Big Cat Circus Page 2

  He did look at me then, his face streaked with tears. “You were my dream,” he said, very quietly, his voice hollow, “you were my dream and my last hope. I can’t take this life no more.”

  “Oh, Pa,” I said, squeezing his knee, “you know I’d work to keep you, get a job somewhere, don’t do this to me, please…”

  But he was shaking his head, the deed already done. “I gave them my word, Babe, my word. What kind of a man goes back on his word?”

  I wanted to say, and what kind of a man sells his own daughter, but he was in too much pain already and I knew it wouldn’t do any good anyway. His mind was made up and he was going to go through with it. Even though it would torture him to his dying day.

  * * *

  The song ended as we pulled up at the cross-road sign, a lonely piece of white-painted wood desolately pointing the way from somewhere to nowhere. In the full moon it was almost as bright as day, except that the shadows were too long and the malformed cotton plants looked like the bony hands of crippled old slaves in their ships, reaching out helplessly in the silver-red light.

  A long black Buick sat in darkness at the signpost, its engine softly purring, ready and waiting, like the Devil’s hearse waiting to carry off a lost soul, and I tried to cling to Pa, but he brushed me off roughly and pushed me out of the cab and into the road.

  I shouted, “No, Daddy!” but it was no good, he was already turning the truck round and driving back off down the road to town, desperately hoping to find some speak-easy or juke-joint still open where he could drink some of his money and numb his guilt before he would have to go home and face my mother’s wrath.

  I stood watching his taillights getting smaller and smaller, feeling deserted and so very alone out there at that desolate godless place, and, finally, as I turned and face the Buick, the passenger door swung open noiselessly and a warm amber light glowed from inside.

  “Come, Babe, we will love you as one of our own,” a soft feline voice purred through the night air, and a thin, cat-like hand in a leather glove beckoned to me.

  I sighed and got into the car.

  There was nowhere else to go.

  * * *

  Inside the plush cracked-leather interior of the car sat two people dressed entirely in black. They were quite young, not more than twenty-five or six, and yet they moved like old folks, their eyes rheumy, their hand movements stilted and arthritic.

  It was stiflingly hot in the scented interior, like a mortician’s parlour full of funereal lilies on a muggy day, but they seemed unaware. The woman wore a full-length black velvet coat and a black beaded hat with a dense veil that covered her face like she was a graveyard angel. She reached out and took my hand in hers as I sat down, cold even through the leather glove, and leaned over to whisper in my ear.

  “We have waited a long, long time to meet you, Babe,” she said in a breathless undertone, her accent pronounced. “I am Ute. This is my brother, Hans. Do not shake hands yet, he does not like to be touched before he is ready. Don’t be afraid, we will love you as one of our own. Come, let us away.”

  The man nodded to me as the big car started off on soundless wheels. He too was dressed in a black astrakhan coat and black suit, a diamond-topped cane between his legs, his gloved hands leaning on it like they were clinging to it for support.

  “It is indeed sehr gut that you have come, Babe,” he agreed with his sister, “we have much love to give you. Come, embrace me…”

  He reached out a thin hand to me, peeling away the glove like a spent Johnny from a limp dick, his pale fingers bloodless like a weed that’s been under a barrel all summer long.

  “We have know each other a very long time,” he said, his blue eyes suddenly very alive in his wan face, his white-blonde hair like an angel’s halo. “Come, child, kiss me…”

  And before I knew it his lips were on mine and it was the most beautiful kiss I had ever experienced, hard yet soft, long and deep but not clingy. I felt as if I was a thousand years old and had, indeed, known him for ever.

  “Come, come, enough,” Ute’s voice intruded, her thin pale hands taking my face between them. “Share the love, my brother,” she said in mock rebuke, and, before I knew it, she had kissed me too, and I was lost in the beauty of her tenderness.

  * * *

  It was late at night when we arrived at the Circus of the Big Cats, but lines of coloured electric lamps still burned around the black and gold banner that formed a proscenium to its courtyard. There was a huge black tent at the centre of the camp, covered in old painted canvases of rampant lions and tigers and panthers, all lit with strings of coloured bulbs, and a circle of wagons around it, each painted black and gold, boarded with German names at one side, open iron bars to the other.

  I heard the restless big cats before I saw them, pacing aggressively inside their cages, their movements agitated, hurling their heavy bodies at the bars in fury as the car drove slowly past, their eyes red and demon-like in the reflected headlights. I would normally have been scared, but Hans or Ute, I’m not sure which, had wormed a hand up my skirt and was stroking my pussy, tiny fingers nibbling at my clit like catfish in a shallow summer creek, and I was well beyond the realm of care.

  The dark Buick came to a halt in front of large tent, glowing yellow from electric bulbs within, and Ute opened the heavy flap and went inside. I made to follow, but stood for a moment in the night air, my nostrils flared, trying to recognise a familiar scent.

  “Yes, you remember it, do you not, little one?” Hans said in my ear, his flesh still cold but his breath hot. “It is the scent of the cats. Once you have it in your soul you can never forget it. Come, Ute waits for us.”

  He led me into the tent by the arm, his walk neat and feline, almost slinking. His eyes, bright Germanic blue in the car, were now orangey-yellow in this light, like verdant tiger’s eye or amber. I could hear the caged beats roaring in their cages and hitting the protesting bars with their powerful flanks as I contemplated their brilliance.

  Inside the tent walls were covered in tattered black silk hangings with gold decorations. They looked as if they had come from the lost summer palace of some deposed Tsar, but had been ripped and torn by bestial claws over the ensuing years. The grassy floor was covered in animal skins, lion, tiger, leopard; and in the centre like a ring was a huge round bed. Ute knelt on it, naked save for her beaded black hat and veil. Her skin was pure blue-white, like fresh milk, her body long and thin, flat-chested like a boy but with big woman’s nipples sticking out like moist black olives, the hair on her pussy dark and gleaming like cat fur, a soft obsidian vee between her legs but twisting up to her belly in thin, sharp rapier-like line.

  “Is she not fine?” Hans whispered in my ear, “you will make love with her for me, no?”

  I let my hand slide down his front and felt his strong heart beating in the surprisingly muscular chest, the taut belly and then his enormous cock, straining at the fine silk of his toreador pants, like a panther ready to spring. He was huge, bestial, and, as I traced the outline of his erection, I felt it move with my fingers, nuzzle at me, rub its hard head against my hand.

  His hands were busy with the buttons at the back of my dress and he slipped the flimsy cotton off my shoulders and let it fall to my feet and I was suddenly shy, although I undressed in front of a room full of strangers nearly every night.

  Ute saw my distress and smiled from beneath her veil. “Come, kleines, it is alright, you are with friends, let us see you.”

  Naked as she was, she came over and led me back to the bed on tiny feet, her muscular little ass tight and white, and I could smell her excited pheromones as she led me to the big satin-covered divan, getting me more and more aroused with every step. She took off her veil and lay down provocatively, her cherry lips very red, nipples straining up to be kissed, her pussy aroused and open, the moist inner labia begging my desperate tongue to explore its curves and crevices.

  I bent to join her on the sheets but she held up a hand, shaking her head. “No clothing, liebsten,” she whispered, “you must be naked if you wish to perform in the ring of love.”

  I immediately fumbled for the catch of my bra to oblige, but she shook her head and pointed to my panties, her eyes dancing with mischief, so I slipped them down for her, aware that I was showing Hans my big full ass. My belly was huge and round, my thighs round and white, and my pussy heavy and pronounced, covered like Ute’s in a silky mink stole of dark fur.

  Ute licked her lips with a tiny pink cat’s tongue and began to stroke her own cunt, pulling it open so that I could see her inner lips and very swollen clit. Her scent was warm and welcoming, and I was aware that my own pussy was responding in kind, and, tearing off my bra, I slid onto the bed with her like a white whale submerging itself into a dark pool.

  Ute’s lips met mine as my body splashed onto the satin, its caress cool to my burning skin, her kiss deep and penetrating, her tongue exploring my mouth like a hungry sea creature. I sucked on it hard, filling myself with her, them pushed my own curious one into her, our two animal tongues duelling as our bodies melded, lips to lips, cunt to cunt.

  Eventually, I came up for air and looked into her eyes that were gold and flecked, her face pink and sleek. “Eat me,” I begged, “eat my pussy, Ute, put your tongue inside me and lick my slit, kiss my clit…”

  Her hair was cut short and was blue-black, her eyes big and hungry. She licked her lips again, then pushed me down on the bed, straddling me on all fours, her legs spread wide open so that Hans could see the little pink asshole between her straining butt-cheeks.

  She began to kiss me again, starting at my neck and working her way down, her taut little ass always up in the air so that her brother could see her puckered little starfish and open slit. Animal like.

  “Turn around,” I begged, when she finally reached my pussy and started to kiss and lick, her little pink tongue lapping at my snatch as if it were a bowl of cream. “Turn around so that I can do all that to you too…”

  Her little head was buried deep in the snow-clad valley of my massive thighs, but I heard her laugh, then her tongue found my clit and I was lost. Most of my orgasms had been self-induced, lying in the hot dark in my bunk at night fingering myself, remembering the clothed bulges of the big cocks in that night’s audience, or the hot salty taste of cum in my mouth as I went down on some farm-boy for a fifty-cent trick.

  An old farmer had once paid Pa a dollar to fondle me, stripping me naked like a hog he was skinning and rubbing oil on my slit, patiently worming his way into my pussy, teasing my clit until I was hot and wet and then entering me, not thrusting but just feeling my heat around his long and surprisingly inflexible cock while he played with me, eventually making me come hard and long and letting my pussy’s convulsions bring him off.

  He was the only person that had ever bothered to pleasure me, but tonight Ute was doing a wonderful job of sending me to heaven with her thin fingers and little pink langue de chat. I could feel her sharp little claws down there, pulling my fat fleshy cunt apart, pushing her tongue in me and up me, kissing, licking and sucking my clit until I finally came, screaming out her name.

  She bounded up and kissed me while I was still thrashing, letting me taste my own pussy and spendings, driving me wild with desire and hungry for more. I outweighed her at least three to one, if not more, and I threw her down and started to kiss her body, rushing what I knew that I should savour in my hurry to get to her cunt, taste her salty sweetness, get deep inside her.

  She was panting long before I got to her slit, her scent feral and intoxicating, like a bitch in heat, a she-wolf on the prowl. I jerked her thighs apart the way Pa had done to me in the tent that day and pulled her dark furry pussy open to expose her slit, my superior weigh not brooking any protest from her.

  She resisted for a moment and then relented, letting me pull her this way and that, gasping as I kissed and licked in all her most intimate places, eventually being unable to stop myself and ferociously lapping at her stiff clit, rushing it and making her cum violently and quickly.

  I could hear her screams and feel her needle-sharp nails clawing at my back as she orgasmed again and again, getting stronger with each wave that hit her. Finally, she dragged my face up and kissed me hard, her fingers bloody, and I was about to offer my pussy up to her for seconds when I felt heat down my side and turned to see Hans on the bed.

  Although he had seemed Aryan blonde in the car his hair was now blue-black like his sister’s, cut short to show off the shape of his masterful skull. He was completely naked, his ballet dancer’s body as sinewy as a panther, his skin white like Ute’s but completely covered in short dark body-hair, his chest a sleek mat, his lower abdomen dark and thick, a veritable jungle around his cock.

  His balls were like a Doberman’s, blue-black and furry, his dick like a beast’s, hugely and obscenely erect, the wet purple head sticking out like a hungry sea creature, his circumcision making him look even more naked.

  “Come, it is time, Babe, my darling,” he whispered urgently, and I could smell the scent of his huge demanding cock as the cats all roared in agitation and flung themselves against the bars of their cages outside. “Ute will show you what to do.”

  I didn’t care about Ute any more, I wanted his cock, in my mouth, in my pussy, up my ass. I didn’t care, I had to have that cock. I pushed the skinny girl aside and straddled him, easing his big, bare-headed dick into my hot wet slit, feeling it stretching my big cunt as I lowered myself onto him, when Ute suddenly pulled me off him with a lioness’ strength and brought me to my knees, her voice incisored like a whip.

  “Down, down on all fours,” she commanded, “lift your big ass into the air, bow to your master.”

  I found myself complying, remembering the thrill I had felt when I first took my panties off knowing that Hans was seeing my big round butt. There was something delicious about what I was about to do, showing him what even the tent crowds had never seen, feeling his big naked-headed tool inside me, filling me up, going into virgin territory. I felt him behind me and opened my legs and reared up like a beast and let him see, feeling his hot hands on my flanks as he pulled my cheeks apart, his curious fingers deep in my open pussy as he greased them, then slipping up my tight ass-hole, wetting, lubricating, teasing.

  I clenched and trapped him there, begging for his cock, and he slipped his fingers out when I relented and eased the head of his huge member into me. I relaxed as much as I could to let him penetrate me, and, sensing it, he thrust forward, the big purple head going inside, pushing deep into me and then, maddeningly, stopping.

  He muttered, “too dry” and pulled the beast out, guiding it into my pussy and pushing in hard. I was soaking wet and covered him in my juices, the air full of the scent of my arousal, and he slid right in, feeling as if he was so deep that he was in my stomach, then came out again quickly and pushed at my puckered anus, his naked cock slippery with pussy juice, and thrust right home.

  I let out a gasp of beautiful agony as he thrust deep, hurting and turned-on simultaneously, and he suddenly started to fuck me in earnest, deep in the heat of his passion and not caring about my wants or feelings as he rode me like a dog. Ute was in front of me now, kneeling to put her face level with mine, her full blood-red lips hungry as she met mine in a fierce embrace, Hans’ cock plunging into my ass like a deranged animal as the beasts roared and howled outside.

  His hands were like steel claws and he fucked me mercilessly, pounding into me, tearing me, filling me up like I’d never been filled. Ute was scratching viciously at me, her nails bloody, and then I felt Hans’ teeth sink into the back of my neck, his sharp incisors tugging relentlessly at my sleek fur, my whole body blue-black and sinewy, my scent filling the tent as he came into me and transformed me, awoke the sleeping tiger and turned me into the wild rutting beast that was my destiny.

  * * *

  Life has been good in the Circus of the Big Cats and we have travelled the world over the years and seen many strange sights. We never grow old, which is good, and I live for the ring, the gasp of the crowd when I stride in naked and powerful, my savage roar frightening even the strongest men in the big top.

  It’s only when Hans and Ute become old and weak and we journey out to the crossroads on the blood moon night that out wrath becomes palpable, our jealousy unbearable, and we hurl ourselves at the bars of our iron cages, bestial and impotent with rage, our scent feral and unrequited, screaming to be mastered by our beloved man-beasts just one more time…

  THE POISON PIXIE FICTION CATALOGUE

  The DANNY Quadrilogy by Chancery Stone

  THE DANNY QUADRILOGY is a huge stylistic achievement, a Jacobean drama on an epic scale, reaching into realms far darker than anything ever dreamt of in Shakespeare's philosophy. It belongs more firmly in the shadowy corridors of John Ford, the secret rooms of Christopher Marlowe, the feral imagination of John Webster - in short, in a place where gouging out eyes with steel spikes and unwittingly fucking your sister are commonplace tragedies.

  For modern audiences, however, it may be imagined more easily as film noir, a long running soap opera from the dark side, something that HBO might commission as a creative pièce de résistance designed to out-swear Deadwood, out-abuse OZ and out-rape Rome.

  It is the home of supernaturally compelling characters, blessed with the phallocentric charisma of sexed-up animals, goats in human form, satyrs. They act out every sick fantasy in graphic detail, strutting their sex, violence, perversion and addiction as if they were proud of it.

  It is beyond good and evil, it is simply necessary.