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Lisa shivered at the word 'cutting'. This idiot clearly couldn't be trusted and now he was proposing to cut her in half. She knew magic tricks were just that - tricks - and that Magician's Assistants were always restored and shown to be whole at the end of sawing illusions. She sincerely hoped that this was an illusion, maybe one with a small jigsaw with a false blade, or a spring loaded blade he would pretend to push through her, but at the bottom of her mind, some primordial part of her brain considered the real physical danger of blades. Her imagination filled with unwanted images of razor-sharp edges slicing through her flesh and toothed saws ripping into her helpless body. She felt a cold fear descend knowing she was completely at the Magician's mercy; she was firmly bound into an inflexible metal frame, and gagged. She couldn't run, she couldn't scream. Lisa was totally exposed and knew she could only be absolutely passive as this man inflicted whatever he wanted on her vulnerable body.
The Magician had fixed a little handle to a cog mounted on the frame at Lisa's left hip, and as he started winding, Lisa found out the frame wasn't inflexible. The Magician turned the handle slowly and the frame - and Lisa in it - began to bend in the middle. Lisa felt her upper half start to lower itself as she was bent over at her hips. There was nothing she could do as she felt the weight of her chest being taken by the straps above and below her bosom. The Magician continued winding the handle, and Lisa discovered another subtle articulation in the frame surrounding her: her back began to arch slightly, pulling her chest back towards the vertical as her waist continued to be lowered. The Magician finished his winding and Lisa was left bent over at the hips with her waist horizontal and her upper body bent back at 45__ as if she had her hands planted on a table she was bending over.
A thought crossed Lisa's mind reminding her of the last time she'd been bent over like this and she momentarily forgot about the cheap-suited Magician and his infernal equipment...
The fiesta was loud and long, and nobody noticed Diego pulling Lisa into an alley between two cafes. It was 2:45am. She'd met him at midnight at a churro stall, and had been laughing at his broken English chat-up lines ever since. He was very Spanish: dark skinned, thick black hair, confident and macho. Lisa had three days off and was staying at the airline's corporate apartment in the city with two other hostesses. They'd known before they'd landed that their leave coincided with the largest fiesta of the year and were well prepared. All three of the stewardesses were single, and they'd agreed they were all open to whatever liaisons the night might present to them. Lisa had succeeded first, and had abandoned Sara and Emma in favour of Diego over an hour ago.
They'd danced, they'd flirted, they'd drunk sangria and Estrella, they'd eaten jamon iberico and gambas. Then they'd given in to the tension they'd both felt, given in to the urges that had brought them together in the first place, and whispered not-sweet-at-all nothings into each other's ears. Diego's deep voice and guttural - and repeated - pronunciation of the word 'culo' had Lisa's pussy moistening as she returned the compliment by telling him where she wanted to feel his jizz. He understood well enough, and his eyes darkened as his easy demeanour became nothing more than raw lust.
"I can't see how I'm going to saw you in half with you like this, Lisa," he said. "I'd have thought you'd need to be laid down flat." He clapped his hands together.
He dragged Lisa into the alley, behind some commercial wheeled bins, and pushed her up against the wall where he kissed her forcefully and thrust his hand between her legs.