Page 67 of Circus From Hell

Until now. Until Karma.

As soon as I bottomed out inside of her, I felt the pain flee from my body in an instant, as though she absorbed the agony, and I knew I could never forget it.

This feeling of pure pleasure mixed with no pain is euphoric, and even if Karma hadn’t told me to keep going before she passed out, I don’t think I would have been able to stop.

I’ve figured out how to get rid of my own pain whilst also causing it in Karma, and that’s the best concoction a sadistic clown could ask for.

She’s so tight, her skin elastic despite Soren’s tentacle tearing her apart, and I can’t get enough of it. I lift one of her legs to hook it over my shoulder and do the same with the other, giving me deeper access to her unconscious, dead body.

Her muscles shift easily when I move her which way I want. Her stitched smile is out of place on her relaxed face.

I’ve watched Karma sleep. Many nights, I’ve fixated on her before I head to bed. But even in slumber, she usually has a permanent expression of anger, like she’s on the verge of waking up to protect herself.

Now? She’s completely defenceless.

Every time I thrust forward, I think about Soren. About how he got to this pussy first. It’s infuriating.

His tentacle must be big to cause the damage it had. Surely not bigger than my two massive members pressed together? Maybe I’ll force him into a dick measuring competition.

Karma’s fingertips aren’t sparking anymore. She must truly be in a deep comatose.

I kind of wish she were still awake. Damn, am I missing her? I didn’t really like seeing her in pain. I didn’t hate it, but it didn’t give me as much satisfaction as I thought it would.

Oh well. What’s done is done.

My cocks leak at the sight of her lying here, and I feel high from her pussy wrapping around me. I wish I’d injected myself when I injected her, but I was desperate to see the effects it would have on her with a clear head—as clear as it can be when I’m still half-drunk and high from before I went to sleep—so I could fully immerse myself. It didn’t disappoint. She was so slow, so confused, so dazed. Karma tripping will always be my favourite thing now, but I doubt she’d let her guard down to be struck a second time.

The long-lasting effects of my weed make my fingers tingle as I grab her neck above the ruffled collar that she never takes off and use my grip to pound her harder. I fuck her into the forest floor, uncaring of how the dirt and twigs dig into her back and my knees.

I move my hand from her thigh and lean forward to put my face beside hers, rutting into her like a beast. I lick her neck and cheek and bite her bottom lip. She’d never be so submissive when she’s awake. She’d probably have me halfway in her stomach by now, but I can do whatever I want to her right here.

I groan as I succumb to the warm pleasure, my orgasm nearing with every thrust. I can feel my cocks pressing against each other, soaking wet with her pooling arousal. The wind whistles around me, but the cold can’t stop me from finishing inside this disgustingly beautiful body.

“That’s it, that’s it.” My cocks slip in and out, my hips slamming against hers with every surge. The impending orgasm is overwhelming, forcing me to act like a rabid dog, like if I don’t come inside of her right now, I’ll die.

Her head shifts as she mumbles and whines incoherently for a moment.

“More,” she whispers, but she doesn’t wake up.

Her pussy tightens around me unexpectedly, and my balls follow. Cum shoots out from my cocks, an untamable groan ripping from my throat as I fill her. My hips slow as she wrings out every last drop into her greedy cunt, and the thought of it mixing with Soren’s has me feeling a sense of gratification.

“Fuck, dead girl,” I breathe as my head drops, my mouth landing on her shoulder. I lick the cold skin and bite down, leaving deep teeth marks. Marking her, owning her. “You’re mine to fuck, hurt, and kill. You remember that now.”

As I lie here, letting the pleasure slip away, it morphs back into that constant pain.

“Shit,” I mutter. The headache comes rearing back, and I’m desperate to drown it out with more whisky, more pussy, more drugs.

But none of it will ever help as much as Karma. She’s a curse—I want to kill her, yet she’s the only thing to fix me.

“What are you doing?” a male voice yells, and I roll my eyes as I turn to look at the two approaching figures. Three, if you count that dumb rat running across the forest floor to sniff Karma’s face.

I slowly pull out and rise back onto my knees, not rushing to put my cocks away.

Arlo, the curly-haired human obsessed with my little dead girl, is running towards us first, and then I see the bigger figure behind him.

Soren.

“What are you doing out of your cage?” I shout, jerking up to a stand. He eyes my cocks hanging between my legs but only for a moment before focusing on the body Arlo is dropping to his knees beside.