Page 28 of Circus From Hell

“He’s going to kill me anyway.”

That’s true. Eventually, when Kreo has exhausted all his tests, he’ll kill this thing and pick it apart to put it into jars.

“Yeah, you’re right. Fine, starve yourself if that’s what you want. Saves me having to come back in here.”

I’ve not seen this thing properly in the few days I’ve been tasked with feeding it. It stays huddled in the corner. But Kreo must have knocked it out with some heavy anaesthesia to get it here because it looks big from the size of its back alone. The steel bars are the only thing keeping it inside, but it’s not made any attempt to escape as far as I can tell.

Kreo won’t be happy if this thing dies on my watch. So, despite me wanting to leave it, I ask, “What food do you want?”

“Anything that isn’t fish,” it grumbles back. I guess it can have some of the performer’s leftovers tomorrow. Probably chicken.

“Ugh, fine.” I leave the fish in the cage. I’m not risking my arm—which has already been bitten tonight—trying to get it out. I’m sure this thing is waiting to strike.

I shut the trailer door and try to reset the numbers on the lock, but my fingers don’t coordinate with my eyes thanks to the whisky. I give up, leaving it open and taking another swig of the nearly empty bottle.

When I turn to walk down the small step, I’m faced with Moxie and her dark brown eyes, open wide and staring. She’s one of my best clowns. Her bright pink hair is curly around her oval face, contrasting with her deep brown skin, and her lips are always red, painted with a heart. The jumpsuits she wears are colourful, not reflecting her soul.

“What do you want?” I sigh, fed up and ready to pass out in my tent.

“You know what I want,” she says in her usual seductive tone, gripping the collar of my jumpsuit and dragging me into her. “Dolly and Baxter are waiting for me in the show ring. I thought you’d want to join us. Your big cock needs some attention tonight, doesn’t it?”

Usually, I’d say yes, despite how tired or drunk I feel because I love an orgasm. Dolly gets herself off silently whilst Baxter and Moxie take turns sucking me dry, but tonight… Seeing Karma with those guys has thrown me for a loop. I can’t stop thinking about it and getting this weirdly possessive pang in my chest.

“Not tonight, Mox. Go suck Baxter off instead.”

She doesn’t follow orders well, especially when it means she’s not getting her way, so I’m not surprised she chases after me when I start heading back to my tent.

“Why the hell not? You didn’t join us last night either. What’s wrong with you?”

No, I didn’t, because I was too busy obsessing over Karma.

“Nothing. Just piss off, Moxie.”

She stops, and I don’t check to see where she goes, ignoring her distancing presence behind me and focusing on getting to bed. Moxie has always been sure of herself. All of us are self-obsessed attention seekers, aside from Dolly. But Moxie really doesn’t like feeling unwanted. She thrives off the attention. Dolly is quiet—she never speaks and doesn’t like others touching her, so she gets herself off whilst the rest of us have fun. And Baxter severely lacks personal space awareness. The funny one who most people don’t like to be around for too long. He’s good for getting his throat fucked.

We get together most nights, but plenty of the other performers like to join in. A big orgy is held the night of the last show before we leave for a new city, a celebration of success. Karma has never been involved in any of these—she’s not allowed. Most of the others thought she couldn’t feel emotions, let alone arousal, and wouldn’t be happy with her there.

Now I know that’s not true. The feeling of her sliding back and forth over my cock as she succumbed to her desires will haunt me for the rest of my life. If I thought I was already obsessed with her… But I’m not allowed her. She’s off limits. She’s Kreo’s.

One of us is going to die if I don’t control myself.

My arm is still bleeding from where she bit me earlier, and fighting her has exhausted me. Turned me on, but it’s tiring. I should probably do something with the wound like wrap it in gauze or pour whisky over it. Instead, I head to bed.

My mattress feels so much comfier when I’m buzzed with alcohol, and the spliff on my dressing table looks real enticing. There’s not much left, so I quickly light it and lie down, holding it in my mouth and letting smoke exhale through the corner of my lips. Weed and whisky will have me sleeping in tomorrow, but I’m happy with that.

A wet, slopping sound is the first thing I notice when sleep slowly dissipates. My head aches now the alcohol has worn off, but before I can reach for the whisky I left beside my bed, pleasure shoots up my stomach, and my cock swells with need.

My hand finds the head bobbing up and down, my eyes scrunching shut with the oncoming orgasm. I don’t know how long this sweet mouth has been sucking me off, but I’m close to shooting ropes down their throat.

“Fuck yes,” I groan, lifting my hips and slamming into their mouth harder. They gag, the noise music to my ears, and I repeat the motion. I imagine Karma’s bright green eyes as she looks up at me, the thought of her sucking me off making me desperate, her pale blue lips turning white as I cut off her oxygen, not that she breathes air. Or does she? I don’t know. All I know is that I want to fill her tight body up with my cum, empty my balls inside of her until she’s overflowing.

The mouth moves faster, begging for me to finish, and I’m so damn close. The memory of Karma humping me, my finger circling her nipple, sends me over the edge, and I hold still as warm cum spurts from my cock.

“Karma,” I groan without realising, and the mouth pulls away, my balls empty.

“What the hell?”

I snap my eyes open, and when I look down, it’s Moxie on her knees at the end of the bed. Her face is contorted with fury, lip curled and eyes narrowed.