An Erotic Juggalo Odyssey Ep. 01 Ch. 02

DISCLAIMER: This story is in no way endorsed by or affiliated with the Insane Clown Posse or Psychopathic Records. It is NOT implied that ICP or any real persons mentioned in this story are depicted accurately or condone the behaviors portrayed. It also does not attempt to define or exemplify the Juggalo lifestyle. Juggalos come from many different backgrounds and lead such vastly different lives that trying to portray a 'typical' Juggalo would prove impossible. There are Juggalos of all races, all classes, all genders, and all sexual orientations, and this story is only meant to reflect a small, fictional group within that larger whole.

EPISODE 1: HOT TICKET

Chapter 2: "Play With Me"

HELL'S PIT

(aka Divine Trailer Court, aka Home)

NORTH LAS VEGAS, NEVADA

Liz arrived at the Divine Trailer Court in North Las Vegas a little past 2am. Usually she wouldn't make it home until closer to 3am because, without a car, she was at the mercy of the night bus schedule, but this evening she was lucky and caught a ride with a new dancer who it turned out lived nearby.

She was dropped off at the entrance where she took one last hit off the joint the two were sharing before thanking the girl and sending her off with the roach.

Alone, Liz made her way up the gravel road towards the mobile home she shared with her two roommates, and she had one thing on her mind: Bruce Carroll, entrepreneur.

Bruce Carroll was not like the usual type of guys that made their way to Gary's Topless Villa. He was polite and attractive; sexy and vulnerable. He was a professional with his own business, and he showed real interest in Liz beyond getting his rocks off. After their private dance, he had stuck around to watch her stage performance. Where most of the guys near the stage would slip a dollar or two into her panties for each song, stretching their fingers wide to cop a little feel off of her, Bruce had slipped her a dozen fives during her routine and not once made flesh on flesh contact.

That was classy, she thought.

When she finished her stage time, she dressed quickly backstage in order to rush back out to the club area -- only to see if she could interest him in another private session, she tried to convince herself -- but when she got back he had already left.

He probably wanted to change out of his sticky clothes, she reasoned. She wanted to believe that had it been another dancer who had gotten him off in the back room, he would've left immediately after the session finished. But with Liz, the man just couldn't resist a chance to watch her on the pole. And she felt like she definitely gave an energetic show. She was driven by the image of him sitting uncomfortably in a pool of his own cum, wanting to head home and clean himself up but unable to take his eyes off of her. Whenever she caught sight of the wet trail she had left on the outside of his pants, a rush of adrenaline seemed to pulse through her veins and pump even more energy into her dance.

Maybe it was the weed, but it almost felt like a dream now -- that it hadn't really happened. She reached into her pocket and pulled out the folded business card to reassure herself it was real.

And there it was: Bruce Carroll -- Entrepreneur. Two phone numbers and an email. Posh fonts and quality paper. She got the distinct impression that he wanted more than to simply sell her VIP tickets. Maybe it wasn't so much an impression as a desire on her part. She wanted to get to know him. They should get to know each other...

The hoarse sound of a someone coughing in the distance abruptly interrupted her day-dreaming. It was late and she didn't expect anyone to be up at this hour, so the noise rattled her nerves a little. She quickly turned around to look where it was coming from, but she didn't see anyone anywhere. She wasn't surprised as it was dark and the trailer park had very sparse street lighting, most of which had been burnt out for as long as she had lived there. Liz had always thought this was the perfect place to jump someone. Or worse.

She nervously quickened her pace. She stuffed the card back into her pocket and fumbled for her keys so she'd be ready to go right inside when she reached her trailer. However, when she got to her steps, the coughing started again -- louder and closer. It sounded as if it were coming from right above her.

She hurriedly went to unlock the door but found her key wouldn't turn the right way. She tried turning it again, but it was stuck hard. After grunting in frustration, she turned it the other way and realized the key wasn't working because the door was already unlocked.

"Liz?" a voice called out.

She jumped. The voice seemed to be coming from the sky. She pushed open the door, but before she could get all the way inside she heard it speak again.

"Is that you, Liz?"

She paused in the doorway, thinking she recognized the voice. It almost sounded like one of her roommates.

"Matt?" she called.

"Yeah."

She couldn't see him, but she was certain his voice wasn't coming from inside the house. "Where the hell are you?" she asked.

"Up here."

She stepped back outside and looked up. On the top of the trailer she saw her roommate, Matt, sitting in a lawnchair and waving at her.

"What the hell are you doing on the roof?" she asked.

"There's no moon. You can see the stars pretty good tonight."

"How'd you get up there?"

"Jerry left his ladder out, so I borrowed it. It's on the side by Mayra's room. It's really beautiful; you should come up."

"Yeah?"

"Bring a chair."

Liz went inside, dropped her bag of work clothes on the kitchen counter, and took a drink from the faucet to assuage her cotton-mouth. Even though she was a little stoned, she should've guessed it was Matt from the beginning. This was the kind of thing he did. She admired how he always seemed to find the sublime when no one else was looking.

Liz turned off the water and came back out into the dark. She grabbed one of the folding chairs from the yard and made her way to the roof.

Matt sat with his head leaned all the way back over the edge of the chair, staring up at the night sky. He had a bottle of schnapps and a flashlight sitting next to his feet, and he was smoking.

"It's so beautiful tonight," he said as he flicked some ash into the air.

"What you got there?" Liz asked as she unfolded her chair and sat down beside him.

"Just a cigarette," he apologized. "There's some liquor though."

"That'll do."

Matt handed her the bottle, and she took a long drink before sitting it in her lap and putting the cap back on.

"These are the nights to live for," Matt whispered.

Liz looked up and even with the unrelenting bright glow of the Strip to the south, she was impressed with the amount of stars she could see. They dotted the sky like a million sequins on a jet black gown, sparkling and twinkling from across forever. She wondered how it was that she had never climbed up there before.

"You had a good day?" Matt asked.

"Actually, it wasn't bad. The club was a little emptier than usual for a Friday, but I did all right." She paused before adding, "And I met a guy."

"Really?"

"No, not like that." She paused again and reflected. "Well, kinda like that, but that's not what I mean."

"So you met a guy who digs strippers? Imagine that."

"You asshole," she laughed and nudged him with her elbow. "I met a guy who can get us VIP passes to the Gathering of the Juggalos."

"No shit?" Matt turned his gaze from the sky to look at Liz.

"No shit."

He tilted his head in skepticism. "What's the catch?"

"None." Then Liz shrugged. "Money, I guess. He's not giving them away; he's selling 'em. His brother got them for him for free, but he's gonna sell 'em online because he can't go -- and he's trying to make a buck. He said if I want three for us he'd sell them to me first at a discount because he knows I'm 'truly down with the clown,' but I gotta let him know by next week."

"Shit, how much does he want?"

"He wanted a thousand for them when we first started talking. But I got him down to $600."

"That's a pretty sweet price," Matt agreed as he sat up a little.

"Two hundred a piece. We get backstage. Prime camping. Food. A bunch of other free shit."

"It sounds great..."

"I know we been talking about it a lot, so if we're doing it, here's our shot. Shit like this doesn't just fall in your lap everyday." Matt sniggered at the 'lap' comment, but Liz ignored him. "Think you can swing it?"

"Yeah, I guess. I mean things will be tight, but I can make it work. I don't know about Mayra though. They cut her hours down again."

"Are you serious? When?"

Matt nodded and reached out for the bottle. "Today."

"Pigs."

"Yep," he agreed, taking a swallow. "What she needs is a new job. She can't rely on those fuckers. They're totally stale, and they always dick her over. When I got home she was in her room crying. I told her I could probably get her on working extra hours with me at the Bell, but she said she just wanted to be alone."

"That sucks."

"I don't know if she's even thinking about the Gathering anymore because she's too worried about straight up dimmage."

"Fuck that. Gimme..." Liz reached for the bottle and took another long drink. "You're killing my buzz."

"Yeah," was all Matt could muster in response. He looked back up to the stars and sighed.

After a long silence, Liz thrust the bottle back at him and stood up.

"I need a shower," she said. "Can I borrow your light to get down without breaking my neck?"

Before he could respond, she grabbed the flashlight by his feet and searched for the switch. He watched and sniggered at her.

"How the fuck do you turn this on?" she asked as she fumbled around with it in her hands.

"You don't," he responded with a giggle. "That's a fleshlight."

"A what?"

"You know, you fuck it."

"Are you serious?"

"It's like a pocket pussy. Look at the top."

"It does feel a little lightweight," she said as she aimed the front at her face. She squinted and saw there was no bulb, or even a lens for that matter. Instead, where the light would have emitted, there was a puffy pink silicone mound with a hole shaped like an anus in the middle.

"No batteries," Matt said. "You just stick your corn dog in and go to town on it. Or I do, that is."

She shook it. "There's something in it."

Matt smiled. "I went to town on it."

"Are you shitting me? You fucking jerked off into this on the roof of our trailer?"

"The stars are beautiful tonight."

"Oh my god!" she said as she collapsed back into her chair laughing. "That's totally fucked up. You gotta do it!"

"Do what?"

"Fuck your flashlight. That's too awesome."

"I already did."

"Again," she said, throwing her head back and rolling her eyes as if it was completely obvious that was what she meant. "I've got to see it."

"I don't think I'm in the mood," he said as he playfully rubbed the schnapps bottle against the crotch of his jeans.

"I don't believe you. Let me check."

She reached over, pushed the bottle to the side, and ran her hands over his lap.

"Something's in there..."

"Of course it's in there," Matt smirked. "I just don't know if it wants to come out to play."

"Well, I guess we'll have to ask it."

Liz grabbed his belt and started to unbuckle it. As she did, she looked at Matt's face to see if he was okay with this. He looked amused and offered no resistance, so she continued.

Liz and Matt had always had a strange relationship. They had been best friends since high school, and although there was obvious sexual chemistry between the two of them, they had never been a couple. Sure, they had messed around with each other a dozen or so times over the years, everything from mutual masturbation to blow jobs to even butt fucking once -- her fucking him with a strap on, that is -- but there was usually drinking and/or smoking (marijuana) involved. The short-lived intimacy never led anywhere romantic -- it was more like two friends simply getting each other off -- and the next couple days were invariably full of awkwardness and avoidance, but things always returned to normal soon after.

Liz chalked the lack of a romantic relationship up to Matt's questionable sexuality. He presented himself as bi or pan, but rarely in the near decade she had known him had she seen him in a relationship with a girl. Men seemed more his style, even in the short-term, one-night-stand sense of the word. Living together in such close quarters, they had walked in on each other in many an awkward situation, and each time she had witnessed Matt fucking someone, playing with someone, or even perusing prurient material on the computer for solo-time, it had been of the male persuasion. In other words, gay stuff was his thing -- man on man action. In terms of his porn habits, this was good for Liz because often she would use his browser history as fodder for her own masturbatory delights. She wouldn't have to search much on their slow-as-molasses computer as the material was already there and just waiting for her. (She also wouldn't deny that she found something sexy in exploring Matt's private fantasies and getting off to them, too.)

So while she had seen a lot of Matt's sexual side, she had never seen him fuck a flashlight before and her curiosity was piqued as to how that would work.

And, she secretly admitted to herself, I'm still really horny from my encounter with Bruce Carroll earlier. This could be fun for both of us.

After unbuttoning his pants and pulling down his zipper, Liz paused.

"You're okay with this, right?" she asked, just to be safe.

"If you think you're up to the challenge," he dared her.

This was the carefree, adventurous Matt she loved dearly. She laughed and returned her attention to his crotch, feeling much more confident in her actions.

Underneath his jeans, he was wearing black boxers with red Hatchet Men printed all over them. There was an elastic fly in the middle that she thought about pulling his penis out of, but she decided against it. She wanted him completely exposed to the night sky he was so enamored with.

With a little help from him as he shifted his weight in the chair, she slid his jeans and boxers down to his knees revealing the entirety of his equipment. She drank it in. She loved the familiarity of it all. She had spent more time than she could remember admiring his cock over the years, and though the member had never properly been inside her -- they'd never had actual sex -- she still felt that his was the cock to which she compared all others.

At the moment, it was semi-erect, probably from her prodding through his pants seconds before and this excited her. Knowing that even though he was spent just a short time before, with only the slightest provocation from her he was growing hard again in anticipation of what she would do. He wanted it.

She gently took the tip of his penis between her thumb and index finger and lifted it to lay it on the small of his belly, holding it there and exposing the pale underside of his shaft. With her other hand, she took one finger and slowly traced a path down the length of his cock, from the smoothness of his plump glans to where the wrinkly skin of his hairy scrotum began. He let out a shiver in response, causing his whole chair to shake slightly.

She noticed that his cock was moist and sticky, a mixture of cum and lube from when he had jerked off before her arrival. He obviously hadn't showered or been able to properly clean himself since. From the feel of it, she doubted he even wiped himself down. He probably just tucked himself away after he had finished, letting the leftover remnants of his session leak into his boxers and mat into his pubic hair.

This thought turned her on. It reminded her of Bruce earlier in the evening, wet from spilling his seed in his pants, soaked in his own cum, but still sitting there at the stage as if nothing had happened and all was normal. Pretending to those who sat around him that his sticky cock wasn't slowly drying against his leg, matting itself against his own pubic hair and boxers, as he stayed and watched her dance for him. A criminal hiding in his own crime scene. She loved the idea that an orgasm could just happen, the world would shake, ecstasy would pour through a body, and then seconds later you would have to face the world and pretend you hadn't lost all control and ridden that high. She liked playing the witness as much as the criminal. She felt as if she was already a witness to Matt this evening -- although she hadn't been there when he did the deed, the evidence remained and was in her hands.

Liz put her finger to the tip of Matt's penis again and repeated the slow trace, going the same leisurely speed as before, but this time it took her a little longer because his cock had grown and given her more distance to cover. She moved the hand from his belly and his dick stayed in the upright on its own, erect and hard. She felt blood and heat rush to her own face as her desire grew. That was fast, she thought.

She gently pulled his dick downward and then let it go. It bounced right back into place, and she coyly grinned.

"It looks like you're ready," she whispered as she picked up the fleshlight again.

"There's lube in my right pocket," he said, pointing towards his ankle.

"I don't think we're gonna need it," Liz replied as she gently shook the plastic cylinder back and forth in her hand. The sound of squishy splashing against its inner walls gave her a chill. "We'll MacGyver it."

Before he could respond, she turned the fleshlight upside down and held it over his hard cock. The cum he had deposited earlier thickly oozed from the opening, slowly dripping creamy white goo onto the shiny purple head that pointed rigidly at the night sky.

"This should work just fine," she said, licking her lips and staring at it.

Liz watched the cum as it sluggishly spread from a large glob right on the tip to cover the entire glans and seep down the sides of his shaft like thick fudge poured onto a fresh ice cream cone. She was tempted to lick it but somehow restrained herself from the urge. She didn't want to cross the line and do anything they might regret.

When it seemed like the last bit of cum had been emptied from the fleshlight, she guided the device downward and easily slid the elastic opening over his rigid member. The 'lube' worked perfectly, and she began to steadily pump the fuck-tube up and down his shaft, grinding it into his balls at one end of the stroke and twisting it around the mushroom-like head at the other.

The sight of the spent cum mixture being rubbed up and down his hard cock turned Liz on, and she found the heat emanating from between her own thighs hard to ignore. There was a slick ring of white gel forming around the base of Matt's penis, sticking and squishing into the hair of his scrotum as the semen dribbled from the fleshlight. It was messy, dirty, and she couldn't help herself as her free hand made its way into her own pants.

As her fingers slipped under the band into her panties they were met first by the dried crustiness that had resulted from her earlier encounter, but this quickly gave way to a new wetness that was spreading fast and reclaiming the region. She closed her eyes and let out a moan when she found her special spot, and she felt Matt jolt in his seat next to her.

She opened her eyes and saw that his were open, too. He was staring at her. His gaze fell to where her hand had disappeared and lingered there for a moment before returning to her eyes. He smiled, and Liz smiled back. Then he closed his eyes and let his head fall back over the chair, adjusting his posture slightly.