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Author's Chapter Notes:

This story is a revised version of an old story I wrote called "Do You Believe in Magic?" Zatanna was actually the original inspiration for that story, but I decided to write a general story, instead. I decided to return to the original inspiration, however, and expand on it.

So, here it is.

I will write a short prelude for this chapter in awhile.

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended.

Zatanna: Mistress of Magic (Part I)

By Zephyrus


"This shit *sucks!*"

The audience--especially the men and women sitting right by the boy--groaned and spat disapproving comments at the haughty heckler's umpteenth interruption.


And, with his whole audience in disarray, the magician on stage stopped twirling his wand around his top hat, which rested on a wooden stool in front of him, and gave a lighthearted, amused look directly at the impudent blonde boy. His body--arms crossed, face tight with a fierce scowl--slumped in his seat with the brazen boorishness of a boy sitting in his most hated class. Or detention.


"Well," the magician said with a smile, "it seems someone doesn't like my show."


"'Cause it *sucks!* How many times are you gonna do the same old trick?!"


"I've been doing different tricks, haven't I?"


"*No*, you *haven't.* You're doing the same, old, *stupid trick* every single time but these people are too *dumb* to realize it and see through it."


The audience roared in another wave of disgruntlement at the boy, booing and hissing and shouting nasty comments. A woman sitting next to the boy glared at him from the corner of her eyes but bit her tongue and shifted in her seat.


"Now, now, now!" the magician said, waving his wand like a night stick. He still smiled. "It's all right, ladies and gentlemen." He looked back at the boy. Still smiling. "We should thank the little boy for his honesty, shouldn't we? Such honesty and criticism is rare nowadays."


The audience hushed somewhat but still glared and hissed at the boy.


"Why don't you come up here for a moment?"


For a moment, he just sat there, glaring up at the stupid old man in his magician's outfit, his big black top hat now back on his balding head, his skinny, frail body in his black magician's jacket, droopy sleeves hanging ominously from his thin arms as he beckoned the boy up.


Like a bitter boy called to the front of class by a teacher, he suddenly stood up from his seat and shuffled out of his row through people unwilling to move their legs for him, but more than willing to send him off with a nasty glare and maybe a mutter.


A deafening silence filled the auditorium as he walked down the aisle and up to the stage, beside the magician. The boy had his hands buried in his pockets, shoulders stiff as he sweat, his skin burning under the glare of the stage lights and his own presence on stage.


"So, what," the boy said, "am I gonna be one of those dumb people you experiment on?"


He laughed. "Who said anything about experiments? I just want to get to know you better."


The boy just stared at him. Him and his stupid, warm smile.


"What's your name?"




"Aaah. Nice name." He nodded. "So, Zach, what brings you to the Entertainment Capital of the World, Las Vegas?"


Zach kept his eyes down at the ebony wood of the stage, the floor beneath his feet creaking as he shyly shifted. "My father's here on some dumb business trip and he couldn't find anyone to watch me while he was gone, so he took all of us here." He laughed lightly. "Trust me, I'd much rather be somewhere else."

"Somewhere else other than Las Vegas?"

"Yeah. This city sucks. There was something much more exciting going on in my city."

"This must be something pretty big if it's making you not enjoying being at Las Vegas of all places, huh?"

"To me, it is."

"What is it?"

"A comic book convention."

"Oh, please!" someone from the audience cried, which triggered a small uproar of discontent. He heard some occasional exclamations of "Geek!" and "Nerd!" amongst the uproar.

"Shut up, assholes!" Zach yelled back at all of them. "I'd much rather be there than in this shitty city watching these dumbass shows and-"

"Now, now, now!" the magician yelled at everyone. The audience's roar soon calmed down, and the boy soon did, also. "Let's be civil, now. He's still a child and he has every right to want to be elsewhere, wherever it may be."

"Whatever," someone in the audience said.

"Get him off stage!"

"Go on with the show!"

"In a moment, please!" the magician pleaded politely. "The show will proceed after I talk to this boy a moment longer."

The magician turned back to the boy. Face warm and welcoming, like that of a therapist's.

And the boy looked at the magician. Face solid and stern with all the teenage angst in the world.

"So, you like comic books, I take it, huh?"


"Is that a comic book in your back pocket?"


"Mind if I see it?"

The boy just glared at the old man, as if he'd been asked for his wallet. After a moment, though, the boy said "Sure," and reached for the comic in his back pocket.

He gave it to the magician.

He took it and looked at the beautiful female illusionist on the cover, striking a sexy pose. "Ooooh," he said. "Who's this lovely young lady?"

"Her name's the title, stupid."

He only laughed lightheartedly. "I see, I see. Zatanna?"

"Zatanna Zatara."

He stared at the cover for a moment longer before he started to flip slowly through the first several pages. His perusal, however, was not casual in the least, like the boy or anyone would expect it to be; it was slow and deliberate, as if the man were reading a map to a destination, and the curves of her beautiful body was the road, or as if he were studying the blueprints of a building he was planning on constructing.

The boy frowned at how intensely he seemed to be reading this comic.

"It's ironic," he said, breaking the long, eerie silence that had lasted throughout his look at the comic. "You come to a magic show with a comic book about a magician!"

"Yeah, I guess," the boy said dismissively, shrugging.

The magician closed the comic book and looked up at the boy with a wide smile. "This convinces me, Zach, that you coming here today-despite how much it upsets you to be here-is fate."

He laughed a little. "Sure, old man."

"No, Zach: I mean it. I truly believe that destiny is occurring on this stage right now. Because, I can help you."

"And just how can you do that? By using your magic?"

"Maybe," he said vaguely.

The boy didn't bother to retort.

The magician walked up to him slowly and extended the comic book back to him. "What if I told you, Zach, that I can take you to a place better than a comic book convention?" He held the comic book before the boy, displaying the cover to him as if it were a game show door leading to a prize. "That I could have you be in a comic book?"

He looked at Zatanna Zatara on the cover, seemingly staring right at him, her eyes calling him to reach out and jump in the cover, like a beautiful woman in a bikini asking him to jump in a pool.

He laughed.

"I'd tell you you're full of shit."

"Watch your mouth!" a lady yelled from the audience.

"Fuck off!" he yelled back.

"Okay, okay!" the magician said, holding his hands up again. A moment of silence, and he continued again. "I mean it, Zach. I can do this for you. It'd be better than having you remain any longer in this city, watching my show-which you clearly don't believe in at all, and aren't enjoying. I believe it's the most diplomatic solution to this entire dilemma. I perform for my audience while I take you to somewhere you'd actually rather be." He added wryly, "You haven't exactly made yourself welcome, anyway, so I'm sure they'd also like to see you gone."

The audience suddenly cheered. "Make his ass disappear!" he heard someone say.

"Oh, what, this is gonna be some disappearing act?" Zach said once the acclaim calmed down.

"Oh, something like that," the old man said.

"Whatever," he said, and started to walk away.

"Now, wait a minute!"

The boy stopped.

"C'mon: what's the harm in a little trick? You don't believe in magic, anyway, right? So, the worst that's gonna happen is that you prove me and this whole audience wrong, like you think we all are, anyway, and nothing happens to you, and you walk off this stage just as you walked onto it."

"Yeah!" someone in the audience said. More acclaim from the audience. The entire audience seemed to dare him into this trick, now.

And, after all of his vulgar, inflammatory comments, Zach couldn't back out now.

The old man held out the comic book to him like a hook.

He just looked back at the magician and laughed lightly. He snatched his comic book out of his head and stuffed it back into his back pocket. "Okay, old man," he said.

"Good!" he clapped his hands.

The deal was on.

"Stand in the center of the stage, please."

Zach took his place center stage and faced the audience, eyes locked ahead to the distant doors in the back so he could keep the bitter scowls of the audience from biting into his skin.

The magician stood slightly to the side, in front of Zach, and faced the audience. "Ladies and gentlemen," he began. "Our assistant here, Zach, seems to not be enjoying his time here in Las Vegas, especially my show. So, let's send him on a trip to the comic books!" The magician looked back at Zach, sizing up his attire. "But, he needs to get dressed appropriately before we send him there." He looked at the audience, giving a knowing, wry grin. "Let's dress him, shall we?"

John turned back to Zach, raised his wand like a rifle and pointed it sharply at his body, as if shooting an invisible bullet of bullshit.

And then, he said: "Sehtolc egnahc!"

Zach frowned deeply.

"What did you just say?"

"What do you mean?"

"Did you just speak backwards?"

"Maybe," he smiled.

This smile contained a certain mischief and evil that Zach had only seen hints of throughout. Now, it revealed itself fully and unashamed.

Then, suddenly, Zach' socks felt--funny.

He didn't know how to describe it. They just somehow felt softer and silkier inside his sneakers. With his eyes popping wide, he nearly gasped as he even felt them--this softer, silkier material--slowly but surely climb up his hairy legs like a soft, silky snake, these illogical movements only concealed by his blue denim jeans. Curiosity and panic tempted him to raise his pant legs to see what the heck his socks were doing under there but he tried to keep his composure. Maybe his legs were just going numb. Socks just don't become soft and silky and climb up your legs.

"Something the matter, Zach?" John said.

With the material at his knees, Zach lost it and smacked his thighs as if he could impede its slow, steady climb. Yet, with the untouchable slyness of water, it simply passed beneath his palms to rise to his hips, underneath his briefs, only stopping slightly above their waistline.

"What the--" Zach said but the beginning of a slow increase in height cut him off. Which he didn't mind. He couldn't believe he was growing but he also couldn't complain, since he'd wanted to grow a few inches, anyway. His feet felt increasingly funny, though: as if his sneakers were--

"Look!" a woman in the audience shouted. "His shoes!"

Zach' head snapped down to his feet and saw what were a pair of black Nikes shrink into the delicate, shiny, thin material of black pumps, their roofs splitting open, betraying him by revealing the tops of a pair of petite, fishnetted feet, the pumps' spiky heels slowly rising more and more, inching higher and higher into the sky until he thought they'd never stop!

Like a newly lit spark igniting a small fire, laughter slowly grew from the audience.

Zach's mouth just dropped as he gazed in wide-eyed disbelief at the pair of petite, fishnetted feet now prettily perched upon black, five-inch spike-heeled pumps. The kind of whorishly high heels he saw on these Las Vegas showgirls!

"Oh my--" Zach began but, with a sudden intense tightness in his already tight briefs, he was cut of once again as the tightness suddenly suffocated his manhood. He could feel the tight material of his briefs soften, too, and the wife beater beneath his T-shirt followed suit, softening as it inexplicably fused with his briefs, with two hollow, yet prominent protrusions conspicuously denting his white T-shirt.

His shaky, clammy hand yanked up his T-shirt to reveal to himself and everyone else a black, soft, sexy, satin, high-hipped leotard, its soft, luscious satin shining sexily in the light. The high hip cut suggested that the leotard intended to emphasize a fabulous, full, beautiful butt.

The audience now roared with laughter.

Zach couldn't speak. His shaky, clammy hands roamed around his soft, satin-covered upper body, squeezing the humongous cups as the stage lights glared down on him harder and hotter than ever before.

"Pretty sexy leotard you got there, Zach," the magician said, smirking. "Perhaps you can tell the women in the audience where you bought it?" The audience exploded with laughter again.

Zach looked at John, his mouth wide open but void of words. Suddenly, the short sleeves of his white T-shirt lengthened down his arms in the same slow fashion his socks had, until they stopped at his wrists with big, bulky cuffs, fastened with feminine-looking golden cufflinks. White, cotton, collared gloves appeared on his hands. His shirt's center split from its neckline to the bottom, sealed again only by buttons that magically appeared as the collar of a woman's white satin blouse blossomed like a flower from his neckline.

A black bowtie topped it off.

A black, buttoned vest materialized on his torso; it had a low-neckline that opened at his abdomen, just below his ribcage, revealing the entirety of his white, breastless chest inside his soft, white, women's blouse, allowing space for a full, bounteous bust to burst forth, yet, for the time being, still a blank, gaping white space not yet filled. The vest fit slightly loose just like the white, satin blouse beneath it, and the sexy, satin leotard beneath that, waiting to be filled with the incredible curves of a voluptuous woman.

A long, black, magician's jacket suddenly draped itself around his arms and shoulders, its two coattails hanging down to the middle of his thighs.

Lastly, he felt a sudden weight on his head--the weight of what could be none other than a top hat: big, black, and bulky like that stupid old man's.

John laughed--his only slightly audible above the audience's. "There's no need to hide underneath those jeans, Zach. If you got it, flaunt it!" he said, raising his wand and stabbing it at his jeans.

Zach' hands apprehensively clung onto his blue, denim jeans--the one article of clothing saving him from the bottomless quicksand pit of utter humiliation he now found himself rapidly sinking in--however, in an attempt to back away, he tripped in his 5" spike pumps, causing the audience's laughter to pick up as he fell back on his (for now) skinny, bony butt, underneath which was his comic book, which had fallen out of his now non-existent jeans.

But their laughter didn't pick up as much from his trip as it did when the disappearance of his jeans revealed to himself and everyone else a pair of hairy, ugly, unshapely male legs stretched out before himself, comically encased in black fishnet pantyhose, which disappeared beneath the pantied-crotch of his tight satin leotard, against which a small penis struggled for room and air. The blouse only hung as low as his navel, exposing his leotarded bottom and crotch for the open ridicule of everyone.

The audience, although shocked and incredulous, nonetheless guffawed at the sixteen year-old pretty boy completely dressed in a typical, yet sexy female illusionist costume. Zach could swear he heard people screaming "Fag!" and "Sissy!", heckling him with malicious comments, hurling them at him like feces, saying "Look at how *small* it is!" and "Needle dick!" and "Look how pretty he looks!" while others whistled and hollered.

Zach looked down at the sexy, provocative outfit that his slender, flat, boyish body now ridiculously wore. "What the fuck?!"

A thought had came to him.

With his gloved hands and his high-heeled feet, he scooted his bony, fishnetted, leotarded tush off of his Zatanna comic book and looked at its cover.

He compared his outfit to hers.

It was-

"Oh my God!"

"I know," the magician said. "I did a pretty good job, huh?"

John then stood center stage and faced the audience with a wide grin as he brought his hands and lowered them, motioning for silence.

Slowly, they calmed down.

Zach could only sit there, his soul shrinking underneath the sizzling glare of the stage lights which shined on him like a specimen in a glass case, his face burning with embarrassment, his skin sweating as his heart beat hard beneath the chest of his leotard.

"Well," John said to the audience, "it seems our guest is now properly dressed for her trip. However, it looks like she woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning, eh?"

Laughter. Zach didn't notice John now referred to him as a "she."

"Should we give her a makeover?"

Uproarious applause.

"Very well!" John span around on his feet to the poor boy sitting on the stage in drag, gloved hands gripping his clothes, face wide-eyed and terrified as he stared at the old man like a murderer. He brought one of his fishnetted legs up and tried to push himself backwards with his 5" spike heeled pump.

"What the fuck are you doing?!" Zach said. "Change my fucking clothes back, you freak! I didn't want this! And, even if I did, I thought you meant a male-!"

"Now, now, now," John said with the tone of a gentle doctor talking to a child screaming about an injection, waving his wand like a syringe, "this will be quick. Let's go from the bottom to the top, shall we?"

He aimed the wand at his legs.

"Raeppasid, riah! Ylepahs dna ,ylevol ,gnol emoceb, sgel!"

And, suddenly, his legs tingled.

With gloves hands and spiked high heels, Zach struggled onto his feet again, but the tingle remained. And, this time, it wasn't from being faint with fright, or the stage lights! He could tell because, as he watched his fishnetted legs, their hair (as well as the hair all over his body) suddenly shrank into nothingness, leaving the soft, smooth, silky skin of a beautiful woman who just came from the spa, and his legs lengthened while some invisible force started carving his calves into a slim, curvy shapeliness only further emphasized by his sky-high heels and inflating his thighs to a thick, mouthwatering juiciness, growing taut against the fishnets.


"Give her some real long ones!"

"From here to New York!"

"Nice thighs!"

And they went on and on and on until he couldn't take it anymore. On his increasingly sexy legs, he tried breaking for a run once more, but ended up tripping toward the stool. His gloved hands reached out and gripped its seat, leaving him bent over with his back facing the audience, giving everyone a view of his evermore voluptuous legs, with their thickening thighs and incredible calves, only partially obstructed by his twin coattails.

"Interesting position!" John said and tapped his butt. "Keep it."

And Zach was paralyzed. All the fiber of his being couldn't even make him twitch.

"*LET ME GOOO!*" he shouted, his first words in quite awhile.

"Ah ah *ahhh!*" John tipped his head with the wand. "The magician's assistant is not allowed to talk during a big performance. Her only job is to stand there and look pretty. Ecnelis!"

And Zach was silenced. He couldn't even open his mouth, much less make even the tiniest squeak.

His eyes began to water as John raised his coattails like a curtain, revealing his skinny, bony, fishnetted, leotarded butt to the audience. "Let's give her a little *padding*, shall we? Cushion for the pushin'?"

The men roared.

 "J Lo boooty!"

"Give her a big, fat ass!"

"White girl wit' aaaass!"

"Courtney Black!"

The magician laughed and spanked his bottom with his wand, for an unnecessary but naughty effect to his command:

"Noollab ,ttub elbbub lufituaeb!"

With a warm tingle, Zach felt his butt cheeks seeming to swell inside his fishnet pantyhose and the pantied-bottom of his sexy leotard. He shut his eyes, gritted his teeth (which seemed to be all he could do with his mouth), and tightly and desperately clenched the muscles of his ballooning butt cheeks, as if that could stop its slow inflation. His desperate efforts were futile, however, and, when he relented and released his muscles, he merely felt the soft, inflating fleshiness of his ballooning booty jiggle juicily. And further his butt bubbled and ballooned, like dough rising in an oven, the pantied bottom sinking further and further in the deepening valley between its inflating cheeks.

He whipped his head back to see over his small, soft shoulder and his eyes widened with horror as he witnessed his fishnetted butt cheeks slowly and sensuously swell behind him, high in the sky, fishnet pantyhose tightening more and more as they strained to contain its increasing corpulence (along with his thick, meaty thighs). Along with all of this, his hips widened, flaring forth from his small waist, which shrank into a more tapered, convex form.

He whipped his head forward and caught the comic book lying on the floor, in front of the stool. His eyes glued themselves to Zatanna's terrific hourglass figure and her lovely lower half-her wide hips, her whittled waist, her beautiful bubble butt-which he could feel himself attaining more and more with every numbing tingle, with every swell of his buttcheeks, with every pop of his hips. He had always loved her lower-half: the long, lovely legs in fishnets and high heels, how her coattails coquettishly curtained her corpulent rump. He thought with horror at how he now had those same legs, and the rest was on its way!

From the audience--mostly the males--there came a steady, booming, bass chant of "*BOO-TY! BOO-TY! BOO-TY!*"

John did not disappoint: they got booty.

A few seconds later, Zach's back suddenly cracked as his spine curved in, forcing him to thrust his beautiful butt high in the sky, giving an inviting view to everyone.

At the same time, his manhood seemed to be yanked back into his crotch, leaving a hole which thinned and lengthened into a sensitive slit which eliminated the ugly bulge that ruined his otherwise gorgeous lower-half.

Left behind was a remarkable bubble butt supported by wide, curvy hips--on which a sexy, high-hipped leotard straddled high on--and long, luscious legs with fabulous fishnetted thighs and curvy calves, petite perched prettily in five-inch pumps. The thin strip of a now thong-backed leotard sexily divided the big, bulbous bubble of a butt into two rotund hemispheres of soft, sumptuous, perfect, fishnetted fleshiness.

A soft, round mound lied between his lovely legs, indicating the vulva of a woman.

With Zach's new, fantastic ass arched invitingly high in the sky, and with his coattails raised like the skirt of a naughty schoolgirl, John spanked Zach's butt with the wand once more, as if the wand were a ruler, as he had before its transformation; only, now, the impact caused his new booty to jiggle with a juicy gelatinousness, its soft, rich fleshiness rippling like an ocean.

And then men roared.

John smiled. "My assistant now has quite the remarkable butt! I must say, she sure puts the 'ass' in 'assistant'!"


Like lowering a curtain, John lowered his coattails again, suggestively curtaining his full, fishnetted, leotarded tush from full view, yet still not completely concealing all hints of its captivating corpulence. Zach found himself able to stand upright again, so he did. He felt the new, natural curvature of his spine as his new, fantastic ass jutted majestically behind him in all its gorgeous juiciness as he stood in his black 5" pumps. The twin tails of his magician jacket juicily jutted outwards at the conspicuous, bulbous abundance of his butt, the tips of the tails tickling the incredible, curvy, fishnetted calves of his long, luscious, pantyhosed legs, the sexy fishnets flashing sexily in the stage light, glittering with a showgirl glamour. The way they seemed to shimmer in the light seemed to be magical in and of itself!

And that terrifyingly flat satin crotch!

As Zach' gloved hands explored his newly voluptuous lower half--patting his wide hips, gloved hands incredulously squeezing his round, plump rump through his fishnets, and feeling his crotch.

"Look!" someone in the audience shouted. "His lil' wee-wee's gone!"

And it was true. Between his wide, round hips and his full, fleshy, fishnetted thighs lied a perfectly, femininely flat, leotarded crotch. The tight white blouse, as mentioned before, ended at his navel, leaving the bottom, "pantied" part of his lustrous leotard fully revealed, exposing his newly lush, leotarded tush and his perfectly, femininely flat crotch--undoubtedly the crotch of a fully functional woman. The tightness of his leotard's crotch betrayed him, displaying his new femininity in the absence of the puny penis the entire audience had laughed at moments ago.

They laughed.

Zach girlishly clamped his lovely legs together, his fishnetted thighs gnashing sexily against each other, his gloved hands concealing his new womanhood from the world. The undeniably girly pose only provoked further laughs: he looked like an embarrassed girl trying to keep her skirt down in strong winds.


"Hang on, ladies and gentlemen," the magician said, "she's not finished yet!"


Zach looked at John and tried to scream "Stop this!" but no words left his mouth. His mouth did not even move. Yet, somehow, John knew.

"Now, now, my dear assistant, I can't just stop in the middle of my biggest magical performance, can I? That's bad for business. So, for your safety, I'll have to ask you not to move for the rest of the performance. Just stand and look pretty." He pointed his wand once more.

Zach's body, with a mind of its own, stood center stage again and faced forward, staring at the back wall once again. Like a mannequin on display.

He could not move.

"Titties!" one man yelled. And, laughter once again spread through the crowd like fire in a forest, and the men chanted "TI-TIES! TI-TIES! TI-TIES!"

"What an eager audience! You're all too kind."

Zach mentally gasped in horror.

The magician walked up to the comic and picked it up. He glanced at the cover for a second before walking holding it up to Zach, showing him the cover of the comic book heroine that he now looked like from the waist down, and was becoming more and more.

"Well, you tell me, Zach: what size do you think these babies are?"

He stared in horror at her humongous bust, bulging dramatically over the lapels of her black vest and threatening to burst through her white blouse-the very same vest and blouse he now wore, too.

His mouth gaped with terror, but no words escaped. Any other time he would have been aroused to the point of masturbation: now, he shuddered at what seemed to be his bust-to-be! Hell if he knew what size they were! All he knew is that they were fucking huge and he didn't want them!

"Oh," the magician said with feigned woe. "I forgot. You can't speak."

Zach could only swallow.

"Let me ask the audience!" he suddenly yelled, walking around Zach and going downstage, holding up the comic book cover for all to see, allowing all their eyes to feast on the bust-to-be of the comic book heroine he was becoming. "What size would you guess?"



"Double D's!"

"Fuck it, just make 'em as big as you can!"

And they went on and on.

John eventually hushed them. "I think I've decided!" he said and pointed his wand.

"Snoitroporp ralucatceps ot worg ,stsaerb!"

It was as if the wand was a shotgun and he was shot point blank in the chest.

Zach could feel it: he could feel his tiny nipples suddenly swell in a way no male nipple could have ever done, and he could feel its surrounding flesh rise like dough and it rose and rounded until his nipples grazed the lacy insides of the cups. And, as his shoulders thinned and softened, and as his arms lost what little muscle they had to give way to a soft, feminine flabbiness, and as his hands shrank to a dainty, graceful, feminine size inside his white gloves, they grew. All the while, he struggled to keep his eyes from darting down and viewing the rapidly inflating protrusions. His kept his eyes locked on the back of the auditorium as hard as he'd ever kept his eyes locked on anything. When his eyes started to itch with dryness, he shut them tightly, biting his tongue, trying to shut out everything and tell himself that this was just a dream: he wasn't dressed up as Zatanna Zatara and he wasn't growing tits before an entire auditorium of men and women. However, no matter how badly he tried to flee into the darkness behind his eyes, the torturous chant of "TI-TIES!" tore through his thoughts and echoed hauntingly in his ears.

So his breasts kept ballooning, filling more and more of his satin leotard's big, bulky chest, gradually reducing both that and his blouse into an intense tightness, growing ever wider and tighter at his chest while still tightly tapering to his sexy, flat waist. Soon enough, his sizeable breasts had filled the leotard and still grew, his evermore tremendous bust thrusting out over the low lapels of his black vest and now severely straining the top button of his blouse as the growing melons pressed against each other and bulged outwards, competing for space.

Zach could only take in quick, horrified, hyperventilating breaths, feeling the inflating mounds of flesh jiggle with every rapid rise and fall of his chest, as his ballooning breasts heaved heavily on his chest. He shut his eyes tighter.

When his two top buttons popped off, rousing even stronger laughter from the audience, he gasped and, finally being unable to help himself, he looked down.

The milky white tops of two brand new, tremendous breasts stared back up at him, heaving heavily and voluptuously with every panicky breath, straining inside a skin-tight, white satin blouse, unbelievable cleavage beautifully framed with frilly-laced lapels and topped with an adorable black bow tie.

He glanced at the cover.

His humongous bust bulged majestically from his vested chest in an identical fashion to the babe on the comic book. Yet, they jiggled and wobbled and weaved in ways no comic book artist could ever capture.

Even though he couldn't see it, below his majestic chest the tight, white, satin blouse tightly tapered to his sexy, flat waist, from which a plump pair of wide, fishnetted hips flared fabulously outward from the high-hipped, thong-backed bottom of a black, lustrous leotard.

"Oops!" John said as the audience hollered over the button popping. "Seems I overdid it a bit. I guess that's enough."

And, with a point of his wand, they stopped. But, the damage was done.

Zach's eyes watered even more.

"Now, for the face!" John said.

"Give her some DSLs!"

"Some big, cocksuckin' lips!"

"Red lipstick, too!"

"Big, baby blue eyes!"

He laughed as his pointed his wand one last time.

"Mrofsnart, ecaf!"

Zach felt his face spasm and twist. His chin narrowed and rounded as the magic inflated his lips, pouting more and more until he wondered if they were puckering. That, combined with their new red, glossy lipstick made them protrude with a fabulous fullness and shine with an erotic luster perfect for that one random man's perverse comment! His big, wide nose shrank into a tiny, adorable button size as a ravishing rash of rouge ravaged his rising, plumping cheeks. An unbearable burning sensation in his eyed forced him to shut them as his eyelashes lengthened and curled outwards with the lush luxuriance of a movie star's. Black shadow appeared on his eyelids. He felt his hair grow, filling his top hat more and more; a few beautiful fringes of silky, sable strands slowly seeped forth from underneath the lid, like water slowly seeping through the cracks of a failing dam. However, soon, the hat failed, and a raging, gorgeous waterfall of fabulous, luxurious brunette hair burst forth his scalp as the top hat fell off, the luxurious, silky locks cascading down the sides of his face, unfurling luxuriously like a black cape, brushing his plump, rouged cheeks, covering his ears (which now had big, gaudy, golden star-shaped earrings), tickling his jacketed back, bangs brushing his small forehead, until it all stopped at the middle of his back.

His eyes opened anew with a beautiful baby blue. Everyone gasped at their spellbinding beauty.

The audience gawked with gaping mouths and wide eyes as Zach had finally disappeared, as they so wanted, replaced with this buxom, busty, brunette beauty on the stage, straight out of a comic-book, with the incredible, curvy, comic-book body to prove it.

"Ladies and gentlemen: I present to you, Zatanna Zatara!"

And, they applauded. Everyone last one of them stood. Men whistled and catcalled. The woman that had been sitting next to Zach laughed.

And Zach could only stand there and stare at them, with his new blue eyes. Watering. 

John soon hushed the audience again, even though a few men here and there still whistled and hollered.

"You may speak now, Zatanna."

Zach decided to ignore the new name and take this one change to speak, so, in his 5" pumps, he turned to John, hair swaying and earrings swinging. "What have you--"

He immediately stopped, his dainty, tiny, graceful gloved hand grasping his throat, the other hovering horrifically over his luscious lips, gaped in an opulent O of awe and shock, as his big, blue eyes widened at the voice. He had just spoken with the sexily breathy, irresistibly sultry, soft soprano voice of a seductive game show hostess!

And it made everyone laugh.

"Lovely voice you got there, Zatanna! Reminds me of Marilyn Monroe. Anyway, aren't you curious to see how well the transformation went?"

"No! I-"

"Oh, yes, you are!"

He lifted the wand again.

"NO!" Zach screamed in his sweet voice.

"Raeppa, rorrim!"

Before Zach's horrified yet still beautiful face, in between himself and the magician, a mirror magically appeared.

"Don't make me look!" he screamed, his dainty, gloved hands girlishly shielding his pretty blue eyes, like a girl looking away from a scary movie.

"Look at yourself!" from behind the mirror, he pointed the wand again. "Era won uoy ohw ta kool! Revoc eht no od uoy ekil esop dna!"

He could not control himself; his hands removed themselves from his face and placed themselves on his wide hips, which now cocked themselves sexily to the side. His shoulders pushed themselves back, thrusting his humongous bust forward, and he arched his back, jutting his juicy booty behind him. He took one hand to take his hat in his hand, which had fallen off from his hair growth, and now had a wand in it, and he put it on his head, holding the wand at his side.

He looked in the mirror.

He saw Zatanna Zatara, the sexy superheroine sorceress of Gardner Fox's and Murphy Anderson's creation, from ink and coloring to flesh and bone, more identical to her comic book image than any actor or casting-director could ever hope to achieve. A comic-book superheroine come to life, with the unbelievably beautiful, comic-book beauty and the curvy, comic-book body to go with it. Beautiful, luxurious brunette hair hung down to the middle of her back, brushing the sides of her face, her shoulders, and the back of her neck along the way. Her gold, star-shaped earrings sparkled in the light like stars themselves, framing the sides of her spellbindingly beautiful face, whose baby blue eyes twinkled like magical sapphire gems or crystal balls. They were eyes that could cast a spell on any man without so much as one backwards-spoken word! A gaze was all it took, and any man would be under her spell! He knew for sure that he was! Despite the fact that the command made him unable to look away, he knew that, if he had the freedom to, he wouldn't have-he couldn't have!

The black eye shadow on her eyelids and the black eyeliner gave an air of mystery, making her eyes look like magic boxes with unknown contents or origins. Her luscious red lips were curled into a coy, devilish smile that, combined with her eyes, gave a strong air of mischief, as if she were about to perform a trick, or as if she were about to invite you to join her on stage!

To top it all off, her black hat sat atop her pretty little head like a crown, anointing herself the Mistress of Magic, Zatanna Zatara, and none other.

Her tight, white blouse was (impressively, provided her impressive chest) buttoned up over her humongous bust, all the way up to the collar, topped with a black bow tie, in a classy, non-trashy, yet still sexy manner; her breasts, despite their lack of skin exposure, jutted majestically forth from her vested chest as dramatically as they did on the cover, still leaving no mystery as to their impressive size as they visibly strained the buttons of her blouse. Her blouse and leotard hugged her incredible comic-book curves, tapering from her majestic chest down to her sexy, tiny, flat waist, which then flared fabulously into a sexy set of wide, rich hips, behind which a huge bubble butt bulged juicily out to the world in its thong-backed leotard, its corpulence coquettishly curtained by the cute twin coattaills that hung down to her knees. Her legs, long and lovely as any pair he'd ever seen, shimmered and glimmered in her glitzy, ritzy fishnets, ending with her pretty feet inside black five inch pumps.

All in all, the pose was pretty provocative and covergirl-ish! And it was all too familiar! From that minx-like expression to the thrust of her bust, to the twinkle in her eye.

Then, he realized:

It was the pose from the cover of the comic book!

Although he couldn't see it, the magician was holding up the cover to the audience, so they could even see for themselves just how identical the gorgeous sorceress on stage was to the comic book heroine.

Both Zach and the audience were equally in awe.

Underneath his fixed seductive pose and expression, he was in terror. His heart pounded in panic deep underneath his tremendous chest; he could now hear and feel the blood of the Homo Magi race course through his veins with every horrified heartbeat he heard in his ears.

"Eman ruoy yas," the magician said.

The sexy sorceress in the mirror opened her lovely lips, still smiling: "I am Zatanna Zatara," she cooed, zestful as if introducing herself to an audience before starting an act, yet seductive as if giving someone backstage "private performance". "Mistress of Magic."

Everyone laughed.

Zach could do nothing but stare at his sexy reflection, smiling on the outside, yet crying and wanting to die on the inside.

"Ecneidua eht ta kool dna esop ruoy peek."

Zach turned in his high heels to look at the audience; however, his pose remained. The magician stood next to him, holding up the comic book practically right next to his face. The audience could now see a side-by-side comparison: the gorgeous sorceress was literally ripped right from the cover, identical to every incredible curve of her body, down to every follicle of hair.

Everyone was in awe.

"Flesruoy ecudortni!"

Zach could feel lovely lips opening again:

"Hello, boys and girls," she cooed yet again. "I'm Zatanna: Mistress of Magic."



The audience's cheers were so deafening, Zach could hardly hear his mind cry in dread. His eyes combed through the audience: people pointing and laughing, many with tears in their eyes, many slapping their knees. He could see through their gaping, guffawing mouths, straight down their cavernous throats, seeing their cavity fillings (if they had any), seeing their tonsils jiggle. He heard several shouts of "Bimbo!" and "Stupid bitch!"

Zach's eyes would not even well with tears. He could only stand there and stare, posing sexily, smiling.

The magician rose his hands, motion for the audience to calm down. After what seemed like forever, they finally did, however, some intermittent chuckles and giggles, along with some occasional comments, still broke through the silence.

"So, we've finally dressed and made up our guest!" the magician proclaimed. "Now that she's dressed and ready to go for her trip, let's get her flight ready!"

The audience roared again, despite the fact that they had no idea what was about to happen. They just wanted to see the magical comic book bimbo gone.

The magician placed the comic book on the stool gently, as if setting a table cloth for a dinner.

He gave one, final, somewhat lustful look at the sexy superheroine sorceress that had come to life before his eyes and the entire audience, still posing provocatively in a stance straight from the cover.

"You ready to go to your world, Zatanna?"

The sorceress simply kept staring at the audience like a statue.

"Very well, then!"

He pointed his wand at the comic book.

"Nepo, latrop!"

A sudden gust of wind exploded in the auditorium, the air sweeping at Zach's coattails and chilling his fishnetted legs. The force that swept through the auditorium also seemed to sweep away the lighting and electricity as the stage lights dimmed deeply, as if to signal the final act of a performance.

A pink pillar of light exploded from the comic book cover, with sparkling twinkles and stars occasionally popping out like the embers of a fire, illuminating the stage and the entire auditorium in place of the greatly dimmed light. Finding that he could now move and speak freely again, Zach looked at it. The glorious, glamorous, girly brilliance of the light nearly blinded him, making him wince.

The audience ooo'ed and aaah'ed.

After the explosion, the pillar shrunk down into a soft, pink glow that emanated from the cover, shining through softly like the light of a window to another world.

And so it began.

Zach first felt it as several silky strands of his jet black hair waved softly in the book's direction, his coat flapping lightly, as if a tornado were approaching and these were the warning winds. This warning wind quickly escalated into torrential speeds and cataclysmic inclemency: her coattails flapped madly about her fishnetted legs (the muscles of which had tightened, trying to resist and fight the sudden pull of the book) and her hair whirled wildly about her terrified yet beautiful face, all flying towards the comic book. He realized what was happening.

The comic book was trying to suck him in!

"NO!" he screamed, trying to fight its pull. He attempted to raise his right, high heeled foot and plant it slightly back, to gain some leverage and slowly increase his distance from the book by inching his way back.

The book, however, had the relentless, unstoppable force of a black hole. The winds pulled his foot forward a step, his foot coming down on the wood of the stage with a loud CLACK, bringing himself one clacking step closer to the world of Zatanna.

The magician stood by the stool like a gatemaster, completely unaffected by the winds, as calm as an undertaker at a funeral.

"Please!" he grunted girlishly as he still tried to fight the force. "Don't do this to me!"

He shifted all of his weight to back of his heels, trying to plant the spiky, tall heels of his pumps onto the ground as much as he could to secure his footing. This proved to be futile: the tall, spiky heels simply scraped the wood of the stage, leaving behind trails, as he slowly slid forward towards the book more and more.

"You can't escape your fate, Zatanna!" the magician yelled over the winds.

After a few more seconds of sliding, Zach stood before the comic book. He planted his gloved hands on both sides of the stool in order to fight against the pull on his upper body.

Through his flailing brunette hair, he stared down into the comic book cover as if it were a cliff he was now at the edge at. Its pink brilliance, now at its strongest since he now stood right in front of it, nearly burned his big, terrified blue eyes, like the light of a train staring him directly in his face!

He stared at the superheroine on the cover: his beautiful, yet terrified face stared at her face, so much like his own now, and he watched her eyes gaze at him with that powerful, spellbinding gaze he had seen on himself in the mirror. It was almost as if her eyes were the powerful force pulling him in!

He couldn't look away: the spell was cast upon him, both body and soul. He now stared into the eyes of his fate-into the eyes of himself. He was no longer looking at a comic book cover: he was looking at a mirror, at his own reflection, at himself.

He was now Zatanna Zatara, the Mistress of Magic.

The magician leaned in and stroked the side of her face, watching the realization in her eyes. "You see it, now, don't you? It's your destiny, dear."

Zatanna said nothing.

The soft hand that had stroked her cheek a moment ago now firmly gripped the back of her neck.

"Farewell, Zatanna!"

He pushed her face into the cover of herself: her lovely lips touched first, as if kissing her own reflection in a pond, yet, like a pond, her face quickly fell in, as if it were submerged underwater. If the book were a black hole, its cover was the event horizon, and she was on her way past it, to disappear from the universe to all observers, never to be seen again.

Her arms, still on the outside, still held onto the edge of the stool, but the pull of the cover was now so strong, her arms soon gave in. With these two last beacons of resistance and hope gone, the cover sucked in the rest of her body as easily and smoothly as a person slurping up a wet noodle into their mouth; the coattails of her coat, her long, fantastic, fishnetted legs, and her five-inch high heeled feet, all sucked in.

And, at that, the winds slowly died down, the lights slowly came back, concluding the transformation of Zachary Zanetti to Zatanna Zatara, and his transfer from this world, into hers.

The magician looked at the audience and bowed, smiling wildly. "That's all, folks!"

The audience simply stared in silence.





She found herself zipping at lightspeed through a pink wormhole with glittery, girly sparkles of white all along the walls, twinkling like stars, as she fell deeper and deeper down the rabbit hole, deeper and deeper down the pink esophagus of this new universe that was swallowing her. Her magician's robe, with their cute coattails, flapped wildly behind her like a superheroine's cape while in flight, her hair flailing behind her as well, her top hat magically staying on her head. She could barely keep her eyes open, with how the velocity of the wind ate away at their moisture. Her arms flailed frantically at her sides, as if she were falling from the sky.

Her intermittent, bloodcurdling screams of "NOOOOOO!" echoed throughout the wormhole as she flew down it.

Ahead, she saw a tiny, black speck that rapidly grew larger and larger as she approached it. It looked like some sort of dark area she was rapidly flying to.

Soon, she reached it, and found herself lying down in darkness, face up, eyes closed.

As if from a long, deep hypnosis, she slowly opened her eyes.

And saw nothing.

Panicking, she waves her arms wildly; her gloved hands hit two wooden walls directly at her sides.

She kicked her high-heeled foot forward and hit a wooden ceiling that seemed to be extremely low-directly in front of her face, she confirmed as she felt with her hands.

She seemed to be in some sort of box.

Testing this, she pushed at the ceiling with her hands.

Sure enough, it opened, and a flood of light shot in at her eyes, causing her to wince and squint.

She heard uproarious applause. At the sound of this, after having been mocked mercilessly by an auditorium full of people as she transformed into a comic book superheroine, her heart jumped with stage fright. She felt apprehensive. She hyperventilated. She did not want to face any audience.

Yet, she could also hear something slightly different; this applause actually sounding praising, rather than jeering.

Her eyes quickly adjusted to the light: she opened them fully again and stared at the bright stage lights that stared directly down at her like the sun.

"Wasn't that an amazing disappearing trick, everyone?!" she heard an announcer say.

Although apprehensive, she couldn't stay in the box forever.

Like a scared soldier taking a peek out of his trench at the risk of being shot, she slowly peeked her pretty little top-hatted head up out of the box she had been lying in, and her blue eyes peering over the edge of the box .

Their applause surged greatly at the sight of her.

She could only stare at all of them, wide-eyed, bewildered, and worried, as if she had awoken on another planet and saw aliens in the audience.

"Ladies and gentlemen!" said the announcer, "give it up for the best magician in Gotham City: Zatanna Zatara, Mistress of Magic!"





This concludes Part 1 of 4 of the Zatanna Series.


Stay tuned for the next part, in which our new superheroine discovers her powers, learns more about her history and heritage than she could've ever learned from a comic book, and embarks on a journey to return to her old world, and her old body!


To be continued... (Incomplete)
Zephyrus is the author of 2 other stories.

This story is part of the series, Zatanna Zatara: Mistress of Magic.
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