The Disappearing Act

Everyone is 18 and consenting.

I never figured out how he did it.

Orion showed up one day in the back of the curiosity shop where I worked, smelling like costume glue and lavender oil, with this old leather suitcase with silk scarves and brass rings sticking out of it.

Orion was about my age, eighteen, but he looked like he belonged to another world entirely. Thin, wiry, with curls that framed his pale face in a way that made him look half-dream, half-delinquent. He reminded me of Timothy Chalamet in Willy Wonka, except more handsome. He dressed eccentrically, like someone had dared him to raid a vintage thrift store, tight purple pants that were tight on his narrow hips, silk shirt with too many buttons undone, and a long velvet coat that smelled like smoke and rain. He walked like he was used to being watched, like he liked it. Confident, smooth, a little theatrical, but not in a cringey way. Well, it might've been cringey to someone else. But I thought he was cool from the first time I saw him.

He made me feel weak in the knees. I wasn’t gay, or at least didn’t think I was, but the moment I saw him, I wanted him to think I was cool. He was exciting in a way nothing else was. Strange, stylish, confident. He excited me, like he had cast a spell on me.

He said he needed a space to practice, his voice casual but somehow charged, like there was a secret behind every word. He offered me eighty bucks to help with his routine. I said yes immediately, not just because of the money, but because it felt like a dare, like stepping into a movie I wasn’t supposed to be cast in. It was exciting. I didn’t even ask what the trick was. I just wanted to be near whatever strange energy he carried around like perfume and static.

The trick was called The Vanishing Boy. Spoiler: the boy was me.

The first time I got in the box, I expected to be bored, but I knew I was consenting to whatever was about to happen. The second he closed the door, I felt something shift. Tingling sensations rose and fell across my body, like waves moving through me, inside me. It wasn’t like being touched. It was like becoming touch. I gripped the sides of the box and felt my knees nearly buckle when it stopped. It was freaky, but I liked it. I couldn’t explain it, but it made me want to go again.

I asked him how he did that. He just smirked, confident as ever, and shook his head. "You're not ready to know," he said. And for the first time, I realized I didn’t know anything about this guy. Not where he lived, not what school he went to, not even if Orion was his real name.

"Wanna go again?" he asked.

I nodded.

The second time, I didn’t just feel the tingling. I came. I literally jizzed. Completely untouched, in total darkness, I finished in my pants and curled forward, overwhelmed. It felt like a wet dream and a static shock all at once, sharp and bright and intense. Almost painful, but so good I didn’t want to move. I just let it happen. Like my whole body exhaled through my spine. He hadn’t laid a finger on me. At least, I don’t think he had. I opened my eyes, dazed, breathless, and he was just standing there, brushing a strand of hair behind his ear like he’d been waiting for me to come back from wherever I went.

“Magic,” he said, with that grin. “It only works on certain people.”

After the fourth or fifth time we did the trick that day, Orion packed up his velvet cloths and metal rings without saying much. I kept asking how it worked, but he only smiled and said, “You're not supposed to know. That ruins it.”

Then he left, just as quickly as he had appeared. No goodbye, no explanation. Just a mysterious boy disappearing into the dusk like he belonged to some other story.

He was back the next day, and thus began a period of my life that I'll never forget.

He would guide me into this upright velvet coffin, whisper something I never quite caught, then close the lid. Inside, the world went silent, then alive. Not with sound, but with sensation. My breath would get short, and something like heat would move through me, from spine to hips to the backs of my knees. Sometimes the lights flickered when I came out. Sometimes my legs wouldn’t work. But the trick was never about disappearing. It was about what happened inside.

I don’t know what kind of spell I was under, but I kept going for it every time he came back. I wasn’t sure if I was straight, gay, or just enchanted. He never asked, never pushed. We just kept rehearsing.

He made me disappear. He made other things happen too.

And I still don’t know what I am.
But I know what he made me feel.
And I know he never lied.
He said he was a magician.
And he proved it.

I never told him exactly what happened to me in the box, but he clearly knew. It was his trick after all.

It was usually just him and me, since no one really came into this shop.

After a couple weeks, the effects of the trick on me started to wane, like it was dull. I was pushed right to the edge but never crossed over it anymore. One day I went into the box six times, trying to have that pleasurable feeling but never reaching it.

After the sixth try in the box left me hot, frustrated, and aching with no release, I stumbled out and collapsed on the little couch in the corner. I was panting, flushed, and still hard, the sensation unbearable in how close it came without tipping me over.

Orion watched me for a while, head tilted. He crouched next to me, close enough to feel his presence but not quite touching.

"You're stuck," he said. "The energy isn't moving right."

I asked, breathless, "What does that mean?"

He smirked, that same confident, knowing expression he always wore. "I could help you unblock it. If you want."

I nodded before I even knew what I was agreeing to. I just knew I couldn't take another second of that pressure.

He guided me to my knees in front of him.

And I let him.

His fingers brushed under my jaw first, barely there, like checking if I was real. Then lower, deliberate but never forceful. My breath stuttered, not from fear, but from something more like reverence. He took his time, watching me the whole while, like he was studying the way I responded. I didn’t look away. I didn’t want to.

I reached up and pulled down his pants. He was enormous, like something wild and otherworldly had curled out of him. I had never pictured myself in a situation like this in my life, but the spell he had put on me was working. Once I brought him up to my lips, he took over, his hips moving in a slow, confident rhythm, as if my mouth were part of the performance. I put my hands on his ass, pulling him into me and swallowing what I could. I hadn’t even touched myself, but I could feel the pressure building inside, a rising flame that spread through my core.

I came, and it hit me hard. I shook, eyes wide, unable to breathe through the wave that crashed over me. It was like the trick all over again, except this time, it was his body doing it to me. He finished moments later, letting out a soft grunt, holding the back of my head, my lips stretched and red, my jaw sore.

His essence inside me was another kind of magic. It didn’t taste like mine, which I had tried on occasion. His was sharper, with a strange citrus tang and a salty aftertaste, like some kind of strange juice only he could produce. I didn’t mind swallowing. When he pulled out, I even licked the rest off my lips, like I didn’t want to waste a drop.

Before I knew it, his meat log was back inside his pants. I didn’t even see him do it. He moved so naturally, so quietly, that it was hard to tell if he was just sneaky or if it really was magic. I didn’t even know. And all of this had happened right in the shop, right there on the creaky little carpet near the back shelf of novelty tarot cards. If someone had walked by and looked inside, I had no idea. I hadn’t thought about it until it was over.

He left with his stuff, and a quick, "be seeing you."

When he was gone, I wiped my face, licking my lips to get one last taste of him. I started to wonder about this mysterious guy. We went to different high schools, I guessed. There were only two in town, and he definitely wasn’t from mine. He was the kind of guy you'd remember. He wore eyeliner on weekdays and smelled like incense and matches. There were rumors about a kid who’d hypnotized his chem teacher. Maybe that was him? Maybe not.

—[]—

I didn’t see him in the store the next day. Or the day after that. After a week, I started to wonder if that experience was real or if I had just imagined it. The days passed on and I essentially forgot about him. 

Then, after a few weeks of silence, he messaged me on snap after school, a selfie of him looking directly at the camera, eye liner as thick as ever, with a caption: “Want to see a new trick?”

I didn’t even know how he got my snap account. I replayed it several times, until I noticed the mirror in the background, where you could see his bare ass. It looked so toned in the photo. Two bouncy little melons and no hair. I flashed back to gripping his cheeks as I pulled his oversized cock further into my mouth.

It was surreal seeing him again, when I hadn’t heard a word from him since the day he had whipped out the biggest cock I could even imagine and jizzed in my mouth. 

I responded back “hey”. Then a minute later “ok”. He replied simply with an address.

I told my mom I was going to Will’s house. I brought a Mountain Dew and a hoodie, and that was it. He gave me his address and I didn’t recognize the street name, but it showed up on google maps.

I had never been to this part of town before. I didn’t even know there was a neighborhood here. It was eerily quiet for only being 5pm. Right when I got to the address, he snapped me again: “Come in through the side door, turn left and come to the basement. If you see my mom just tell her you’re my friend.” 

I looked up at the house. It looked like it had once been an old fancy Victorian, unusual architecture for my town. It had seen better days, needing a new roof and some paint. It honestly gave haunted house vibes. I swallowed my nerves and opened their old, metal gate, letting myself into the front yard, and walking to the side path as he told me. 

—[]—

It was lucky I had brought a hoodie because the first thing I noticed when I walked in was that Orion’s place was cold, even though it was a hot day outside. I descended some old, creaky stairs and found that his basement was draped in tapestries and candlelight, and there was music playing, something low and eerie, like monks humming underwater. About fifty lit candles filled most of the open surfaces in the basement. No sign of Orion, just a big couch, and a bunch of “magic stuff” basically. Like books and boxes and costumes. This place is a fucking fire hazard, I thought to myself.

I started looking through his shelves of books. They were different than the ones at the shop. These were actual antiques, or else really good replicas. The titles were written in such ornate scripts that it was hard to make out the titles. Just as I leaned into a heavy looking book bound in some strange leather, I felt a chill.

“Hey,” he said from behind me, startling me. I flinched as I turned around, smiling when I saw his face illuminated in candlelight. My heart started racing being this close to him again.

“Hey,” I said back, smiling lightly at seeing the strange, mysterious fellow again.

He didn’t say much. Just motioned to a chair in the center of the room that I hadn’t noticed before. When I sat, he stepped behind me and placed his hands on the air around my shoulders. Not on me. Just around me.

Guess we’re starting on the new trick.

“Close your eyes,” he whispered.

I did.

I don’t know how to explain what happened next. My skin buzzed, like I was being watched by the stars. My heart beat louder than the music. Heat spread down my chest, my spine, lower. Every nerve lit up like it had been waiting for this, whatever this was.

I wasn’t breathing right. My whole body clenched, then…

It was over. I blinked. My jeans were tenting. I didn’t even know when I’d gotten hard. I didn’t know how much time had passed since I closed my eyes. I only knew Orion hadn’t touched me.

“Was that…” I started.

“A trick,” he said.

“...Did you hypnotize me?”

“Do you want me to say yes?”

I didn’t answer. I was too afraid of what yes meant. Still, I was consenting to every second of whatever this was. It was thrilling. And, honestly, I was even more afraid that it wasn’t hypnosis at all.

He took my hand and led me to the rug in front of the flickering candles. I thought maybe we’d do another trance, or some illusion with cards. But instead, he kissed me, just once, light as breath. Then he guided me down, gently, but commandingly, whispering something against my ear that I didn’t understand, but it gave me a shiver down my body. 

When he moved behind me, it was sudden. I looked back at him, and realized my pants were already off. My bare ass was facing him, and when I looked down I saw that his pants were off too. As quick as a blink, he was completely naked, and his elephant trunk of a cock, rock hard and throbbing, was pointed directly at my body as I rested on all fours. He moved like it was a ritual, slow and careful. My body was already open to him, and I felt a sense of excitement building inside me, urgently awaiting what was about to happen.  I was so excited I had consented to doing tricks with him, because it turned out that, with Orion, tricks were life changing experiences.

He leaned in and started licking me. I immediately melted into it, dropping my head to the rug and lifting my ass up higher, pressing back into him. His tongue explored me for a long time. I closed my eyes and let it happen. I have no idea how much time passed before he lifted his face away from me, got up on his feet, and squatted down, aiming his monster right at my hole.

I don’t know if it was the magic trick he had done or if it was just his energy, but when he entered me, it felt like a warmth I’d been chasing for weeks finally poured into my center. I didn’t cry out. I just closed my eyes and let it happen, let him happen to me, and tried to breathe through the heat and pressure and magic of it. Isn’t this supposed to hurt like hell?

It was intense, and my mind was racing, but it wasn’t scary to me. His hands held my waist, firm but gentle, and each motion felt like another layer of myself peeling away. I didn’t have to touch myself to feel an amazing sexual release coming. The sensation from him alone was enough. The pressure built up in my hole while he picked up the pace and started really hammering me. I looked down between my legs to see his pale thighs tensing as he pressed his enormous hog into my body. His balls were so large, and I watched them slap against my body, flopping in every direction while I felt him penetrate the deepest parts of my body. 

He didn’t announce when he was going to cum, but when he froze, I could feel his throbbing member stretching my body from the inside in pulsing waves. His face got within an inch of mine, and he kissed me again, his tongue probing my mouth. He gave one more thrust, and I came. It was like something deep inside me had been summoned and released. I squirted so hard it hit both of us on the chin.

Afterward, he didn’t disappear like the last time. Instead, he poured me some tea from out of nowhere. Chamomile and something bitter, but pleasant. We sat in silence for a minute, while I felt cum running out of my hole, sitting cross legged on his rug, almost staring at him, enjoying his presence. I assumed he knew that cum stains were going to happen, so I didn’t bother freaking out about it. We talked about magic tricks, and it was clear that he knew way more than me, as expected. 

Back at school the next day, I played basketball at lunch and argued about which Elden Ring weapon was most broken. No one asked what was up with me. No one noticed anything different, but my mind was altered. Inside me, something had vanished. And something else had taken its place.

That afternoon, I opened my phone to message him on snap, but his account was gone. I wondered if he blocked me, but I looked for his id on a new account, and there was no sign of it. I felt myself choking up as I walked home. When I grabbed the mail on the way in, I saw a purple envelope addressed to me with no stamp on it. I opened it, and, of course, it was from Orion.

“Bad news. Family is moving back to Europe,” the letter started. I didn’t even know he was European, but it made sense with the eccentricity. The letter went on to say that he was ditching his phone in favor of written letters, saying I should write him back. He added that he had enjoyed our time together and would never forget me. I was overwhelmed with sadness, and a sense of loss, but I was still happy that it happened. He left his new address at the end, some village in Romania.

—[]—

Every few months after that I’d receive a letter, and we’d catch up on our magic tricks and stuff like that, but he never really revealed much about the mystery that was Orion. Without the snap message, I couldn’t remember his address, and I was never able to find that house again, or even the block it was on. 

I didn’t see him again, until one day, my freshman year of college, he randomly appeared at my dorm room door.