Invisible Chair Trick Novels & Stories

I wound my arms around his neck, my platinum hair spilling over his shoulders like a silken shroud. "Ready, Mr. King?" I murmured. "I've never been more ready to humiliate a room full of people," he whispered back. I gripped the joystick on his armrest with my left hand, hidden beneath the folds of my dress. With a gentle nudge, the chair began to glide. We didn't just move; we drifted. I steered the chair in slow, elegant circles across the marble floor. To the observers, it looked like Nathan was controlling the movement with his mind, his eyes locked onto mine with an intensity that felt private, almost indecent for a room this size.

She chose a large trunk, that hadn’t suffered too badly, to begin her staircase, and placed a side table on top. Then she put a couple of chairs on top of that. With those pieces stacked, she figured she could climb through the hole and hoist herself up and out. She took a deep breath, said a little prayer, and started her ascent. When she reached to put her hands through the hole, she was met with the unexpected: an invisible wall. She patted her palms against this wall to find that it completely covered the opening.

She was a bit confused, but after a moment of hesitation, she moved forward. However, she was wearing five-inch high heels. The height difference between her left and right foot was too big, so she could not walk properly. When Ivanka tried to walk forward, her body still leaned to the right! She could not grab the tree anymore since it was now behind her. Ivanka’s expression changed. She immediately stretched out her arms to break her fall. Yet… a strong arm suddenly held her by the belly. Ivanka looked even more flustered as a result.

Emmeline followed his curt instructions to heart and straddled the padded roller, pulling her lower body off the seat with her hands gripping the extended handles. She slid forward until her legs were fully extended in front of her, then pushed herself back toward the start in one smooth, controlled motion. "I think I like this machine," she remarked with a pleased smile, giving an experimental roll of her hips to maintain her balance. "It's easy to use." "You're doing it wrong," Zavian countered with a derisive snort. His sharp rebuke made Emmeline's cheeks burn with humiliation. Her head snapped around to gape at him in shock, prompting him to continue.

The playroom held a sawhorse, a swing, a chair that had restraints along the arms, and the legs designed to restrain a person at different points or possibly all at once. It had a chain running along the length of the ceiling that dropped down in the middle. I knew this one well, it was a hoist, and it was meant for you to hold your arms over your head and generally went with a spreader bar at the bottom, to keep your legs spread about shoulder-width apart. It was one of Jordan's favorite techniques, he would keep me on the edge for what seemed like hours before he would lay me down on whatever surface he could find and take me from behind. A shiver went through me, and I had to bite my chee

If I rock hard enough, maybe I can make things a little more difficult for them. Leaning as hard as I can to my right, I lift the legs on the left side of the chair by about an inch. I start to tip. One of them catches the chair, setting it straight again before slapping me hard in the mouth. "Damn it woman, you wanna fall? You are in a moving van. What if the back popped open?" Oh, that's an idea. "Muck Woo!" Screaming around my bindings, I lean heavily to my left, and then again to my right. The chair rocks from side to side and I fall over to hit a cold, hard surface with a clang.

“Then sit.” She stepped forward and slowly lowered herself into the chair. Victor stepped in front of her, his eyes sweeping down her form with clinical patience. He reached behind the chair and pulled a lever. The armrests separated slightly, shifting outward and forcing her shoulders wider apart. Her spine arched involuntarily from the adjustment, her breasts now fully lifted and exposed to him.

I wondered. Nora put a hand on the pole, giving the room a demonstration. Her body unspooled like silk. She moved through an inverted trick. A complicated combination of twists that ended in a controlled drop where she would release one hand and spin through the air, landing in a split and hooking her foot behind her neck like some impossible contortion. She made pain look like poetry. Yikes!

Hadley My knee shakes as I sit on the couch in Trick's living room. The damn cat has taken up the seat next to me and keeps looking up at me. I swear he's taunting me. Five minutes ago, Trick asked me if I wanted to shower first, and when I said no, he went into the bathroom and shut the door. I can hear the water, and my imagination's running wild.

Madrid, 2020 Blackwheel's legs bent in the only open space he had, his feet searching for some space in the open floor above him. It was as if he was upside down, facing the ceiling. It was as if he was opposing gravity. Carefully, he turned and planted his feet on the ground. Then, as he felt a hand around his neck squeezed tighter, he closed his eyes and extended his legs like a cow that had been caught cheating. The carpet shifted, ever so slightly, but enough for him avoid touching the floor.