Clowning Around

Editor's note: this story contains scenes of incest or incest content.

*****

The alarm clock went off in the dark bedroom, emitting from a cellphone. It wasn't a repeating noise, but a musical piece: the circus march "Thunder and Blazes."

Marisol, splayed out in her bed on her back and snoring, stretched her hand out to turn it off. Then she sat up in bed and switched the lamp on.

The darkness vanished, revealing walls decorated with circus posters and paintings of clown faces. On the shelves sat clown dolls, and in a chair in the corner sat a clown blowup doll. In another corner was a full-length mirror.

She glanced at her phone: 6 a.m. She yawned, stretched, and got out of bed, walking barefoot toward the bathroom. She wore a white nightgown with red polka dots. She flipped the light switch on and stared at herself in the mirror.

She was a mess: eyes half open, curly hair all frizzled, sagging tits ...

Marisol sighed, rubbed the sleep from her eyes, and stretched again. Then, while looking into her reflection's eyes, she said, "Today my frown turns upside down 'cause I'm the best clown aroun'!"

And she instantly felt better. Every day since she was a little girl she repeated that mantra, which was of her own composition. She washed up, put on her non-clown makeup, and got dressed, and then headed into the kitchen for breakfast.

Mother, who lived with Marisol, was already sitting down and eating.

"What are you so happy about?" she asked her daughter.

"Nothing," Marisol replied, as she poured herself a bowl of cereal and milk.

"I heard you," Mother said.

"What do you mean?"

"That stupid thing you say every morning. When will you grow up? You're in your late thirties and single, Marisol! You need to settle down with a man and put your childish dreams to rest ..."

Marisol ignored Mother and let her drone on and on about the imaginary perfect life for her, as usual. She sat at the table across from Mother, who was in her late sixties and living off of her dead father's pension.

They were nothing alike, which made Marisol's heart sink. Mother was always prim and proper from head to toe, inside and out. She was thin and tall, had short-cropped white hair, wore thin wire-frame glasses, and had few wrinkles on her face. Her skin was a light brown, but she could easily pass for white.

Marisol, on the other hand, stood just over 5 feet with long, thinly curled hair that reached to her shoulders. Her body was petite and slightly curvy, and her feet were small. Her eyes were large and brown, and her smile was wide and white. Her skin was a healthy brown.

She didn't know what Mother thought of her physically, but Marisol thought of herself as beautiful.

She looked up from her bowl, and Mother was still ranting ... She finished up and got ready for work. She drove a couple of miles to her job, which was as a guidance counselor at a high school. She liked helping students with their problems and advising them on what they should do after graduation ...

Which always led her to think of her own dream, that of being a full-time clown for a circus or carnival, or even just doing birthday parties ... For now, though, she had a responsibility to her students, and she had bills to pay.

She sat at her desk, staring out into space thinking about her life ... Maybe if she could attend a local clown school on the weekends—

A knock at the door snapped her out of her stupor. A student opened the door and came into her office. She told the pupil to take a seat, and as always, with a warm smile on her face.

And so the day began, and so the week played out ...

That Friday, as she drove home from work, Marisol was forced to take a detour on the highway because of construction work. Thanks to that and traffic, she drove two exits out of her way. She got off and drove through a nearby town, coming to a stop at a red light. Haphazardly looking around, she saw an adult store on the corner ...

Marisol licked her lips and wanted so hard to rub herself ...

The light changed and, instead of driving straight, she turned sharply and pulled into a spot in front of the store. She got out of her car, locked it, and quickly walked into the store, the electronic doorbell chiming once she entered.

Marisol immediately felt out of place. All around her were tables and shelves of dildos, whips, lubricants, butt plugs, candles, chokers, books, DVDs, ropes chains, collars, leashes, and other items that she had a vague understanding of and of which Mother would never approve ...

A young woman stood behind the counter at the front of the store. She had short-cropped black hair, a thin body, and slightly tanned skin. She looked up from her book on hypno-domination and smiled sweetly at Marisol. She also wore a beautiful red crystal around her neck.

She was the cutest thing the wannabe clown had ever seen, and was instantly smitten ...

"Hi! Welcome to Women's Wants and Needs. I'm Sadie. How may I help you?"

Marisol blushed. "Um ... I, uh ... I'm not sure."

"This your first time here?"

"Uh, yeah," Marisol said, sheepishly. "And in this kind of store, too ..."

"Well, don't be embarrassed. We're all human, right?" She walked from behind the counter to stand in front of Marisol. "Tell me, what turns you on?"

Marisol was taken aback by the question's bluntness—and the woman's beauty. She had to have been maybe ten years younger than her ... God, she looked adorable in her shirt, ripped jeans, and sneakers ... She swallowed and said, "Clowns."

Sadie arched her eyebrows. "Really?"

"Yeah, well, I mean ... I guess ..."

"Okay, well, do you want to dress like one for your partner? Have your partner dress like one? Get off on two clowns doing it?"

"I ... Okay, here's the thing." Marisol rubbed her temples. "I love clowns—always have. I love the whole idea of clowns—making people laugh and feel good, you know?"

"Interesting ... I mean, I think a lot of people—especially kids—would disagree, but ..."

Marisol sighed. "You sound like my mother."

Sadie winced. "Sorry, I—"

"No, it's all right ... You know, I've got a good job. I like it, but ... I wish I were a clown for a living, you know? Trade in my power suit for baggy pants. I wish I could make people happy and laugh, and make Mother understand ... or at least teach her a lesson ..." She shook her head. "I'm sorry, I'm rambling. I think this was a mistake. I better leave."

"Wait, don't!" Sadie said, and then sighed. This potential customer was such a cute little MILF ... "Look, it seems to me that your turn-on isn't clowns. You like them, you want to be one—I get that, power to you. But again, it seems to me that what turns you on is being dominant—and submissive, in certain cases."

Marisol laughed nervously. "What, you have a psychology degree?"

"Actually, I do, but after graduation I ran away with the circus."

Marisol looked her over. "Are you making fun of me?"

"No, I'm serious. I toured with a circus for about a couple of years as a stage hypnotist. But the traveling got to me, so I came back home and opened this store."

"To say that I'm jealous is an understatement."

They laughed ... Their eyes made contact ... They demurely smiled ... They looked away from each other ...

Sadie locked the door, turned the lights off, and put up a "sorry, we're closed" sign in the front window.

"Follow me," the storeowner said. "I think I may be able to help you."

She led Marisol by the hand into the storage room at the back of the store. She locked it.

"Is this really happening?" Marisol asked, half in excitement and half in disbelief.

"It would appear so," Sadie said.

Marisol almost tripped over an open box of broken mannequins as she went to embrace Sadie.

"Ooh! You okay?" the storeowner asked.

"Yeah. Sorry."

"No, it's all right. I have to throw that stuff out. I've been meaning to get replacements, but of course, other things have come up, you know?"

They pushed the box out of the way, after which they made out and fucked. They took turns being dominant and submissive, using different toys that excited and hurt. When they were finished, they lied on the floor contentedly, with Marisol snuggled tightly in Sadie's arms.

"That was wonderful!" Marisol said. "It's been some time. I can't thank you enough."

"Next time it'll be in a bed instead of a hard, dirty floor. Still, hold that thought." Sadie sat up and took the gem off from around her neck. A thin metal chain ran through a hole at one end of the jewel, which was about an inch long with six sides. The end with the hole was flat while the bottom end was pointy, as if broken off ...

Marisol kneeled next to Sadie and stared at it. "What is it?"

"This is the Mind-Slaver. I used it in my hypnosis shows like a pocket watch."

"Where'd you get it?"

"Uh-uh, a magician never reveals her secrets. After all, this little gem is magic."

Marisol frowned. "You mean, like ... magic magic?"

"Yep. It's simple. You swing this in front of a person's eyes till it starts to glow. Then, you recite the mantra, stop swinging it, and give your volunteer their commands."

"I see ..." Marisol shook her head. "That sounds too good to be true."

"Would you like a demonstration?"

"You want me to hypnotize you?" Marisol asked.

"No, I'll put you under."

"Um ... I don't know."

"C'mon, we just had sex and you're still not willing to trust me?"

"Well ... okay—just delete everything from the security cam, please?"

"No problem."

The storeowner stood in front of Marisol and swung the crystal before her lover's eyes. It glowed a bright red. Marisol became instantly captivated by it, and she felt a haze fog up her mind ... Her body swayed slightly to that of the crystal ...

Sadie then said, "Obey me now, for your mind is mine. Do as you're told, and all will be fine."

Marisol's eyes became glassy and wide as they reflected the light that now enslaved her. Her mouth hung open, and a thin thread of spittle escaped her mouth, falling to the floor.

Sadie slowly stopped swinging the Mind-Slaver, which quickly lost its glow. Marisol, however, was still hypnotized, kneeling in a daze ... The storeowner put the crystal around her neck and rummaged through some boxes, taking out a bottle of lube, a long string of solid-colored handkerchiefs tied tightly end to end, a mirror, and some clown gear.

Then the storeowner began playing with Marisol's face. She stretched the older woman's features this way and that—she loved having real-life putty to play with ... She licked Marisol's face.

When she had had enough, she asked, "What's your name?"

"Marisol." Her voice was soft and emotionless.

"That's pretty. Marisol, my slave, when I snap my fingers, you'll be the best clown you can be. You'll use all that stuff over there and perform an act for me. Understand?"

"Yes, Mistress."

Snap.

Marisol got up and made a beeline for the circus gear. She put on floppy red shoes, baggy blue-and-white-striped pants with green suspenders, and a bright yellow shirt with large white frills around the neck. She put white makeup on her face as well as black eyeliner. She applied red lipstick and painted red circles on her cheeks. Then she put on a rainbow-colored, puffy-haired wig and a big, round, purple nose and held a bicycle horn in her hand.

"Hiya, Sadie! Hyuk-hyuk-hyuk! I'm Giggles the Clown!" Marisol said in a goofy voice.

"Hi, Giggles," Sadie replied. "How are you?"

"I'm doin' great, Sadie! Hyuk-hyuk-hyuk! Hey, Sadie, what do you call two banana peels?"

"I don't know. What?"

"A pair of slippers! Hyuk-hyuk-hyuk!" She blew the horn a few times.

And on it went for about fifteen minutes: lame jokes, lame pratfalls on banana peels, and constant horn blowing. Sadie didn't know if Marisol was out of practice or if she had never practiced at all, but either way, her act stank.

"Stop," Sadie commanded. "Strip naked, lube your hands and holes, and finger yourself."

"Yes, Mistress."

Once naked, obedient Marisol lied on the cold floor and folded her knees to her chest. She lubed her fingers and then glided her right ring and middle fingers in and out of her vagina, while with her left ring and middle fingers she used to play with her tight butthole. Marisol rolled her eyes up as her head tilted back. Her mouth opened and was perfectly round.

"How does that feel?" Sadie asked, as she stuck her hands down her pants and played with herself.

"Oh ... my mistress ... it feels ... so good ... Thank you ... so much ... for letting me ... do this ..."

Marisol, still wearing her makeup, fake nose, and wig, licked her lips. She took her fingers out of her vagina and squirted cum like a geyser. She moaned loudly and scrunched her bare feet, and then licked the cum off of the fingers on her right hand. Marisol couldn't believe how good she tasted ...

Sadie cummed in her pants and got on her knees as she fell in love with the squishing and puckering sound that Marisol's tight little shithole made as her fingers slid in and out, in and out ...

And oh, God, those tight, round butt cheeks, glistening with lube and her natural juices ...

When Marisol had had enough, she released a squeaky fart, her wrinkled poo-hole now a round, protruding, dark-pink circle. She lied splayed out on the floor, exhausted, her chest heaving.

Sadie worshipped Marisol's bare feet. Then she got up and held the handkerchiefs before Marisol.

She commanded, "Good girl. Now, show me more of your clown skills. Swallow this. You will shit it out and pull it out of your asshole with your toes, but only when I say the word thunder. When I do, you will hear the music to 'Thunder and Blazes.' When you've finished, present the strand to me as if an offering to a goddess. You will awaken from your trance and remember everything that has transpired when I say blazes. Understand?"

"Yes, Mistress."

"Good." She rolled up the handkerchiefs into a ball and threw it onto Marisol's stomach. "Thunder."

Marisol swallowed the handkerchiefs. Then, after a minute or so, her stomach gurgled and she farted. She made exaggerated facial expressions and pinched her nipples. Little by little, she shat out the handkerchiefs, carefully pulling the strand out with her toes, alternating one foot with the other ...

The only parts that hurt were the knots.

She also milked herself, strands of liquid squirting out of her hard breasts. Marisol did everything she could to get a drink, but to no avail ...

When all of the handkerchiefs were out of her body, Marisol presented them before Sadie on bended knee.

"Good girl." She caressed her lover's face. "Blazes."

Marisol blinked and shook her head. She carefully stood up. Then she looked at Sadie in shock. "Oh, my God, I ..." She looked down at the handkerchiefs. "Ew!" She threw them on the floor in disgust.

Sadie laughed. "Take it easy, Marisol. You did well."

"Yeah, I guess so ..."

"You've got the passion for clowning," Sadie said, "but you should really work on your act."

Marisol smiled weakly. "Uh, thanks ..."

"So, anything else you want to buy?"

Marisol scratched her head. "Yeah. Yeah, I would ..."

She bought a number of toys, devices, and costumes, and exchanged contact info with her new lover.

"One other thing," Marisol said. "Can I buy the Mind-Slaver?"

"Sorry, not for sale."

Marisol stroked Sadie's hair and widened her eyes. "You sure?"

Sadie swallowed. "Very."

Without thinking, Marisol yanked the Mind-Slaver off of Sadie's neck.

"Ow! No!" Sadie cried.

But Marisol swung the crystal before Sadie's eyes. The storeowner stood motionless as Marisol repeated the mantra.

"This crystal is now mine, Sadie. You never owned it, you don't even know what it is, and you want me to have it. Understand?"

"Yes, Mistress."

"Good. Now, before the weekend's done, I want you to come over so we can have some fun. Sound good?"

"Definitely, Mistress."

"Excellent." She kissed Sadie on the mouth. "See you later, lover-girl. When I leave the store, you'll come out of your trance and go on with your day. Got it?"

"Yes, Mistress."

When Marisol got home that night, with two bags of goodies in hand and the Mind-Slaver around her neck, she found her mother and sister on her couch. Her sister was crying as Mother had her arms wrapped around her.

"There, there, Amelia, it'll be all right," Mother consoled her eldest child. She turned to Marisol and shot her a glare. "Where were you?"

Marisol swallowed. "Something came up last minute after work. What's going on?"

"Her husband left her. Can you believe it? A highly successful lawyer like her—abandoned. The very idea!"

Marisol suppressed a smile. Her older sister, the golden child, struck down from her pedestal ... Oh, this was too good—

"Well? What are you doing just standing there?" Mother snapped. "Get dinner started! And what are those bags?"

Marisol sighed. "It's late. I'll just order a pizza."

"Really, Marisol, what with—"

"Yes, Mother, really! I'm tired and not in the mood to cook! If you don't like it, then the two of you could just go out to eat!"

Mother and daughter stared at each other.

"There's no reason to take that tone with me, Marisol ... Do what you want." She turned her attention back to Amelia.

Marisol went into her room, dropped her bags, and ordered dinner. Where did that burst of anger come from? She shook her head ...

She took a seat on the other side of the couch. Amelia was still crying her eyes out on Mother's shoulders while Mother still cradled her. Amelia was light-skinned, like her mother, and her hair was stringy, long, and black. She shared Marisol's large smile and brown eyes, but she was a taller and skinnier.

"I don't understand," Amelia wailed. "I gave that man the five best years od my life!"

"It's all right, Amelia, dear," Mother consoled. "You're too good for him. You'll find someone else."

Marisol soaked it all in. She was conflicted: She hated her sister for getting so much love from her domineering mother, whom she also hated, but she loved yelling at her mother and seeing her sister in pain ...

She ran the Mind-Slaver through her fingers. She could—no, they were family ...

Once the pizza came, Marisol set the table and they all sat down to eat. Mother chastised her for not putting out forks and knives, which Marisol had to dutifully get. As she ate, Amelia kept blubbering about how life never goes her way, and Mother kept doting on her ...

Marisol was on her second slice while the other women were each on their first.

"Marisol," Mother said sternly, "save some for your sister."

"There are four more slices, Mother."

"I'm not hungry anymore, anyway," Amelia said, pushing her plate away.

"It's all right, Amelia," Mother said. "Why don't you turn in early? Marisol, get your bed ready."

Marisol frowned. "Why?"

"Because your sister will sleep in your bed and you'll sleep on the couch."

"But—"

"Marisol, please! Your sister's going through a tough time right now."

"That's it!" Marisol said, slamming her hands on the table and standing up.

Amelia yelped and Mother scolded her youngest. Marisol ignored them, taking the Mind-Slaver from around her neck, swinging it in front of their eyes, and reciting, "Obey me now, for your mind is mine. Do as you're told, and all will be fine."

Amelia's eyes turned glassy and wide and her mouth hung open.

"Where did you get that?" Mother asked, irritated. "Put that down, Marisol! It's hurting my eyes."

For a fleeting moment, Marisol was scared ... but then she realized—