Page 112 of Circus From Hell

“No, you do,” Micha interjects. “Karma is ours now. If she wants to continue working here, she can. But she has free will, like the rest of you.”

I laugh loudly. “Free will? Free fucking will?” I pull out and slam into her. “None of us have free will. We’re all broken, tainted, ruined. We can’t go anywhere else.” Her eyes bore into mine, her pussy gripping me like it never wants to let go. “Don’t insult me with free will ever again. None of you have true free will. And Karma? You will never—” I slam into her with the force that makes the silk stretch. “—ever—” A second time. “—be free.” A third time, and she screams out, tightening her hands around the fabric and convulsing as her orgasm overtakes her body. Sparks singe the fabric, making my cocks tingle in a way I’ve never experienced, and my teeth dig into my bottom lip hard enough to make it bleed with the difficulty of forcing back my own orgasm.

She gets three before I paint her insides.

Two to go.

“No wonder your boys can’t please you. This pussy suctions like it’ll die without cum.” I scoff and wrap my hand back around her stitched throat. “Another one, dead girl. Give me another one.”

My balls slap against her ass with every thrust, and when Arlo reaches over to pinch her nipples, she cries out again. More pathetic, more tired. Her pussy twitches, her sparks shine brighter, and it’s another fight to hold myself back as a second orgasm waves over her.

The electricity in her body may be whirring harder, but I can see the fatigue slowly beginning to creep over her.

“Good fucking girl,” I groan, working her cunt through the last of it, but I don’t stop. Her head leans back, body succumbing to exhaustion. Maybe this is what she needs. Four of us, five cocks, every night for a chance to be satiated. “One more. One last one. Then you’ll sleep, but I won’t stop there. I’ll come for you when you least expect it, Karma.”

I should mean to kill her, but deep down, I know that’s not why I’d be sneaking into her tent in the middle of the night. It would be to use her unconscious body until she’s wrung me out.

“You got this, baby,” Arlo whispers, caressing her body like he truly cares about her. The way he’s looking at her, the way they’re all looking at her… It makes me pound into her harshly, the possessive need to be better than them overtaking me. I’m not a jealous person until it comes to Karma.

Her pussy is so warm, so tight. My balls tighten with oncoming pleasure, but I don’t want it to end, don’t want the pain to come back.

She tugs her head back up to look at me, eyes half-delirious from orgasms and exhaustion. I’ve never seen her so submissive, and knowing it was me who brought her this far makes me rub her clit in circles to drag her over the final edge. It’s weaker than the rest of her orgasms, and the voltage isn’t as strong, as though I’ve truly satiated her, and I grunt out my release when both my cocks fill her full of cum.

I keep dragging in and out of her pussy as the pleasure slowly subsides, and I can feel the distant pain returning. Before I can comprehend anything, I’m pulled away, my cocks slipping free, and thrown to the floor. Soren straddles me, but I’m too preoccupied with the growing pain in my head to care as he shoves the muzzle over my head.

“She will be free from this place, clown. I’ll make sure of it,” Soren whispers, and his voice has a hard edge that makes me think he doesn’t just mean free of Kreo’s ownership. He means free of Kreo entirely, of his circus, of me.

He’s going to take my Karma.

CHAPTER THIRTY

ARLO

Iwake up on the floor of the big circus tent. My back aches from sleeping on the rough ground, but the discomfort is immediately soothed by the sight beside me. Karma is curled up in a ball like a cat, and Micha has his arm draped over her waist, his hand resting on my lap. Soren is on my other side, his muscled bicep beneath my head acting as a pillow.

The crack in the entrance flaps reveals it’s still dark outside, and it doesn’t feel like an hour has passed since we fell asleep as a jumbled pile of spent bodies.

Soren had removed Karma from her restraints when she’d passed out after tying Spiral up in the corner with some rope. He’s asleep on the floor now, wearing only a muzzle, and a stab of guilt penetrates my chest. I know the others liken him to a dog, but he’s still a person. A mean-spirited person with issues, but a person.

I carefully move Micha’s hand and make my way across the show ring, picking up Spiral’s jumpsuit as I go. When I approach him, his eyes blink awake, as if his body never succumbed to deep slumber.

“What do you want?”

“You said she fixes you,” I say quietly, sitting down in front of him but far away enough that he can’t reach me if he tries to lash out. I place the jumpsuit beside me.

“What are you talking about?” he groans, looking up at the ceiling and rubbing his forehead. I can hear him clearly behind the muzzle, but the sight of it makes me uncomfortable. The rope is strapped around his chest and neck, tying him to a pole, and I can see the red marks caused by the rough friction on his skin when he shifts.

“You said Karma fixes you. That she’s better than any alcohol or painkiller. Does that mean you’re in pain?”

He huffs out a frustrated laugh. “You don’t know what pain is, Curly.”

“Yes, I do.” I blow out a breath and look at the trio on the floor in the middle of the tent. “We all do.”

“Oh, yeah?” He winces as he straightens, the rope pulling against his throat. “You know what it’s like to have a constant pounding in your head that spreads through every inch of your body? To the point where the only thing that comes close to touching it is a bottle of whisky before bed every night?”

“That’s why you drink? To get rid of the pain?” I ask. He averts his eyes. “But Karma makes it all go away.”

“Karma’s pussy makes it all go away,” he corrects, like that distinction is important.