Archive-name: Bondage/circus2.txt Archive-author: She Devil Archive-title: Circus Story - 2 No, life with She Devil's Travelling All-Girl Circus was not just an extended feast between She Devil's bewitching thighs, much as I wished it could have been. In fact, I had to put up with quite a few inconveniences and even indignities in order to keep up my masquerade of femininity and pursue my search for my missing cousin. For one thing, there was the way She Devil dressed me. Since I had agreed to be hired on her terms (although I was paying all the expenses!) I had to wear whatever she thought appropriate. And She Devil had decided that as my job was to be a back-stage assistant and general helper to the other girls, the best outfit for me would be a series of Maids Costumes! But what costumes they were! They were in a variety of styles, but all were of jet-black satin with white lace trim and accessories, such as caps and aprons. Aside from that, though, they were surprisingly different, from each other and from any other kind of outfit I had ever seen a maid wear! There was one traditional maid's dress, with puffed sleeves, lace collar, layers of starched petticoats and a darling apron and cap set. But the skirt was so short that every time I walked in this thing it flipped up, offering teasing glimpses of my black panty-clad bottom as well as the tops of my opera-length black net stockings, and bending over to do anything at all was ... well, I might as well have raised my panties up a flag pole for all the exposure they got My next Maid's outfit was much more concealing, but much more restrictive as well. The skirt on this one came clear to my ankles, and the dress had a very high collar and long sleeves, as well as matching black satin gloves. The problem was that the whole thing was so tight -- and made of such heavy black satin -- that I could barely move in it! There was a corset built into the bodice which kept my back rigid and just slightly curved, and the high satin collar was almost as bad as the corset, forcing me to keep my neck strained outward and my chin up, so that I had to bend slightly forward just to see in front of me. The arms of this thing were so snug that I couldn't bend my elbows very far or even raise my arms above my head. It was a chore just feeding myself, especially since the tight satin gloves were as restrictive as the rest of the outfit, making it impossible for me to even close my fingers very tightly. It took She Devil a full fifteen minutes to button me into this thing and lace the corset straps, and when she was finished I couldn't get out of it without help. But even that outfit was better than the next one, an ensemble so brief that it was barely there at all. It consisted of a tight (and I mean really tight!) satin corset with a small patch sewn on the bottom at the front, in the shape of an elongated triangle, with the base sewn to the corset bottom and narrowing at the tip to a thin strap that passed between my legs and ass cheeks and then tied to the back of the corset. With this on, my pussy was just about hidden, but that was all. There was an apron sewn to the front of the corset, the skirt portion hanging just inches below my waist and the bib portion held up by pasties on my nipples. And this, along with skyscraper-high heels, black-net stockings held up by black satin garters, arm length black net fingerless gloves and the ubiquitous maid's cap was all there was to it; My shoulders, the tops of my breasts, most of my back, and my entire bottom were completely bare! She Devil used to make me wear this when I'd been disobedient, she said, and everyone in the group laughed heartily at the sight of modest me scampering around camp on my duties, trying all the while to keep my backside from view. And this wasn't always easy, considering some of my duties. Normally, all I had to do was dust and vacuum the dozen or so trailers of the girls in the troupe, easy enough considering their compact size and convenient layout. I had specifically picked out this job because it enabled me to snoop privately through the papers in each girl's possessions, picking the locks on strong boxes when necessary in my search for birth certificates, old photographs, and anything else that might prove someone's identity. It was this way that I was able to discover... but I'm getting ahead of myself. As I said, my job occasionally called for a little work above and beyond the call, and sometimes I found myself roped into something, that I certainly hadn't figured on when starting. There was the time, for instance, when Magica asked m to assist her in an illusion. For this one, I was attired in a sweeping, floor-length strapless gown of light green silk, no underwear, dark silk stockings and elbow length white gloves, along with a string of pearls and the usual four inch high heel shoes, of course. Dressed like this, I waited in the stands of our portable arena until she asked for a volunteer from the audience and someone pushed me out. Acting a bit nervous and reluctant (which wasn't really acting) I came into the spotlight with her and introduced myself as Mattie Huntington, a wealthy visitor. Magica thanked me for "volunteering" and led me up to a heavy wooden X-frame up on a small platform. In no time at all, Magica had my wrists securely tied with strong rope to the top of the X and my ankles similarly secured at the bottom. Then she called for another volunteer to make sure I was really helplessly bound. Suddenly Kathy Clown came running up from the darkness at the edge of the spotlight. In slapstick pantomime, she conveyed to the audience that she wanted to test me, to make sure I couldn't move, and the audience applauded wildly. All at once I found myself hit in the face by a stream of seltzer water. I sputtered in protest, then screamed shrilly as Kathy directed the stream down the front of my dress, soaking it to a clinging, near transparent mess that outlined every inch of me. From up her sleeve, Kathy produced a huge bouquet of feather flowers and proceeded to plant these down my decolletage. I looked down in wonder, only to be hit full in the face again by another stream of seltzer. But Kathy was just getting started. Smiling impishly, she plucked a feather from the bouquet between my breasts and began tickling me! Oooo! I writhed, I giggled. I screamed for help as I tugged frantically at the ropes that imprisoned my wrists and ankles. But it was no use. I felt the merciless caress of the feather as it swept artfully up my sides to my armpits, behind my ears and under my chin, then darted down to the insides of my thighs. How long it went on I couldn't say, but at last I was hanging exhausted by my wrists and Kathy was bowing as the audience applauded wildly in the darkness beyond the spotlight. Now Magica proceeded with her act. Two stagehands brought out an ornate red lacquer oriental cabinet, about six feet square, and Magica made a big production of showing everyone that it was empty. Then, with a flourish, she swept off her oversized cape and draped it over the wooden X-frame, covering me completely. Through the heavy fabric, I heard a "poof!" and saw a flash of light, and then I suddenly felt a trap door opening beneath my feet as razor sharp blades concealed in the X-frame flashed out and back, severing my bonds. Instantly, I was plummeting downwards as hooks caught my dress and ripped it from me. Then I was rolling down a short passageway and onto a small platform. My weight flipped a trigger somewhere, and before I could even realize what was happening, I was shot upwards into some kind of black closet about six feet square. And then the sides suddenly fell from the closet. Dazed, I blinked and looked around On the stage, Magica was bowing and showing off Molly, who, attired in an outfit identical to my green dress, was now bound to the X-frame. And I was standing, free, in what had been the oriental cabinet. Free and almost naked! I squealed and clasped my arms around me as I suddenly realized that I was standing there in front of everyone in just my stockings, gloves and heels! And as the band kicked up a lively circus chase theme, I leaped from the platform and ran, blushing furiously, to the safety of the performers door under the stands. A little while later, in the front of her trailer, She Devil massaged my back softly as I lay comfortably nude on her floor. She was nude herself, and the feel of her bare thighs straddling my back was giving me warn tingles all over that had nothing to do with the carpet beneath my stomach. "There, there, Poor Little Thing," she cooed softly. "I know it was just horrible, but really you were sensational. And you were really the best one for the job, you know; you and Molly have completely different coloring, but there is enough resemblance between your faces and builds to add a lot of visual impact to the illusion. But don't worry. I'll tell Magica to do her acts from now on without your assistance." "Oh thank you, She Devil," I breathed softly, luxuriating in the gentle touch of her hands up and down my bare back. Then I thought of something else: "By the way, uh, how long has Molly been with you?" "Molly?" She Devil replied casually. "Why for years and years. At first, she was too young to even use in any of the acts, but her mother had died years ago and the acrobatic troupe that bad been raising her broke up, and... well, the kid bad no place to go and nothing but a pathetic little envelope full of papers and photographs, so I took her in and found some things for her to do that didn't involve performing for the customers. She and Leona (Oh, you don't remember Leona, do you? She left the show a couple of years back.) Anyway, she and Leona worked out that cat act and when Leona left, Molly took over. But why so interested in Molly? Should I be jealous?" "Oh no," I answered quickly. "Just curious, that's all." "Well that better be all," She Devil moaned and leaned forward, I felt the hairs between her legs brush across my smooth bottom as her full breasts flattened against my bare back, and I felt that old familiar ache in my pussy. Did I say Pussy? I mean the ache was in my male genitals, of course, hidden behind the false pussy. Funny how I was getting confused about that lately. But She Devil was still talking. "I want you all to myself, you magnificent animal, you," she was saying. "I want to cage you and keep you and have you perform just for me. And I want to have you feeding right out of my hand... or right out of any place else I think of! "Oh yes," I sighed, helpless to resist this woman's lesbian charms. "Any thing for you, She Devil!" "All right, Animal!" she giggled. "Play Horsie for me!" "What?" I half rolled over and looked up at her quizzically. "You heard me," she insisted softly. "Play Horsie! Come on now, up on your hands and knees, right between my legs here... That's right! Oooo, that feels sexy! Now carry me around the room this way! That's it! Giddyap, Horsie!" And, odd as it may seem, I, Martin Howard, a man of considerable wealth (and on my way to much more) did just as she asked -- willingly! Nude and completely feminized, I happily carried this equally naked circus performer around the room on my back, feeling my breasts sway beneath me as I walked, revelling in the exciting jiggle of my bare pink rump as She Devil swatted it playfully. And then, when my ride had ended us up in the bedroom, I took my reward, lapping gratefully between her tempting nether- lips until she at last moaned in fulfillment and felt my own body tingle with naughty lesbian enjoyment. After then, it seemed like all She Devil wanted to do when we were together was some variation on the "horsie" game. As soon as I entered her trailer, I would have to strip naked and drop to my knees to approach her. When I did this, she would rub me affectionately behind the ears and call me a Good Horsie, and if there was time she would have me fetch the Bridle. Ah yes, the Bridle. I really didn't care much for this, but She Devil had it made up specially for me by the Round-Up Girls, and she seemed to really love having me wear it, so I humored her. Basically, it was a set of leather straps that buckled tightly around my head, fastened to a semi-soft plastic tube about half an inch long and an inch in diameter. This tube was placed between my teeth and the straps adjusted so that I was biting down on it, my teeth fitting into little grooves on the outside. When She Devil had finished putting this thing on me, my mouth was held open and she could jerk my head side to side by pulling on the reins. I could make little whinnying noises, but intelligible speech was out the question so long as this thing was on. And She Devil had a host of devilish little tricks for keeping it in place! One evening, while wearing it, I happened to turn my back to her and suddenly felt my wrists seized from behind. In no time, my hands were cuffed behind me and She Devil was laying down the law: "Now Horsie," she said with mock severity. "You've been very lax in your duties lately, so I'm going to do a little something to impress you with how much I love having you all for my very own Horsie and how I hate to see you spending so much time in Molly's trailer. Understand?" I whined and nodded my head, agreeing that I shouldn't be spending so much time there. Actually, I had almost found what I was after...... but She Devil took my assent as permission to punish me "Very well," she said, uncoiling a length of rope. "Kneel down!" I did as she ordered, unsure of where all this was leading, and quickly found that she had bound my left ankle to my upper left thigh and was doing the same with my right! As always with She Devil, I was completely nude except for my bridle, and as she fussed over me, I felt myself oddly excited by the feel of her leather boots brushing against me, the whisper of her tan denim jodhpurs, and the softness of her breasts through her white silk blouse as she leaned over me. But this was no time to think of that. What was happening to me? She Devil tied each ankle immovably to its thigh, and now she was tying my knees together with a long, long length of the soft but strong nylon rope. As I looked down in wonder, she took the unused portion of this rope, which was sticking out from behind my bent knees, and was using it to wrap my bent legs ! Around and around she went, tightening and re-tightening, until my leg stumps were bound together like a mummy, encircled by yards and yards of the white cord, from my ankles and upper thighs right down to my pink knees. But She Devil wasn't finished there. In no time, she had produced a frilly, lace trimmed, corset of heavy white satin, reinforced with strong plastic ribs, and she was fastening this thing around my middle, tugging mercilessly at the laces. Ooogh! I felt my waist being nipped in to breathless tightness as She Devil pulled and pulled at the laces. The frilly white satin trim at the top and bottom of this brushed the undersides of my breasts and tickled the hairs at the top of my pussy as She Devil at last judged it confining enough and tied it off. "Now what shall we do with those hands of yours?" She Devil mused. "Horsies don't have hands, you know! I have it!" She went to her medicine cabinet and soon returned with two big rolls of white surgical taps. Taking each hand separately, she bent the fingers and proceeded to wrap it firmly into a useless half fist, leaving only the thumbs free. I wondered about this briefly.. until She Devil made her next move! With a smooth motion, she unlocked my handcuffs and before I could think what to do, tied my thumbs together in front of me with a length of white nylon ribbon. Then, to finish things off, she ran a length of narrow white nylon cord from my thumbs to my knees, leaving about two feet of slack between them| "There now!" She Devil stood up and smiled down at me. "Horsie won't go wandering off now, will she?" I looked at myself in a full length mirror on the far wall and blushed with shame. Crouched there on my hands and knees, I was a pink and white picture of helpless submission. The white bondage encircling my bent up legs and hands went perfectly with my white satin corset, accentuating the flesh tones of exposed breasts and bottom, which now reared up behind me in humiliating prominence. Encircled by my dark hair and the leather straps of my bridle, my pretty feminine face gaped uselessly at the sight I made, down on all fours and completely unable to rise, to take off my bridle... to do anything but what I was ordered! And, standing over me, toying with a shiny black riding crop, She Devil obviously had some interesting orders planned! "Move around some, Horsie!" she giggled softly. "I want to study your movements. Get along now!" As best I could, I moved my bound fists forward on the carpet, then wiggled my ass behind me, sliding my knees forward to catch up. Then, when I had a little more slack, I repeated the whole shameful process: First a breathtaking jerk with my taped fists, then a tail wagging shuffle with my hampered knees to catch up. She Devil laughed delightedly at my antics. "How cute!" she chuckled, flexing the riding crop in her hands. "But I wonder what would happen if I used this!" I quailed at the sight of the leather quirt, shaking my head and whining for all I was worth, and She Devil laughed again. "Oh, I don' t mean to spank your naughty bottom with," she tittered. "Not right now, anyway! But look what happens when I tickle your nipples with it... my! They're standing right up! And you're moaning! Now what happens when I brush it across the soles of your bare feet? Does that tickle? My, your bottom bounces when you jump like that! And the way your titties shake is positively indecent! Settle down Horsie!" Somehow, I made myself stop bucking and stood there (if being forcibly tied down on one's hands and knees can be called "standing") quivering with anxiety and sexual tension as She Devil softly stroked my naked flanks with her hand, then playfully tickled me under the nose with the tip of the riding crop. "And now, Horsie, it's time you were punished for spending so much time in Molly's trailer and making She Devil jealous!" Punished? You mean there was more? Yes, apparently there was, because She Devil went on: "You see, it's just now Show Time and I'm going to be busy for the next few hours coordinating some of the acts. I had thought about just tying your reins to a post out in the middle of the campgrounds and leaving you there, but now I have a better idea:" "After the Show, I'm going straight to your trailer. When I get there, I want to find you, bound just as you are now. That means you'll have to hustle your cute little ass all the way there from here! Fortunately for your sake, there won't be too many girls in this area during the show, but you'll have some pleasant moments trying to keep from being seen like that, my little modest missie! I think I may also tell the girls that there's a reward out for whoever catches you out and ties you to her trailer, just to make things interesting! So, there you have it, Horsie: You've got about three hours to sneak across camp and lock yourself in your trailer until I come for you. If you're caught, your fate will be up to whoever catches you. But if you don't, at least try to make it, and I find you still in here when I come beck after the show..." She smiled impishly. "Well, let's just say that this nasty old riding crop has a lot of applications! 'Ta now!" And, blowing me a kiss, she vanished out the door! I don't know how long I huddled there in that trailer, feeling my arms and legs stiffen in their restraints, chafing under the growing ache in my neck as I strained to hold my head up, and trembling in fear at the prospect of hobbling and crawling clear across camp in this bound-up bare-assed state. I looked at myself miserably in the mirror and my big pink bottom and jiggling bare breasts seemed to mock me. How had a man like me ever gotten into a situation like this? Feminized, bridled, breasted and bound down on all fours, and in this state faced with the prospect of trying to make it clear across the circle of trailers that formed our camp, at the mercy of a bunch of gaudy whores! For the umpteenth time I wondered what spell She Devil had cast over me to get me into a fix like this, then I sighed, nosed open the trailer door and peeked out. It looked good. Everyone was assembled for the Opening Parade and the rest of the camp was deserted. Cautiously I turned around, backed my big rump out the door, and backed carefully down the three steps to the ground. Down on the soft grass at last, I looked around again. Still deserted; I just might make it. But I'd better keep close to the trailers and go around the perimeter rather than cut across; that way, if anyone came, I could always duck under a trailer and hide till they passed. Cautiously, I began my journey: A forward tug on my bound arms, then a jiggling shuffle in my knees to catch up. Then another forward tug. And another shuffle. Tug-shuffle, tug- shuffle, tug-shuffle .... My bridled jaws throbbed with the pain of being kept forced open like this for so long, even as my neck screamed silent agony from the strain of holding my head up to see in front of my. Every forward tug of my bound hands jerked at the rope that secured them to my knees and prevented me from straightening up. My knees burned from the friction of scooting them across the grass, and my bent-up, rope-wrapped legs felt like they were growing numb. I had to stop, rest, and hide somewhere. Then I looked up and saw that I was right in front of Molly's trailer. And the door was ajar! Over the last week or so, I had indeed been spending quite a lot of time there, as She Devil had mentioned; but not for the reason she suspected! Ever since She Devil had dropped that passing comment about Molly showing up with "a pathetic little envelope full of papers and photographs" I had been obsessed with the idea of finding them and seeing if they contained proof of Molly's identity. You see, there was a lot about Holly that led me to believe that she was none other then my long-lost bastard cousin. As She Devil had mentioned, there was a slight physical resemblance between us: nothing major, just a hint around the chin and nose. More importantly though, Molly had mentioned to me once that she had exceptionally strong teeth and had never required any dental work! This was one characteristics that is shared by nearly all the Howard family, and when she told me about it, it clenched my suspicions. All I needed was proof. And the only place to get it would be to find that envelope full of papers and photographs, that until now I hadn't had a chance to really search for! All this and more flashed through my mind in an instant as I tugged and pulled my way up her steps and in the door of her trailer. It might seem terribly foolish of me to try looking for anything in my present state, but I had to rest somewhere anyway, and I knew I might not get a chance like this again soon. Half an hour later, rested and a little more mobile, I began my search. I had found a knife in the kitchenette of Molly's trailer and used it to cut the ribbon that held my thumbs together. With my hands still taped up, it didn't free me by a long shot, but at least I could raise my arms now and use my thumbs to open drawers and such. Being familiar with Molly's trailer, it didn't take me long to find what I was looking for: a strong manila envelope tucked into some old scrapbooks. And everything I needed was right there! A birth certificate from some county in Utah that I'd never heard of, where one Kitty O'Malley, passing through with a troupe of acrobats, had delivered her daughter Molly. There were photographs, of mother and daughter that cinched the whole thing; The Kitty O'Malley in these pictures was obviously the one that Uncle Hubert's detectives were looking for, and the girl with her was just as obviously her daughter Molly! It was all here, everything I needed. And it was in just the right package, too! Without this stuff, much as they might suspect, no one could prove that Molly was really Uncle Hubert's bastard child. With it, the proof would stand up anywhere. And I had it all, right in my hands, to do whatever I wanted with! For just a second, I forgot all about my present condition. I forgot that I was feminized, bound, bare breasted and bare-assed, bridled speechless and hobbling about on my knees. For that brief moment, I was Martin Howard all over again, a man of wealth and status, with infinite possibilities stretching out before him: Should I take this stuff to my greedy relatives and let them bid to buy my silence? Or should I play the hero and be the one to bring the long-lost daughter back to the arms of her dying, loving, and financially grateful repentant father? Either way, I was going to be richer than I ever had been before. All I had to do was tell She Devil that I'd had enough of Circus Life, drop out of the troupe and disappear, only to resurface in a few days as my real self. Well, I decided, all things considered I might as well be Mr. Nice Guy and tell Molly about her inheritance and help her prove her claim to it. Besides, that would give me a chance to see She Devil again, and find out if she'd respond to me as I really was: A man! Sighing through my open-mouth tube, I decided I'd better replace the envelope and try to sneak back to my trailer. Still in my uncomfortable bondage (a little easier now with my arms not bound together, but still awfully awkward) I pranced my ass beck to the scrapbook and, clutching the envelope as best I could with my thumb and taped fist, began putting it back. And then a hand reached down from behind and snatched it away! End of Part 2. --