own respect for the stage masters, and at times, he might have even envied their popularity and the admiration they commanded.

Carefully sweeping the last corner, he set the broom aside for a moment and stretched his aching back. It was hard not to dream of standing in their place, even just once, during moments like these. But it remained an impossible fantasy—who was he to dream of the stage?

No sooner had Nick finished tidying the corner than the circus manager, Mr. Devereux, strode toward him. Devereux was a stocky, slightly fidgety man with a neatly trimmed mustache and a habit of constantly checking his pocket watch, ensuring he missed nothing.

—Nick, my friend! You’ll help the circus out in a tough moment, right? — Devereux began, jumping straight to the point. His face was slightly tense, and his voice sounded anxious. —We need you now more than ever!

—Me? —Nick looked surprised, not fully understanding what was happening. —Is something wrong?

—Yes, you, —Devereux confirmed, casting a quick glance around, as if checking to make sure no one was eavesdropping. —There’s a problem with Jacques’ act; his assistant didn’t show up. And this act is important, you understand? We need a replacement urgently. Can you manage?

—Wait, wait, Mr. Devereux— Nick took a step back, bewildered. —I’m just a janitor. What kind of assistant would I be?

—Don’t worry, —Devereux waved his hand, as if it were nothing. —All you have to do is get into the box for a couple of minutes and stay still. Jacques will handle the rest. It’s a disappearance act, nothing complicated. You’ll come out, the audience will be surprised, and that’s it. Besides, I’ll pay you well.

At the mention of money, Nick relaxed a little. Thoughts raced through his mind: this was a chance, after all! A small one, maybe, but still a step toward the stage.

—Of course, of course, —he exhaled, trying to steady the slight tremor in his voice. —If you need me, I’ll help.

—Wonderful! —Devereux clapped him on the shoulder enthusiastically and led him to the dressing room, leaving him almost no choice.

In the cramped room filled with mirrors, the makeup artist was already waiting for them. He gave Nick a quick look, and for a moment, a flicker of doubt crossed his face, but then he smirked and handed Nick a simple black suit with wide lapels.

—Put it on, don’t be shy, —said the makeup artist, sizing Nick up with a slight squint and nodding at the suit. —You might not look like a pro, but it’ll do for this act.

Nick took the suit, glanced at his reflection one more time, and sighed. It wasn’t every day a janitor ended up on stage as the assistant to a great illusionist. He slipped into the suit, which was a bit big in the shoulders and too long, but, as the makeup artist said, it would do. With little time to spare, Mr. Devereux practically dragged him toward the backstage area.

Part 2

Jacques was already captivating the audience, expertly playing on their imagination. The stage, bathed in the glow of spotlights, seemed like an entirely different world to Nick, far from the backstage bustle and his usual cleaning duties. As they approached the stage, Devereux whispered hurriedly:

—No complicated tricks, you just need to get into the box and wait for Jacques to open it. Just don’t move or make a sound. When you go on stage, just smile and act like everything is under control, —Devereux whispered, nudging Nick forward. —And remember, it’s only a couple of minutes!

Nick was pushed into the blinding stage lights, where, for a moment, the audience turned into a blur. He squinted, feeling completely out of place. The audience began murmuring, frowning with obvious disappointment—it was clear to everyone that this wasn’t Jacques’ charming assistant, but a guy in an ill-fitting suit who looked more than a little lost.

Jacques, tall, charismatic, and confident, approached Nick with a friendly but visibly strained smile. With a practiced gesture, he put an arm around Nick’s shoulders and, turning him to face the audience, began speaking, quickly adapting to the situation with humor.

—My friends, —he began, raising his hand in a theatrical gesture, —everything is just fine. My usual assistant has found herself in… an unexpected adventure! Yes, yes! Sometimes even magic needs a few… surprises. Today, I present to you not an ordinary assistant! —He paused, allowing the audience to take in the unexpected twist. —But a real stage vagabond!

The audience chuckled as Jacques continued the joke, poking fun at Nick’s disheveled appearance.

—They say the stage vagabond appears only on a full moon and only on the most magical of nights, ladies and gentlemen! —Jacques addressed the crowd, smirking, —This man can disappear and reappear where you least expect him… usually by the buffet or at the ticket counter!

The audience burst into laughter, catching the hint at Nick’s awkward look. Nick, still embarrassed, stood there, unsure of what to do. Seeing his discomfort, Jacques nudged him toward the box with a playful grin.

—Well, vagabond, your time has come! Get in, —he commanded, giving Nick a theatrical pat on the shoulder. Nick took a deep breath and climbed in, feeling the door of the box slam shut and darkness envelop him.

Meanwhile, Jacques raised his voice theatrically as he spread his arms:

—Prepare yourselves for the great disappearance! Our vagabond will travel to a place where no circus buffet or ticket booth can find him! You are about to witness a mystery steeped in centuries of magical ritual!

The audience fell silent in anticipation, and as Jacques held a dramatic pause, he signaled the lighting crew. The lights dimmed, the stage was draped in darkness, and only flashes of colorful lights created an air of mystery.

In the third row, a woman sat calmly, dressed in an elegant, muted dark green gown, adorned with barely noticeable earrings that sparkled in the spotlight’s glow. Her face looked serene, but a strange glint flickered in her eyes—a mixture of boredom and barely concealed mockery. She watched the stage with a slightly raised eyebrow and a wrinkled nose.

Part 3

—And so, ladies and gentlemen, the stage vagabond vanishes! —Jacques announced grandly, accompanying his words with a wave of his hand. A light fog swirled around the box, obscuring its outline, while beams of light alternated with quick flashes, creating the illusion of magical sparks.

The bored woman in the green dress from the third row tilted her head slightly, chuckled softly, and smirked just a little. Her gaze sparkled from under thick lashes, and her lips moved almost imperceptibly as she murmured:

—An ‘unexpected adventure’ for the assistant, huh?

The spell the witch whispered was barely audible, and a small glowing orb drifted from her hand, shooting toward the box as soon as she finished. Jacques, with an artful slowness, unlocked the box and revealed its empty interior to the audience. He circled around it, showing the crowd that the assistant had vanished, expertly keeping their attention, while Nick, inside, began to feel an odd sensation ripple through his body. Suddenly, the dark space felt tighter, but Nick figured it was just the heat and cramped walls—nothing out of the ordinary.

In the dark confines, Nick noticed a strange tingling spreading over his chest. His shirt seemed to grow tighter, with small pulsations under the fabric becoming more noticeable. Suddenly, his chest was overtaken by warmth, then a pulsing pressure. His chest swelled, pushing forward, his body changing shape as something soft and heavy began to fill out the front of his shirt. It became harder to breathe, as the odd pressure encircled his chest.

He tried to shift to make space for the strange weight and unfamiliar shape on his chest, but any movement only increased the discomfort. His chest pressed against the inner wall of the box, forcing him back.

Then he felt something tickling his shoulders and back—soft, light touches like feathers brushing against him. At first, he didn’t understand what it was until he felt a weight spreading over his back, as if his head were surrounded by long, thick hair. It slid down his neck, brushing his shoulders and grazing every inch of his skin. While Nick tried to understand what was happening and find a comfortable position, his hips began to widen, filling the tight space of the box behind him. He sensed that something thin and tight was wrapping around his legs. His backside felt unexpectedly larger, muscles stretched and compressed, and he suddenly realized his thighs were encased in something that fit like a second skin. 'What… is… happening?' he shouted in his mind.

Then, just below his chest, he felt something pressing firmly against his waist, squeezing it tighter and tighter, until every breath seemed to echo in his ribs, as if an invisible force were pulling in his sides. Strong pressure encased his hips and legs.

Part 4

And then—an icy chill crept along his feet, like the sharp point of something grazing the ground. Nick felt his toes stretching down, unnaturally elongated, as if painful, sharp supports were forming beneath his heels. Keeping his balance became hard; it seemed he would topple over at any moment. Nick struggled to stay steady in the dark, cramped space when something cold touched his earlobes—a light prick at first, then a heavy, dangling weight pulling at them. Every slight movement of his head made whatever was hanging from his ears sway and tug downward. His lips suddenly felt full, warm, and soft.

Nick no longer heard the sounds from the stage or Jacques’ words. All his attention was fixed on his body, when suddenly the box door swung open, releasing him into the blinding glare of the spotlights. Barely able to see through the intense light, he took a step forward and immediately felt the heels beneath him falter, tipping him forward. The new weight on his chest pulled him down abruptly, swinging forward with force and tugging at his skin, and he nearly fell—if not for Jacques, who caught him by the elbow, holding him steady, his eyes wide in shock. But Jacques’ professionalism took over his surprise. Swiftly gripping Nick’s elbow, he turned Nick’s awkward stumble into a graceful spin, as if it had been planned all along. Nick couldn’t keep up with the sudden turn, but Jacques held him firmly, keeping him upright.

—Ah, madame! It seems you could use some practice in heels, don’t you think?

The audience burst out laughing, while Nick, stunned by what was happening, finally looked down and nearly choked from shock. His view was now completely obscured by a pair of massive, heavy breasts, tightly bound by a revealing corset. They were so full and high that he couldn’t even see what was happening below. Waves of long red hair cascaded over his ample chest, softly spilling across the corset and slightly covering the deep neckline.

He cautiously leaned forward, trying to steady himself, and felt Jacques supporting him to keep him balanced. The corset pulled his figure in tightly at the waist, squeezing him into an hourglass shape, while accentuating the new curves of his hips. Where once there was something familiar, now there was only smooth, flat space, compressed by the corset.

Lower down, his wide, rounded hips were clad in black fishnet stockings that clung tightly to his skin. On his feet were impossibly high stiletto heels, which seemed nearly impossible to balance on.

Seeing that this "new assistant" was acting rather unprofessionally, Jacques quickly adapted, keeping a grip on Nick’s elbow and guiding him to face the audience. He flashed a charming smile that delighted the crowd, who burst into applause when the "new assistant" shyly leaned against his shoulder.

—Ladies and gentlemen! It seems the stage is indeed full of real wonders!—Jacques proclaimed easily, smiling at the transformed Nick. —I told you our vagabond was full of surprises! He… or rather, she—he added with a dramatic pause—has returned in a most… captivating form!

Part 5

The audience erupted in applause, laughter breaking out here and there. The act was clearly a hit, and everyone was convinced it was all part of the show, while Nick, stunned and shaken, tried to make sense of what was happening. His fingers almost instinctively reached toward his incredibly enlarged chest, his hand encountering something soft and delicate. Nick froze in horror, but had no time to process it—Jacques quickly grabbed his hand, looking at him with a disapproving yet amused glint in his eyes.

—Oh, oh, madame!—Jacques exclaimed, barely stifling a chuckle. He gently pulled Nick’s hand away, grinning at the shell-shocked Nick. —It’s best not to, hmm, touch yourself in front of the audience, darling! After all, we’re putting on a respectable show here!

The crowd burst into laughter again, the applause intensifying. They clapped and laughed at the "replacement" assistant, but Jacques was nearly panicking, unable to figure out who this unexpected woman was or where Nick had gone. His mind raced, trying to keep the show going as he whispered urgently in Nick’s ear:

—Who are you? Where did you come from?

Nick, struggling to keep from screaming with a mix of terror and bewilderment, whispered back:

—Mr. Jacques, it’s me! Nick!—His voice was softer, higher, with a sultry note that shocked him even more. He cleared his throat, hoping to recover his usual tone, but only produced an even gentler, more feminine breath.

Jacques blinked in astonishment, his hands twitching, and he took a step back.

—Is this something you and Devereux cooked up? A little heads-up would’ve been nice!—he whispered, eyeing Nick’s stunned face with confusion. —I must say, though, the acting is impeccable. You’re a natural!

—Mr. Jacques, it’s me! It’s Nick, I don’t know what…—Nick’s voice broke into a soft, intimate whisper that sounded so foreign it made his heart drop.

Jacques just snorted, winking at the audience, and pulled Nick offstage amid a wave of applause, while Nick, wobbling on the heels, feeling his newly inflated chest and backside bounce with every step, struggled not to fall. He tried to gather his thoughts, but the thick hair tickling his neck and the faint scent of perfume wafting from his new body threw him off balance.

Sighing, Jacques tightened his grip on Nick’s elbow, helping him slip behind the curtains. Once out of the audience’s view, the illusionist turned to him with a puzzled, slightly annoyed expression.

—Lady, as good as this act is, a little warning would’ve been appreciated!—he growled, keeping his tone level, though irritation flickered in his gaze. —Now, who are you? And what’s the purpose of this trick? Where’s Nick?

Nick, still reeling, took a deep breath, trying to steady his voice, but instead a quivering, seductive sigh escaped his lips.

—Sir Jacques, it’s me, believe me! It’s me, Nick!—He tried to lower his voice, but it only came out softer and more sensual. Nick nearly choked in despair. —I… I just got in the box, and then… this!

Part 6

Nick clutched at his chest, as if hoping to prove something by the gesture. But the moment his fingers touched the soft, rounded skin, a powerful wave of hot, frightening pleasure shot through his body, and he nearly cried out. Instead, a low, barely restrained, intensely feminine moan slipped from his lips. His mouth parted involuntarily, and before he could understand what he was doing, his gaze fixed on Jacques, and a vague but relentless desire flared in his mind… to kiss him.

Nick stepped forward, feeling his full hips and chest trembling with every movement. His face, as if under some spell, drew closer to Jacques, his eyes narrowing slightly, lips reaching toward him.

Jacques noticed the strange look on the “assistant’s” face, frowned, and took a step back, clearly perplexed. Irritated, he snapped:

—Lady, I’m married,—he muttered with barely concealed annoyance, raising an eyebrow. —So let’s skip the… theatrics.

His words were like a cold splash of water, snapping Nick out of it. He jerked back, suddenly realizing he’d nearly kissed Jacques. Panic flared inside him—what was happening to him? Why did every movement, every glance feel so… sensual? Just moments ago, he could barely control himself and… wanted Jacques? Nick swallowed, feeling heat rise to his cheeks, and quickly looked away.

—What did you do to me?—Nick whispered, his voice so soft and inviting that he barely recognized it as his own. But before he could think, his hand drifted onto Jacques' shoulder, his fingers lingering on the thick fabric of the jacket, pressing gently as if seeking support… or even closeness.

Jacques recoiled sharply, his eyes widening in a mix of surprise and irritation. He spun away, shrugging Nick’s hand off his shoulder as if it burned, and stared at him with a look of bewilderment and frustration.

—Alright, enough. I don’t know who you are or why you’re putting on this act of undying passion, but I’ve had it with this circus,—he hissed, giving Nick a cold glare. —Stay here, keep yourself together, and don’t do anything stupid. We’ll talk after the show.

With that, Jacques turned decisively and strode back toward the stage, leaving Nick in total confusion. Nick stood there in the dim backstage light, feeling his chest still pulsing from the touch, his face blazing with embarrassment. He couldn’t believe what was happening. Suddenly, Mr. Devereux rushed up to him, his eyes wide with shock, and if Nick wasn’t mistaken, a hint of nervousness.

—Who the hell are you, and where did you come from?—he blurted out, barely catching his breath. His gaze lingered on Nick’s ample figure, seemingly unable to look away.

Nick instinctively took a step back, but immediately stumbled on the towering heels, his chest bouncing again, making the blood rush to his cheeks. For a moment, he struggled with himself, desperately trying to suppress the impulses that had overtaken him. "What is this… do I want him?" he thought in horror, feeling a strange, undeniable urge to press himself against Devereux and… pull him close.

Part 7

—Mr. Devereux, it’s me… Nick,—he stammered, his voice barely audible, but so soft, with a hint of a dreamy tone that made Nick himself feel uncomfortable. His lips, now full and alluring, trembled slightly. He tried to explain, but for some reason, as he looked at this not-so-appealing man, Nick suddenly felt that all those explanations didn’t matter—just looking at Devereux sparked something new and insistent deep inside, pulsing strongly in his gut. His body reacted so quickly and irresistibly that Nick could hardly comprehend what was happening.

—I… I don’t know how to explain it, but… it really is me, Nick,—she whispered, nervously twirling a lock of red hair that framed her face. Devereux’s eyes lingered on her chest, unwavering, and Nick suddenly realized that the thought of this… excited him. Trying to distract himself, he looked down, but the sight of his heavy, boldly emphasized chest only intensified his embarrassment, which was transforming into an unfamiliar, thrilling sensation.

—Nick? Lady, are you out of your mind?—Devereux scoffed, stepping back with a look of baffled suspicion. He eyed her figure with such disbelief that Nick felt a blush flare across his cheeks. The awkwardness was becoming unbearable. Did he really not understand?

Nick felt his nipples harden, and the sensation shocked him—the light brush of fabric against his now sensitive chest felt sharp and almost unbearably pleasant, making it hard to concentrate. He felt his face flush, and tried with all his might to ignore this new, throbbing feeling, which made his body respond to every touch of his clothing.

—Damn it, Mr. Devereux… don’t look at me like that…—Nick whispered almost immediately, his voice unexpectedly breathy, with a nervous tremor. He wanted to turn away, to hide, but couldn’t bring himself to do it. A faint flame inside and an irresistible urge to stay near this man, to feel his gaze on him—made him tremble with nerves and… unexpected pleasure.

Suddenly, almost against his will, Nick, driven by an overwhelming impulse, stepped closer, feeling the soft curves of his new body instinctively leaning toward Devereux. Her chest rose slightly in the deep neckline of her corset, and she could feel his attention fixed on her body. This only fueled the desire, and, forgetting all shame, she said sharply:

—Devereux… I don’t think you realize just how much I… want you,—she whispered, tracing his shoulder with her fingertips, her voice thick with passion, completely beyond Nick’s control. Every word came out low and intimate, as if he was ready to light a fire in the manager’s soul.

Those words, spoken in a soft, almost purring tone, slipped into Devereux’s ears and seemed to utterly disorient him. He looked around, as if searching for an escape, but when his gaze met hers again, he finally lost all composure.

Part 8

— Lady... I... — he faltered, his face flushed, — but this is inappropriate, you are... just an assistant.

— Just an assistant? — Nick smiled and took another step, now standing close. This closeness, the scent of her perfume, her soft, enveloping voice — everything drove her crazy. She did not even notice how her hand, almost on its own, gently stroked his chest, feeling how her body responded to every contact with him.

— I am an assistant — she began tenderly and with some pride, her lips were a few millimeters from Devereaux's lips, and her hand had already dropped between his legs, feeling his already aroused member there. "What... what am I doing?! I... I... this is wrong!" Nick tried to scream through his already uncontrollable desire, but instead he only added — ... but you can be more than just an assistant, right? — she purred, feeling the words flow from her lips as a soft warmth, touching the skin of Devereaux, who froze, almost not breathing.

And at that moment, her lips, as if drawn by a magnet, covered Devereaux's face with a greedy, deep kiss, and he, without resisting, responded, burying his hand in her hair, and squeezing her thigh with the other.

— D-Devereaux... — She, suddenly feeling embarrassed, fell silent, not daring to continue. Breathless, she suddenly felt how her mouth opened, emitting heat, and Devereaux's lips, as if involuntarily, embraced her tongue, caressing. Nick's eyes widened, his hands trembled, and heat, like a squall, engulfed the center of his body. He tried to take control of himself, cursing, begging, but as soon as Deveraux pressed herself against her, Nick felt the world slipping away from under his feet, and reality itself felt like only feverish, jagged fantasies.

- L-lady... I, I don't know, D-d-damn, - Deveraux's hoarse, whining voice, so unusual, a little cracked, so sexy, made Nick press closer and grab his cock harder. Deveraux's eyes rolled back and her lips parted.

Nick slowly sank to her knees, feeling moans of desire fill her voice as Deveraux's hands smoothly moved first to her shoulders and then to her head. He, as if he couldn't believe what was happening, closed his eyes when Nick, not knowing what she was doing, quickly began to unzip his fly. — F-f-fuck, le-le-lady, I...

— C-call m-me... — Nick, breathing heavily, realized how a rush of desire engulfed his entire body. His voice was a whisper, filled with heat, and breathy. —...Nicole.

Deveraux's member jumped out from under the elastic of his underwear and pressed against Nicole's cheek. He wanted to groan, wanted to stop her, but she had already stretched out her hand, securely grasping the shaft, greedily squeezing her palm, feeling how she was mastering it in her palm, hoarsely, as if in delirium, he whispered:

— N-Nicole. F-f-fuck...

Nicole slowly and passionately licked the shaft, a rather satisfied, slightly smiling expression appeared on her face, while Nick's mind feverishly tried to resist new desires, but it was in vain. Deveraux looked down, and, shocked, groaned when Nicole's lips covered the head. Closing his eyes, Devereaux threw his head back, and Nicole, seizing the moment, abruptly but gently took the head into her mouth, swallowing the member almost halfway.

Part 9

Suddenly at that moment there was applause, footsteps, and Jacques, with flowers, solemnly returned, shouting triumphantly:

- Devereaux, you old devil! It was legen-

He froze, blinking his eyes, seeing in front of him how Nicole, sitting on her knees, was s***g the manager's cock, moaning. Her head was moving in some kind of rigid rhythm, and Devereaux, with difficulty shifting his gaze, as if wanting to justify himself, looked at Jacques. His mouth opened wide, but his voice, shocked, only exhaled with a muffled breath.

- J-jacques. I, I, I...

...

The lady in the third row in a green dress smiled faintly, squinting her eyes and grinning - her calm gaze sparkled with a triumphant light. Carefully tilting her head to the side, she ran her finger along the frame of an elegant mirror, which now showed not her reflection, but a picture of the backstage. Her magic allowed her to observe everything that was happening behind the scenes: Nick's amazement, and how, intoxicated by new sensations, he so easily succumbed to his new instincts.

- Ah, circus performances... always need a little extra... fire, - she whispered with a smug grin, with a slight wave of her fingers strengthening the spell so that its influence penetrated even deeper into Nicole's consciousness.

Her mirror, like a living picture, showed how Nicole, having forgotten about everything, having finished with a blowjob, began other actions, feeling every moment with a frightening passion. With a slight chuckle, the witch leaned forward slightly, watching how the effect of her spell flared up with new strength.

And the entire circus hall held its breath, wondering why no one else was announced after Jacques left, I don't know what was happening inside the wings.