Page 83 of Circus From Hell

“Open them damn eyes, Spiral. Look at me as I fuck your pathetic mouth.”

He listens, and I’ve got him hooked. He’ll do anything for that alcohol.

“One sign of those freaky hypnotic swirls, and I’ll fill your entire throat with my cock so you choke to death. Got it?”

I don’t let him answer, using my grip on his head to hammer into him. The tip of my cock explores the back of his throat, begging to be drawn forward, but he truly couldn’t handle it.

“Wait until the others find out what a little brat you are,” I taunt, loving that there’s nothing he can do about it except gag. “Does your entourage know how pathetic their leader is?” I pull out and slam his head to the bars. “Answer my question. Do they?”

He grimaces, unable to move. I’m stronger than him, and he’ll have to fight me to get out of my grip.

“No.”

I’ve never felt power like this. Karma and I are equals. Hell, she’s above me, stronger than me. But this need to dominate, to overpower and humiliate, is new and aggressive and hazardous if I keep giving in. Yet I can’t stop.

“Shall we show them? I’ll hook you up in that sadistic show tent and fuck your mouth until you go limp. Show them how piteous you really are. I bet you look so disgustingly handsome when you leak tears.”

My tentacle is looking for that warm hole, rising and twisting, creeping towards Spiral’s mouth with a mind of its own. I can feel my balls swelling with need, the base of my cock slowly expanding as the tip sneaks between his lips. Spiral’s eyes go impossibly wide as he watches me grow, fear evident as he realises that I’m close to exploding down his throat.

“I’ve got a special treat for you later. Your mouth will be off limits, so I’m taking advantage of you now.”

His hands wrap around the bars to hold on, and I swear I hear the faintest whimper as I groan and slither deeper. Was that out of fear, or are his pathetic cocks getting hard?

I look down to see the big indent in his jumpsuit. Oh yeah, he’s hard.

I slip the cap back on the whisky bottle and slide it through the bottom of the cage, still holding his head so he can barely see what I’m doing. He tries to snatch it, and I thrust deeper into his mouth suddenly, making him gag. I see the tears in the creases of his eyes, dark from his black makeup, and glory overtakes me.

“Hump the bottle, clown, and don’t fucking argue.”

He grinds his hips slowly, that embarrassed blush deepening across his cheeks.

I laugh, gripping the back of his head with one hand and wrapping my hand around the base of my cock with the other. My hands are large, and they still only reach halfway.

He moans around my length, hips rocking faster, and I think he’s reaching to snatch up the bottle, but he grabs his top cock through his jumpsuit, adding pressure.

“You’re going to wet yourself with cum,” I mock, but the sight makes my balls swell to their max, and my muscled stomach twitches as the rest of my cock grows impossibly large for Spiral’s mouth. “I’m going to drown you with my cum. All that talk about fucking Karma when she’s dead, but I think it’ll be the other way around. I bet you’d like that, huh? Karma riding your dead cocks. Am I right?”

His eyes roll as he tries to nod his head, tears streaming down the sides of his face.

He rubs his cocks through his jumpsuit and humps the bottle he’s so addicted to.

“That’s what I thought. Everyone thinks you want her dead, but I know what you really want. Her. Just her. Without the rest of us. Guess what? You won’t be getting it.” I stroke the bottom half of my cock, feeling my suckers attempt to latch on, my two hearts beating hard against my chest. Pleasure shoots up my spine, and his mouth drags the cum out of my cock before I can pull away. Spiral shakes with his own pathetic orgasm, and huge white ropes spray into his mouth as I slip away, the rest of it landing on his face and chest.

He’s gasping for air—both from being flooded and the comedown of his high—and I tuck myself back into my trousers. Before he can come to his senses completely, I reach down and snatch the bottle away. He grabs for it mindlessly, but I’m already backing away, gleaming.

I made him do all of that, and he doesn’t even get the whisky.

But he liked it. I saw his cock, and he can’t deny that.

“You fucking prick!” he screams, slamming the bars mercilessly. “You shit fucking prick cunt. I will kill you. You hear me? You’re dead!”

I chuckle to myself as his furious screaming becomes distant once I shut the door.

A stab of guilt makes me stop when I look at the bottle. I guess I do feel bad that he’s in pain and clearly desperate, but also, he deserves it. He’s a colossal cockwomble.

That damn girl clown is still there. She’s in the middle of the field now, shadowed by nothing, illuminated by the upcoming sun. Her head is tilted as per, and she stares at me intently, like she knows what I’ve done. Her eyes, so far away yet so intense, stare into my soul, and I hate how I feel bared to her. I don’t know who she is—one of Spiral’s, but that’s as much as I’m aware of—or why she keeps popping back up, but I don’t like it. I don’t enjoy feeling unnerved and on display.

When I take a step forward, she turns and walks towards the show tent.