Saturday Night At Magees
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A Night At Magee's: Face The Music free porn video
(elliie's comments)
When I wrote it, my intent was for the transformation to be in parallel
columns on the page. It didn't stay like that in the text file, but maybe you
can fix it up when you do whatever editing you do.
(fictionmania's comments)
We have tried to tab a section of the story below. to format it to Ellies
request. It hopefully will work in most browsers. Some older browsers
might have a problem. If you do please contact us and we will try another
method of formatting [email protected]
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A Night at Magee's : Face the Music
by Ellie Dauber
"You're sure about this," Jim Bergmann asked. He was a tall, heavyset man
about forty. His thinning brown hair was streaked with premature gray, and
he badly needed a shave. He wore a green baseball cap, a dark blue sweat
shirt, jeans and an old pair of sneakers.
"I saw the thing, man.," Don Haskins said. "He's got it hanging in a frame
above the juke box. The King' on SunRise Records, his first commercial
album. Even before Colonel Parker. There's only about fifty copies known
to exist, and Magee's has one. I checked in one of those collector
magazines. It's worth $150,000 at least, more if it's in the mint condition
that Simon says it is." Don was in his late twenties. He was a skinny man
with long, lusterless light brown tied behind him in a ponytail. He had a
narrow face with a scraggly beard. Don was wearing a dark brown leather
jacket over a yellow t-shirt and brown slacks tucked into military boots.
The two men sat in a booth in a neighborhood restaurant, not a fancy place,
but comfortable and homey for the folks who lived nearby and liked to eat out
once in a while. They'd been nursing their coffee and talking for almost an
hour, but it was mid afternoon, and they were the only customers in the
place. Annie, the waitress, came over and refilled their cups. She doubled
as waitress and cashier in slow shift. "Somebody had to drink the coffee
before it got dumped to make fresh for the early supper crowd" she thought.
Besides, Don was kind of cute in his way.
The two men had stopped talking when Annie came near the table. They
watched her walk away, ass and hips swiveling in the tight skirt and high
heels she wore to attract tips. It wasn't a bad show. Don was definitely
getting ideas.
"Probably got a ton of security on it," Jim said, restarting the conversation.
"It won't be easy getting it out of that high tech stuff."
"That's the sweet thing about it. Simon says he don't trust all that stuff.
Says it costs too much to put in and breaks down when you really need it."
"So what's he got?"
"A steel box set in the wall with a wire mesh glass door and a big old
padlock. Dangerous stuff. Take the two of us, oh, maybe, five minutes to
get it open, boost the record, and split."
"So when do we do it? After he closes?"
"No, he closes the place down himself. Then he must have a room in the
back or something, cause nobody ever sees him leave."
"When then?"
"I been watching the place for a week. He leaves about two every afternoon,
doesn't get back till almost four. And the bartender doesn't show until just
after four to set up for 'Happy Hour'. We got almost two hours."
"Right, tomorrow afternoon, then. We meet here at 2:30, have a cup of
coffee, and head over by three." The two men shook hands. Jim pulled a
dollar from his pocket and left it next to his cup as he stood up to leave. Don
went over to talk to Annie at the register. She was busy that night, but she
agreed to go out with him the next. He offered to take her to Magee's.
"Return to the scene of the crime," he thought to himself.
"Sounds good," she said. "But I hear that they're closed tomorrow night.
Harry Vitelli's bachelor party. My boss is going; he's Harry's cousin."
"Well, there's lots of other places. I'll pick you up here at six." He smiled
and told her to keep the change from the five he used to pay for the coffee and
donut he'd ordered. He was thinking of it in terms of an investment in
tomorrow's date. She smiled back as he left.
*****
The two men were back the next afternoon. Both were dressed much the
same as the day before, dark colored "work clothes". They took the same
booth as the day before, waiting for Annie to bring coffee and leave before
they began to speak. Don told Jim about the party at Magee's that night.
"Yeah, I know," Jim said. "I was in there last night and saw a sign he's got
posted. I asked about coming in early, having a drink during 'Happy Hour'.
They said that was when Harry's friends were coming by to put up
decorations. Said they all worked and couldn't get there till about five. I
watched this afternoon, too, before I got here. The old guy left just before
two today, same as always."
"Sounds like we're on," Don said. "If he does come back early, well,
there's two of us."
"Right. Let's go." As they got up to leave, Don motioned that he'd pay the
tab. He handed Annie another five as they walked out. "See you tonight,"
he said. By tonight, he'd have plenty of money, and he wanted Annie to be
as cooperative as possible with his plans for that evening.
It was only a couple of blocks to Magee's. The two men walked around to
the alley behind the building. Jim kept watch while Don pulled a thin metal
rod from his jacket pocket and knelt by the door. He worked the lock for
only a few seconds before they both heard a "click". The door knob turned
freely in his hands. They opened the door and walked in quickly. Jim
locked the door behind them just in case anybody else came by while they
were inside.
The lights were off, but the back room had high barred windows that let in
some of the afternoon sun. They walked past a small desk filled with papers
and past shelves filled with boxes of liquor. Jim thought about grabbing a
bottle or two to celebrate on their way out. There was another doorway
between two sets of shelves with a dark blue curtain instead of a door.
"Must be Simon's room," Don thought.
Both men had been in the bar enough times to know their way around in the
dim light that managed to get through the curtains covering the front
windows. As they walked past some booths, Don noticed the stage over in a
corner. It wasn't big, there wasn't much room. But Simon used it
occasionally, bringing in a local rock group or a folk singer. Today, he'd
hung a curtain across the front. It reached completely from floor to ceiling,
blocking the view of the stage from anywhere in the room. "Must be
planning something for the party," he thought.
The juke box was halfway down the same wall. It was a big old machine
from the 50s, blinking red and gold in the dim light. It had about 200
selections, old 45s that you could see stacked inside it. Simon had a pretty
good selection, too, scrounged from "oldies" shops across the city,
everything from "Happy Birthday" and "Louie, Louie" through classics of
rock to a few ethnic favorites.
Their prize was in a case set in the wall just above the juke box. Most of the
front wall of the box was glass to allow its display. A very conspicuous lock
was connected by a latch near the bottom. There was also a signed certificate
of authenticity in a small wooden frame next to the box. Jim decided that
they'd take that, too. "Probably get us a better price," he thought.
The men put on thin leather gloves. Jim pulled a small work kit from a
jacket pocket and unfolded it on top of the juke box. He studied the lock for
a few moments, then chose a hooked metal rod very much like the one Don
had used on the door. He stuck it in the lock and turned it this way and that
feeling for the tumblers. This lock was far more complicated than the one on
the back door. Jim had to work his pick for almost a minute before they
heard the "click". The weight of the lock separated it from the bar. Jim took
the lock off the latch and stuck it on the top of the juke box. Then he put his
pick back in the kit, sticking the whole thing back in a pocket.
Don had a small padded bag wadded up in the pocket of his sweat shirt. He
took it out and opened it. Jim had the box door open and was about to
carefully lift the record out from the straps that held it in place.
The lights went on. "That's enough," they heard a voice behind them say.
Both men spun around. It was Simon, standing near the doorway to the
back. He knew them both as customers, so there was no chance of an alibi.
They were caught. Don panicked. He dropped the bag and pulled a small
pistol from his pants pocket. "Don't count on it, old man."
Simon's eyebrows furrowed in anger. "You presume to pull a gun on me in
my own place." He made a strange gesture with one hand. The pistol was
suddenly red hot. Don let out a yelp and dropped it to the floor.
"I sensed that some one was after the record, so I came back. I'm sorry to
see that it was two of my customers, my friends. I had planned to just have
you charged with breaking in for a couple bottles of liquor, a much less
severe crime than attempted grand theft." He pointed at Don. "You ruined
that chance by pulling the gun. Now you'll face a different justice."
Simon gestured again, and the two men felt a charge of energy run quickly
through their bodies. When they tried to react, they found themselves unable
to move. Simon walked over to where they were standing. He walked
around them looking up and down. "Hmm, unlikely, but passable with a
little work. Well, best to get started."
He stepped back and made a rather broad gesture from his head down to his
waist. The two men stared in disbelief. Simon was a slender man in his mid
50s with graying hair. A moment before, he'd been wearing a blue work
shirt and a pair of charcoal gray slacks. Now he was suddenly in a long
dark blue robe that hung almost to the floor and had all sorts of crazy
symbols sewn into it. He seemed taller, too; seemed to tower over them.
The room seemed different, too. They had the impression of ancient stones
lit by blazing torches, a great many voices chanting as one in a language they
had never heard. Yet all they saw was Simon shaping the air as if he were
making a giant snowball; a snowball of pulsing green light. The ball of light
drifted out away from his hands and towards the two men. As it came near
them, it split in two. Jim and Don tried to get out of the way, but they were
still unable to move. One of the energy balls struck each of the men in the
chest. They screamed silently, expecting intense pain. Instead, they felt a
warmth that seemed to flow out through their entire bodies.
Simon gestured at the curtains on the stage. They parted. "Please go up
onto the stage to wait, gentlemen," he said with not a little sarcasm. Jim and
Don found themselves walking forward. They both tried to resist, tried to
run for the door, but they had no control. They walked onto the stage and
stood there about five feet apart, half facing one another.
"Thank you, gentleman. I'm afraid that you'll just have to wait to face the
music. I have a party to get ready for." The curtains closed, leaving the two
men standing on the bare stage. Over the next few hours, they heard voices,
laughter, furniture moving, and glassware clinking. They tried any number
of times to move, to escape. But it was hopeless. Their bodies might well
have been made of stone for how little they were able to make them obey their
mental commands.
The juke box played throughout the party, mostly classic rock from the 60s.
It was playing louder than usual to be heard over the laughter of the party.
Don and Jim could actually feel the music as the stage vibrated to it. They
waited nervously to see what was going to happen to them. Was Simon
going to leave them there till after the party then cart them off to the cops,
they wondered, or was he planning something really weird?
About an hour or so into the party, they heard Simon call for the room to be
quiet. "My friends," he said. "I like to think of Magee's as a nice quiet,
neighborhood bar; a friendly place where people can come to relax, and
nothing unkind or vulgar ever happens."
There were a few cheers, but also a couple of catcalls, and somebody yelled,
"Get on with it already, Simon."
Simon waited for the noise to die down before he continued. "Tonight, of
course, we're gathered here to see our good friend, Harry, off down that
long, lonesome road of monotony -- excuse me -- monogamy." The room
was filled with laughter. "That calls for a little vulgarity, I think, and so --
without any further ado."
The juke box had been silent the entire time of Simon's speech. Now it
started up again. The music was low and raucous, a slow sensuous rhythm
that seemed to go through the air and into Don and Jim's bodies. Their arms
raised, and they began to move to the music, their bodies swaying back and
forth. The two looked at each other in amazement, trying to figure out what
was happening to them.
Jim saw that Don seemed Don saw the Jim seemed to to be
getting smaller. shrink by about six inches,
even as his clothes shrank to
fit him.
Jim saw that Don's hair Don saw Jim's hair getting
was getting blonder and longer and thicker until it
blonder and that his ponytail hung down past his neck
was now a braid that hung in auburn curls.
down to his waist.
Jim saw Don's features Don saw that Jim suddenly
seem to change, becoming seemed to be wearing
more feminine. lipstick and make up.
Jim seemed younger,
too, no older than Don.
Jim saw Don's body seem Don saw Jim's beer belly
to fill out a little. He was shrink away. His muscles
still slender but not skinny. seemed to go, too, until he
was almost as slender as Don.
Jim saw Don's jacket, shirt, Don saw that Jim was
and pants disappear. Don standing there in just his
suddenly had no body hair. underwear, shoes, and
socks. He was hairless!
Jim saw breasts swell Don saw Jim grew a pair
under Don's shirt. of tits, not too big, but
They grew out to a truly not bad. Jim's waist
magnificent pair that seemed to narrow and
swayed as he moved to his hips were getting
the music. wider. He rolled them
in movements that
became ever more feminine.
Jim saw Don's t shirt ride Don saw the sleeves of
up from his waist to just Jim's t-shirt shrink to
below his breasts. The narrow straps. The bottom
sleeves disappeared as the moved up to just below
fabric molded itself around his breasts as it became
those breasts becoming a a bright red uplift bra that
bright yellow demi bra made them seem bigger
trimmed in lace. and more rounded.
Jim saw the bulge under Don saw Jim's boxers
Don's bikini brief shrink down to a bright red
undershorts melt away. thong panty that lay flat
The briefs shrank a little against Jim's crotch.
becoming a yellow thong Garters crept out from
panty. Garters hung down under the thong and seemed
from beneath the panty, to inch down Jim's smooth
moving as Don swayed legs in time to the music.
his hips to the music.
Jim saw Don's sneakers Don saw Jim's short boots
change into a pair of bright shrink down to a pair of
yellow woman's shoes that woman's shoes, red shoes
rapidly grew a three inch with a high spiked heel.
heel. Don's socks moved His socks grew sheer and
up his legs becoming a pair moved up Jim's legs to
of sheer stockings that become a pair of stockings.
hooked themselves to the
garters.
Jim's head suddenly Don head spun. He
seemed to fill with cotton. couldn't remember where
He had trouble concentrating he was, or why he was
on anything but the music. there.
All this had happened in only a few moments. Simon had walked over to
stand near the stage and began pulling open the curtains as he talked.
"Without any further ado, tonight's entertainment."
As the crowd cheered, Jamie and Dawn, the exotic dancers Simon had hired
for the evening, turned to face the music, the audience, and their new lives.
The End
Copyright Ellie Dauber. This story may be posted by the author's
permission on any site that doesn't charge, provided that it is posted without
change (including this notice). Please let me know that it has been posted,
since that's the highest compliment a writer can get
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