I started learning simple magic tricks at an early age after seeing Doug Henning on TV. By the time I had reached college, I had mastered the more elaborate card and coin tricks, and was also investing some time and money into fulfilling my biggest fantasy – grand illusions, like sawing men in half and levitating them in their tight spandex outfits.

Why men? Oh, did I mention that I came out in college? Surprise, surprise. It turned out that guys really liked my little card and coin tricks. The fact that I topped out at six feet with blue eyes, blond hair and on the muscular side didn’t hurt any, either. When I wowed the hunks at the bars with my magic tricks, it was easy to lure them home and wow them in a different way. I figured hey, I can make a living out of this.

I worked in comedy clubs and other places for about ten years. After moving to Las Vegas this year, I took my agent’s advice and made the act more erotic – you know, to get more butts in the seats. I wore black pirate shirts and satin breeches, added a few dance moves and always picked the cute guy out of the audience to “volunteer” for my close-up magic – and I got the audience laughing when I shamelessly flirted with them. My agent said that I did really well for a 38-year-old guy who was still “wet behind the ears.” However, I still needed an assistant to do the more elaborate illusions. So I decided to advertise in the trade magazines up and down the Strip.

My ad read: “WANTED – Gorgeous, strapping young man age 25-33 to assist in new Strip lounge magic act. No previous experience necessary. Women need not apply.” (Yeah, that last line was sexist, but it’s my act, dammit.)

The day it was released, a young guy named Rod called me up. “I’m interested in being in your show,” he began.

“Yeah?” I asked. “Describe yourself.”

“I’m six-three, 200 pounds and I used to play tight end for Florida State about five years ago,” Rod said. “I have dark hair, blue eyes and a cleft chin.”

So far, so good, I thought. “Do you like magic?” I asked.

Rod laughed. “Yeah, ever since I was a kid,” he said. “The cruise line I worked for recently had a magic show that I liked.”

“Oh, so you have some experience,” I said. “That’s great. Come on by my studio around 3 pm.” (My studio happened to be my condo.)

At three o’clock sharp, there was a knock at my door. When I opened it, I had to hold in a gasp. This guy was a hot stud! He kind of reminded me of former NFL player Doug Flutie (yeah, I am old enough to remember him). He wore a tight t-shirt, denim jeans and a pair of leather sandals. His tanned frame filled everything out quite nicely!
“Rod?” I asked as I extended my hand.

“Yeah…and you are Russ?” he asked as he shook it.

I invited him in and we sat on the couch next to each other. I gave him a brief overview of the job, my show and what he was expected to do. It was kind of hard to stay focused on the business at hand without resisting the urge to rip his clothes off! Rod didn’t sense my inner lust, which was fortunate because at first I thought he was too straight to be gay. But when he said that he had modeled nude for art classes in college and had tried his hand at acting and singing on Broadway, I knew he was family so I offered him the job. He accepted it with a big grin.

Now that I knew that he was THE ONE, I decided to indulge in some fun. “I was thinking about having a drink,” I began casually. “I usually have one about this time of day. Care to join me?”

Rod kind of hesitated and for a brief second I thought that I’d crossed the line. “You don’t have to,” I quickly added. “I mean, if you don’t drink I can get you a soda or something.”

Rod relaxed. “No problem,” he said. “I do drink on occasion but not right after working out. I got here straight from the gym.”

I gave his body an appreciative glance. “I can tell,” I said seductively. “Especially given the fact that you’ll be wearing some skimpy outfits when you do the act. Every woman will want to take you home with them!”

Rod smiled shyly and looked down modestly. I could swear that he was almost blushing over my compliment. When he looked back up at me with those baby blue eyes, I was on the verge of losing it altogether and excused myself to the kitchen.

I brought back his soda and I had a glass of champagne. “To our new partnership and our future,” I toasted him. We sipped our drinks and started to mellow out.

After my second glass of champagne, I felt secure enough to show him my illusions. I led him through the house to my garage, which I had converted into a magic studio. “Now remember, Rod,” I said mock-seriously. “You are bound by oath not to tell all my secrets.”

Rod laughed that cute college-boy laugh of his. “No problem, Russ,” he said.
I turned on the light in my upholstered garage. I had amassed a collection of illusions and other knick-knacks from my travels as an aspiring magician. Rod walked up and down the room with me as I pointed out my various illusions.

“I’ve seen this one before,” Rod commented as he saw my zigzag box.
“It’s one of my favorites,” I said. “But I haven’t been able to use it in my act without an assistant. You will be the first one to ever use it in my act.”

Rod lit up when he heard that. “Can I try it out?” he asked.

“Sure,” I said with a smile. I was hoping he’d want to put himself in my hands, even if it were just for the sake of “rehearsing.” I opened up the three doors to the cabinet.

Rod started to step in but I stopped him. “Magician’s rules – no shoes allowed,” I said. “You have to be barefoot to get in. I insist.”

Rod gave me that damn lazy grin of his. “No problem,” he said. He bent down and slipped off his sandals, revealing some sexy big feet. (Besides being a magician, I am a certified foot fetishist. I can tell a size 10 through 14 just by glance.)

Barefoot, he got into the cabinet. I shut the doors and he poked his head through the top opening. “Your left hand goes here,” I instructed. “And your right one goes there. Your left foot is through this opening,” I concluded. When his round, hairy toes peeked through the opening, I took the liberty of gently pulling them out further so that most of his tanned foot showed through the opening. Rod smiled and didn’t pull back, so I knew that he enjoyed my touch on his foot.

“Twist your body this way,” I instructed. Then I pushed the middle section of the cabinet towards the left edge where the metal tray stood. Rod figured out that he was still intact so it didn’t freak him out too much. (This was before that stupid “Magician Secrets Revealed” show spoiled the illusion. Bastards!)

“There you go,” I announced. Rod was seemingly in three separate pieces.
“Wow, so that’s how it works!” he exclaimed. I nodded. “What do we do now?” he asked.

“Well, if we were on stage, I’d pass a silk handkerchief around your exposed parts to prove you were really in there,” I explained. “Just move your fingers and toes when you feel the hankie. Want me to demonstrate?”

“Sure,” Rod stated. I took out a hankie from my pocket and started at the top of the cabinets with his left hand. I passed the hankie around his fingers and he obliged me by wigging them around. I gave him the hankie in his right hand, all the way over in the separate box, and he whipped it around in his fist.
“Also, there’s a small door next to your right hand,” I said. “If you were bare-chested, they’d be able to see your belly button.” I opened the door and felt his stomach as if I was looking for his navel. God, his abs were rock hard! I lifted up his shirt and found out to my delight that he had a very round, perfect belly button. I ran my fingers lightly over his stomach. “Coochie coo,” I kidded.

Rod giggled. “Tickles,” he said lightly.

“Oh, you’re ticklish?” I said with a wolfish grin. I took the hankie out of his right hand and passed it between the big and second toes of his exposed left foot. Rod squealed with delight. “Woo-hoo!” he chortled.

“You’re my captive, Rod,” I purred. “Do what the nice magician says.” I bent over and lightly grasped his exposed foot with my left hand and gently tickled his sole with my right. “Wiggle your toes for me.”

“HA HA HA HA HA!” Rod was practically screaming with laughter. His toes wiggled invitingly. “Russ, stop it!” he implored. “That’s not fair!”

I relented and we both had a laugh. Rod’s eyes were dancing and he was lightly sweating from his exertions. I thought it was time to let him off the hook. “Okay, Rod,” I said. “Now to restore you to your previous self.”

I pushed the middle section back into alignment with the other cabinet doors and Rod pulled his hands and foot out of their slots. I unlatched the doors and Rod came out of the cabinet. “Ta-da!” he exclaimed, giving an exaggerated stage bow.

“Perfect,” I said. “You’ll do very well indeed.” To my delight, Rod didn’t rush to pick up his sandals. It appeared as though he enjoyed being barefoot, and as though he knew that I enjoyed seeing him that way. I couldn’t wait to see him in the costume I was mentally designing for him – silk and spandex that showed off his package, his bare torso and his muscled arms. He would also wear nice sequined Aladdin-style slippers that I would enticingly strip from his feet for both my enjoyment and for the audience’s.

“You okay?” Rod asked, noting my silence and the faraway look in my eyes.
“What? Oh, yeah,” I said, coming back into reality. “I was just thinking up some other aspects of the act I could do with you.”

“Well, I’d like that very much,” Rod said with a grin. “Show me some other tricks.”
I showed him the modern art illusion, which was a new variation of the zigzag box. Since he’d already done that one, Rod didn’t feel the need to try it out but took my word for it. “I can see myself doing this stuff with you,” he commented. “I think you’ll find that I will be a great assistant for you.”

“So do you promise to do everything I ask you to do?” I asked.
“Sure.”

“Rod,” I commanded. “Look into my eyes.”

He turned his beautiful eyes to me. I stared deeply into them and said: “You are going to count backwards from ten. When you get to one, you will be totally under.” (I had also learned some hypnotism from some pals of mine and naughtily decided to use it on this hunk. I’m such a stinker!)

Rod didn’t hesitate; he started counting backwards and his eyelids grew heavier. When he got to “one,” I could tell that he was in a hypnotic state.

“Rod, when I say ‘relax,’ you will do everything I tell you to do.”

“Okay,” he replied faintly, his eyes closed.

“Relax…and open your eyes.”

Rod’s eyes snapped open.

“Rod, relax…and take off your clothes.”

He started pulling off his tight t-shirt and unzipped his jeans. He wore nice red bikini-style underwear and he had a huge package in them. He stood before me at attention.

“Rod, relax…and follow me up to my room.”

Without hesitating, Rod took my hand and I led him up the stairs to the second-floor bedroom. I made him lie on my bed, on top of a thick quilt.
“Are you comfortable, Rod?”

He nodded automatically.

“I want you to relax, and to roll up inside this quilt for me.”

Rod turned over onto his left side. I threw the end of the quilt over him and he rolled himself up. By the time he was finished, his head and shoulders were exposed on one end and his beautiful strong feet emerged from the other end.

Now the fun could begin. “Rod,” I said quietly. “When I snap my fingers, you will awaken. You will be refreshed and all the things you have done with me today will have met with your approval. It will all seem like a dream. And you will always do as I say when I use the word “relax.” Do you understand?”

“Yes,” he said faintly.
I snapped my fingers loudly. The vacant look left Rod’s face and he looked around. “Where am I?” he asked. “What’s going on?”

“Just relaxing,” I said with a smile. “Why don’t you get up?”

Rod tried to get up but he was wrapped inside the quilt. “Hey, what’s going on here?” he demanded. “Let me out of this thing.”

“In a second,” I purred. “I just want to stay here with you while you…relax.”
Immediately, Rod’s face softened and he quit struggling. He lay there calmly.
“Rod, will you let me play with your feet?” I asked quietly.

“Yes.”

“Wiggle them for me.”

I peeked over the end of the quilt. Rod’s beefy toes were wiggling and his soles waved back and forth.

“I’m going to tickle you now…so relax.”

I ran my hands over his big feet. He chuckled as I stroked his creased soles and round big toes. I stuck my tongue out and ran it along his beautiful feet. All I did for the next fifteen minutes was suck and stroke his big feet, the toes wiggling all the while. Perfect!

“Now I’m going to unroll you from the quilt,” I instructed. “Relax.”

Rod rolled over from left to right, undoing the quilt along the way. I got him to stand up from the bed. “Let’s go back downstairs,” I suggested softly. “You will then get dressed but stay barefoot. Stay with me on the couch…and relax.”

Rod followed me downstairs and got back into his t-shirt and tight jeans. His beautiful feet were still bare. He followed me to the couch and sat next to me.

“Lie back and put your feet in my lap,” I said quietly. “Relax.”

Rod put his massive, manly feet in my lap. Gently I stroked the soles and rubbed his toes. He smiled and exhaled a note of pleasure.

“Rod, I’m going to snap my fingers and you will awaken,” I instructed. “You will be comfortable with me holding your feet in my lap. I will massage your feet and you will not object. All of what has transpired will be in your subconscious. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” he replied.
I snapped my fingers. Rod was back into full consciousness. He saw his feet in my lap and jerked slightly. “Whoa, Russ,” he said thickly. “What are you doing?”
I looked at him innocently. “Don’t you remember?” I said. “You were feeling kind of faint in the garage so I told you to come up here and I’d massage your feet. I’m big into reflexology.”

“Oh,” Rod said as he sunk back down into the thick couch. “Yeah, that’s right. Keep doing that, man. It feels good. Gee, I don’t remember anything from the time we were downstairs. I must have been faint or something from working out.”

I smiled and kept kneading his feet between my strong hands. “No harm done,” I said soothingly. “Besides, I don’t mind rubbing your feet. I’ll do this after every show,” I said. “I promise.”

He liked that. Sighing and stretching his massive arms, he folded them behind his head and watched me ministering to his feet. “Sounds good to me,” he exhaled. “I guess you have a thing for feet, eh?”

“More than you know,” I commented. “You will soon see what I can do with a pair of feet in my hands.”

To be continued!