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From: Spoonbender <Theodore@spoonbender.demon.co.uk>
Subject: The Trick
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The Trick (?)
********************************************************
A short story of an adult nature. Not to be read by minors. If
you don't like this sort of stuff or you are underage then don't
read. Contains more innuendo than sex. Can be freely
distributed as long as it is not changed, including this heading.
If it is to archived on a fee paying archive then please email
me first for permission. If posted on free archives, please let me
know your URL. Thanks
Please email me with comments, constructive criticism, fantasies
you want put into words etc. Don't flame me if you don't like
the content, or you don't like my style as I'm still learning the
craft.
************************************************************
She couldn't remember exactly how long she'd been doing
it . . . professionally, anyway. It seemed like it had been all
her adult life; certainly from her late teens. It had started,
like many of these tales do, with a young girl leaving home for
some reason that she couldn't even remember now, to come and make
her mark in the Big City.
Life in the city was hard and before long her money ran out.
That's when he found her. He had come looking for her. She
shouldn't have fallen for his line of chat though. He made it
all sound so glamorous. Before she had really come
to terms with what he was doing, she was at it. "Doing it." He
convinced her he cared about her, and that was what made the
difference. So she did it for him mainly; and only incidentally
because she needed the money badly. If she tried, sometimes she
even managed to convince herself it was fun.
If she was honest with herself, he had started her off
pretty gently. Just a couple of easy tricks a day. Sometimes
even just one. He used to watch her doing it. At first it
really made her feel embarrassed; but after a while she got used
to it. He was always telling her how she should refine her
technique; how the tricks got better, especially if she acted as
if she liked it. That was really the key . . . the acting. The
audience wouldn't like it, if she didn't smile and make it
seem natural.
He made feel really clumsy sometimes. He'd watch her hands;
telling her that they were very important in this game. Nearly
as much use as the rest of her body. He told her that her mouth
was also very important. She really COULD put things in
there . . . she'd learn how. He then patiently explained to her
the best technique, to make it the seem the most natural thing in
the world. Sometimes she'd have to hold it in her mouth for long
minutes at a time, smiling and pretending it wasn't there. It
all depended on what the trick had called for.
Some of those early tricks were very hard. Especially for
an inexperienced young girl. Slowly, and luckily for her, her
technique improved. Until one day he decided she was ready for a
bit of stage work.
She didn't mind it so much now. She had been very
embarrassed at first, having to do it in front of all those
people. Especially because of what she had to wear for her act.
She was still, essentially a modest girl, so to have to wear
clothes that barely covered her backside was very humiliating at
first. And as for the amount of leg she showed . . . she hadn't
worn clothing like that even underneath her regular clothes
before. Still, after a while she got more or less used to it.
It used to unnerve her when she noticed one of the customers
staring intently at her, as she performed, but now she knew it
was just part of the show she was expected to put on.
Tonight, she was waiting for her new trick to be brought to
her, by one of the club bouncers. She was hoping that he would
come before she had to go on stage again. She knew he'd be
thinking that if she hadn't turned the trick round by the time
she got up on stage, then she'd end up in trouble. It had
happened a couple of times before and it was so embarrassing and
humiliating, what she had to go through. In front of all those
people too. She shuddered. It was horrible! She'd never want
to go through that again. So now she was always careful with her
tricks. Polishing them off long before she had to go on stage.
She hated that stage. She hated these tiny little clubs.
He told her that as she improved then she'd start working at
other, bigger clubs. At least they'd be warm. She wasn't sure
she wanted to have to perform at those other clubs. She'd heard
about them. The tricks were normally a lot more difficult;
sometimes demanding special equipment. She'd become used to rope
work eventually though, like you would most things, if done often
enough. She had also heard you'd have to spend more time with
each trick . . . a lot more time. Then again it might be easier,
dealing with fewer tricks. You can get used to the strange
things you'd have to do. Especially with a really difficult
trick. She knew he'd be watching so she would have to work
especially hard to satisfy him. She would do it in the end
though. He would then smile. She was always relieved to see
that smile. It showed he was pleased with her that she'd worked
the trick right. Sometimes it was almost as if the trick didn't
count . . . what mattered was pleasing him.
She also hated her stage name. He'd given it to her. It
was better than having to use her real name she supposed; but it
was still not what she would have chosen for herself. He
insisted though; so she gave in. She almost couldn't bring
herself to say it. It had such connotations. It embarrassed
her.
She could see the compere about ready to announce her. For
the umpteenth time she wondered why she did this. What kind of
hold had he gotten on her? The dealing with tricks, maybe, she
was getting to enjoy it a little. That bothered her. She didn't
want to enjoy it; she wanted it to be just something she had to
do. She only did it to keep him happy. She knew what would
happen if she didn't.
After all he had done for her, rescuing her off the street
and all. OK, so some of the tricks were hard. Trying to deal
with some of their requirements could get to be a real pain. But
on the whole, they were pretty straightforward in their needs.
Anyway each one was getting easier. In any case, the more times
she had to do it, the easier it got. She had gotten really
skilful with her hands and her mouth. Ruefully, she couldn't
think of any other profession that would need skills like hers,
in the use of her hands, and in what she could put in her mouth.
Tonight was special. He'd made a point of emphasising it to
her. She knew what that meant. Which is why she was feeling
nervous. The guys that were going to appraising her were very
hard men to please. One little mistake and she might never be
able to get out of here. She'd be working here or in similar
dumps like this for the rest of her life; because opportunities
in better places were scarce. She knew that those people from
"that club" would be here too. They'd be watching her to see how
good she was at performing. Was she making it all seem real?
Not forced . . . no faking was allowed. She had to look as
though she was enjoying doing every bit of it; and as if it was
as natural to her as breathing.
She was hoping she'd be good enough tonight. She dearly
wanted to keep him happy. She knew what would happen if she
didn't. But there were just so many of them. One or two would
be fine. She could switch her mind off to just a couple. But
there were a lot of people in that club, and she could see they'd
nearly all turned up tonight. They'd all expect her best too.
This was going to be hard.
"Take a deep breath," she told herself. "Calm down, you've
done it dozens of times before." OK, maybe these new guys were
going to be concentrating on technique and how good she was at
it. She just had to remember they were just tricks. Nothing
special. Nothing she hadn't done before . . . hundreds of times.
It was nearly time. One last check of her hair and props.
Then plaster the smile on the face. She must be smiling. Always
smiling, that was the key. Never let anybody even guess you're
nervous, or might wish to be doing something else . . . anything
else than this thing you must do on stage . . . in front of
everybody.
She could see him, with his hands held loosely at his sides.
Ready to spring into action. Like he always was. At least he
would be there to rescue her if something went REALLY bad. Only
the consequences of that were worse to contemplate than all the
rest.
Here it comes! She braced herself as she saw the compere
grab the mike and announce. "Ladies and Gentlemen, Members of
the Magic Circle. The Club would proudly like to present Donna
Blitzen, London's first female conjuror!"
Her grandfather, "THE GREAT MARVO", clapped as hard as he
could.
-----------------------
GOT YOU!!!!!!!
Now that you know what type of tricks she's talking about,
read it again and it will show you how wrong you were. What do
you think of this type of story? BTW. Apologies to any London based
female conjurers there are out there.
Theodore@spoonbender.demon.co.uk
Edited by:
_____
/ ' /
,-/-, __ __. ____ /_
(_/ / (_(_/|_/ / <_/ <_ (Many Thanks - Theodore)
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