Sunday, May 16, 2010

Slave to the Circus

In April, during a Naughty Author Chicks blog I promised to deliver on a writing challenge. My muse had provided me with the vision of a circus and I asked blog readers to come up with some circus variables for me to use writing a short erotic piece. So I did.

Well the short piece is too long for just one post. Too long for two either. Let's call it a serial. I'm going to begin posting this short story I'm calling Slave to the Circus from now until I get through the tale. It's a futuristic, kinky, m/m/f menage and I hope you enjoy.

Be warned, another of the Naughty Author Chicks might just appear with a circus story of her own, having taken up the gauntlet I threw down for myself with this challenge. If that happens, you can enjoy the dueling stories during our blog times. Since I only post once every other week, I apologize for the drawn out tease. But C'est La Vie. Next time I post I'll provide a link to the first part of the story so readers can go back and review what I've already posted. Be aware that my story is in rough draft form.

SLAVE TO THE CIRCUS, by Michelle Polaris.

Part 1:

"Beautiful pussy. Lovely pussy. So sleek. Be a good girl and I promise I'll treat you fine." Duncan added the low purr to his offer to entice Tasha. She'd been moody recently and he worried. He always worried about his girls.

"You sound like you're flattering her so she'll agree to fuck you," a deep teasing male voice jarred his progress from behind.

He shot straight and the tawny, red spotted Tulisian feral cat snarled her displeasure at his fast movement. At 250 pounds of muscle, claw and teeth he took her displeasure very seriously.

Duncan put up both his hands to her to show his surrender, recovering his smooth glide and cajoling voice to soothe the feline lady before she decided to teach him a lesson and shred his skin.

Fuck the man who'd intruded in the cage just as he was getting the cat settled after the show. Even without turning to face him, Duncan knew who it was. Raven.

How had he gotten into the holding area? Duncan had locked it after himself as usual. He kept his attention to those details exacting. Necessary if he intended to maintain his position as animal performer at the Cirque. The scratch on his biceps still stung from yesterday's fuck up, the salty sweat from his earlier performance drying on his bare torso to irritate the claw mark. Universe help him, he couldn't start losing focus now. Now when he'd asked Andreil to let him add new cats to the act.

He was billed as the show's animal tamer. Duncan snorted at the title. Knowing his girls as he did the last thing he believed in was his ability to tame them. They tolerated him and condescendingly did his will because he paid them the respect, attention and worship they demanded. Females, whatever the species, responded best when a male acknowledged their status. Kept a man's balls intact as well. Plus, the desire to see them happy was a natural for him. So why this fucking edginess recently? Walking on ground glass and coals and jumping from place to place to avoid the pain from standing still? Keep working was his new motto. All this at a time when he was supposed to be happier than ever. It made no sense.

Duncan backed away, maintaining his smile and the stream of compliments to the cat. Near the cage door his shoulder brushed the other man's. "Jackass. Move slowly out of the cage with me when I open the door. I've fed her, but she's more than happy to indulge in dessert."

"Clearly your charm isn't working, Duncan."

"Get. Out. Of. The cage."

Raven complied just when Duncan expected him to start trouble again. Disappointingly, Tasha hadn't lurched and eviscerated the asshole.

As the seam of the force field snicked on around the bars of the old-fashioned style cage, its look aged for the 20th centry Earth-based circus mystique, Duncan turned into the night air to examine the newest member of the Cirque. Raven still wore the black and white face paint from his part of the performance and the snug fitting black shirt and pants. Although ostensibly their newest clown, he was far from the buffoon-like crew the Cirque usually hired. The pattern of stark sworls on his cheeks left the impression half his face was playfully laughing and the other half in tears. And that if you came to close you too would be in danger of being sucked into a psychotic blend of emotion. Duncan's mind kept stuttering at each glance of the pattern as it drew him in. Damn harlequin.

"You going to watch Vivi's act next?" Raven eased up too close for comfort with his question as Duncan ran through the last of the computer system checks on the cage force fields.

The heat from the man radiated out in invisible tendrils, fucking with Duncan's attention. Sinewy muscle, broad shoulders, lithe hips delineated by the tight costume. A significant bulge displayed at his groin. And Raven didn't seem to give a shit about displaying his erection for all to see. The chemistry and the beauty made flesh of the man caused an inconvenient stirring in Duncan's cock that made no sense. Vivi made him happy. She was more than enough for him, everything he'd searched for the years he'd wandered. He loved her enough to burst every damn organ in his body. But since Raven joined the Cirque a month ago, Duncan couldn't turn around without the new performer showing up behind him, pushing. Always pushing. A magnetic force that sent his internal compass spinning like mad. Raising his defenses in turn.

Whatever intrigue Raven had brewing would turn out nasty. And Duncan was sure something was on the cook fire. The clown had that kind of presence. Too large. Too potent. And there was only so much room for Dominant types in this traveling group.

His mind spun to Vivi and the way she sucked all the air from a space when she set a sleek booted heel into it. The feel of her hand around his shaved cock and balls when she grabbed him. The pinch of her clamps when she had him bound and waiting for her, asking for him to give himself up in suffering. The drive racing through him to fight down everything he pretended to be, conquer the fear and pain and place it all as a sacrifice on her altar. Gods whip it, she was fine. He loved her. A confrontation between her and Raven was a scary prospect if anyone wanted the Cirque to remain intact at the end.

"Yeah, I'm going to watch her act," he answered, shrugging off the knife-like attention from the strangely painted face and carrying the last of his gear back to the storage space in the next carney wagon.

The night air blew up, drifting smells of grease and grav rations from the food barge. Irritating his nose. The tinkling, cyberfae music tripped through his nerves as Raven followed him. Frizz lights blinked to advertise their attractions, delights of the freakish, strange and daring rolled out by the Cirque for the pleasure of its viewing audience. A blitz of color simultaneously hard and gentle.

Amazed metallic guests wandered between the show wagons and viewing screens. He didn't like touring this planet. The Fresian people got too worked up watching the traveling show and he'd spent many post-show hours helping staff break up fights and elbow customers back out to their transports after an almost drug like euphoria from the Cirque atmosphere.

"I'll come and watch with you. I want to speak with your Mistress. Will she allow it, you think?"

Duncan spun at the casual, teasing use of the word Mistress, acknowledging a truth that they had kept private from the crew, although none would really care. Vivi was his Mistress, feeding a long suppressed part of him searching forever and finally finding a home when he took up this job and met her. He'd accepted her bonds gladly, willingly made a gift of his body and soul, a homecoming long overdue in his life. And the pain and pleasure he'd found there made his worship of her sweet. He belonged to her. But the added joy came as he slowly discovered she belonged to him just as much.

He swallowed back the hollow in his belly at how little time she had left for him with their schedules. But for her he'd wait kneeling on the glass and coals. Wait as long as she required it. Until she showed up and shot him one of those sunshine wicked smiles, all star burst and feral like his cats. But with a mind at work behind it honed to the extreme.

Through gritted teeth he examined the smirking Raven as he casually leaned against the nearest wagon wall with arms crossed.

"She's busy after her gig." Duncan's clenched fists dug his nails into calloused palms. A surge of possessive splendor stormed through his veins and had him stepping closer to Raven, although not for anything friendly.

"Ah, but I have a favor to ask her." The clown unfolded his arms and stepped in to meet Duncan.

Heat flare.

Their bodies rested close inches from one another, the scowl Duncan knew he wore doing nothing to warn away the sharp scent of sexual interest and casually wielded power the strange clown exuded.

Raven reached to rest a fingertip on the center of Duncan's chest. Ran it down his sternum to his abs, a few spaces above his groin where his stupid dick lurched once again. "I want to ask her to lend you to me."

Duncan slammed Raven's hand away from his body. "What the fuck? No way and don't you dare say that crap to her. Gods know I'm not interested."

"Aren't you?" Raven drawled.

Duncan's pulse beat thick on his tongue. Pounding copper and quicksilver.

The harlequin finally stepped back, eyes laughing, making the weeping side of his painted face more disturbingly evocative. "That's for her to answer, cat man. If she is truly the beautiful Domme I've suspected.'

He tilted his head, gaze sharp as Duncan steadied himself, fusing each vertebra straight to keep from backing away farther. Away from the piercing gaze.

"I'm well aware of how this works." Raven's eyes dipped down to Duncan's crotch where his erection had begun to fill. "Her cock to command, cat man. The question remains if she shares. Such beauties, both of you. Do you think she'd switch for me and go down on her knees to serve me? I picture her breasts bound in my harness, nipples pinched luscious wine color beneath my jeweled clamps."

A dark storm jagged in Duncan's belly and a painful arousing hatred filled him. "She's bitch enough to have you down on your knees writhing in pain, Raven. Touch her and I kill you after she's done twisting your balls off your body."

The clown's smile widened. "Sounds just lovely, sweetheart. It's a date then."

"Fuck you."

"I intend it the other way around, but now you're getting in the spirit."



Wynter Daniels said...

Love it - great setting, very different. Can't wait for the next installment.

Jina Bacarr said...

Outstanding, Michelle! I really enjoyed your excerpt. Very sensual.

I could feel the tension building between your lion trainer and the clown; looking forward to learning more about the trainer's "feline lady."

Savannah Stuart said...

Looking forward to the next post!

Naima Simone said...

THAT'S your rough draft?? I think I may have to hate you...LOL!! Wow, Michelle! Love the futuristic setting, the characters...the harlequin description was wonderful and sensual. I never thought of a harlequin clown as sexy before but now...*shiver* Can't wait to meet Vivi!

Michelle Polaris said...

Thanks Jina, Savannah and Naima. It's always interesting to me how to world build and develop characters while trying to write short. And I hope you'll like Vivi. It's also interesting to me how to do justice to strong female characters when I'm innately more interested in the men. Good luck with all your current projects.

Dalton Diaz said...

Naima, I kid you not, this is a normal "rough draft" for her. Brilliant, eh? I've been one of her crit partners for years, and I'm still in total awe.

Michelle Polaris said...

You are a too much, Dalton. Thanks for the compliment.