Author's Note: Roll up, roll up, The Circus is back in town; a medley of thrills and spills; here to tease and to please, to delight and excite; you'll meet familiar characters and exotic caricatures; all the base emotions are here: lust, hate, fear, envy; all freely available, a world of escapism.

There is something here for everybody: fame, infamy, laughter, pain, desire, satisfaction, sex, heartache and, perhaps, love; it's your chance to see, to touch and, if you're lucky, to be touched; a window on a wonderous world or, for the very lucky, a doorway into it.

Why not give yourself up to the hedonistic delights of the circus ? We promise you won't ever want to leave.

This is a sequel to 'The Circus' and is set some ten years later. As with my other sequels that are not specifically serials, you don't have to have read the original to understand it but, if you have already met the characters, you might enjoy it more.


The blonde has just the right degree of desperation to make the perfect gimp; the red cocktail dress with its sparkles and an A-line skirt that is slightly too short for her to feel comfortable wearing; she pulls it down a dozen times as I regard her. She tries not to look at me but I know it is my gaze that disturbs her, makes her glance nervously about as I watch her, finishing my cigarette. Then there are the shoes, car-to-bar jobs, red and shiny and now spattered with dark brown mud, they are ridiculous for walking through a field; what did the brainless tart think a circus involved, a catwalk and cocktail bar ? She is plump, not unreasonably so but she has a curvaceousness that is unfashionable and, in expectation of misogyny at its worst, she has packaged herself in a waist cincher of some sort under the dress; it draws her waist in and hefts her already bulging breasts into a vulgar display of creamy flesh that is, at once alluring and yet repellant in its confirmation of her desperation; but, hell, I'm ok with that; it makes her an easy target.

She's a cherry, ripe and shiny and red in her sparkly dress with it's high hemline and low neckline that leaves her shoulders bare; I'm confident that if I peeled it away I would find she wasn't wearing knickers but the skirt is thick and heavy and she's leaning against a tent pole so I can't confirm it. I can see traces of the lacy red bra that, with the help of the corset, serves up her big creamy jugs with the help of clear plastic bra straps over her shoulders.

If she was slimmer and a little prettier, she'd be a flirt or a cocktease or, perhaps, just a slut; as it is she radiates desperation. I guess she's probably nineteen, maybe twenty, the end of the teenage years when physical appearance seems more important than anything else in terms of getting noticed.

She's actually not bad looking; she has nice blue eyes and she's clearly taken a lot of time on her make up: smooth foundation, dark brows, heavy dark mascara and shiny red lipstick with a hint of sparkle that almost matches the dress.

It's a shame she'd been stood up.

'I think you need a drink.' I smile rakishly and gently smooth my hair, black and slicked back with oil.

'I'm waiting for someone.' Her accent is from the north somewhere near where we are currently camped. Despite her denial, when she looks at me, I can immediately see her interest but she makes herself look away.

Perhaps she's more of a slut that I thought.

'He's not coming.' I put my hand against the pole, leaning in slightly too close for her to feel comfortable but she doesn't move away. I know she is attracted to me, lots of the woman I meet are, the circus gives an allure and then there's the lean body that a life on the road gives, all that heavy physical work; my deeply tanned skin; the tattoos on my chest; I am that cliche that is tall, dark and handsome...and a little exotic.

'I'm sure he'll be here.' She looks at me with those blue eyes, her gaze drifting down to my bare chest where the long, brown leather coat I'm wearing hangs open. The tattoos are intertwining ropes in celtic knots that link the bands on my arms; my right nipple is pierced with a small barbell. Women like the lean, muscular look; they like a 'bit of rough' too and the brown cargo pants with the torn knees and work boots help provide that look.

'Come on, we have an hour before the show starts.' I smile again, leaning closer. 'My tent's just over there.'

The invitation to come inside tips her over the edge and she nods, smiling mostly with her mouth but a little with her eyes.

I take her hand and lead her across the trampled grass aware of the way she struggles to walk in her stilettos.

Half way she stops me and pulls off her shoes.

Now I know I have her.

I lift the flap of my tent and usher her inside. It's spartan but comfortable, old rugs to cover the ground, a small folding table with two stools, a leather camp chair with an orange box beside it that serves as a table beside it and my bed, a low palate with a double mattress; there's a wood burning stove too, it's late summer and the air has a damp chill in the evenings; there are strings of lights draped around the top of the canvas walls the bulbs growing dimly. My costume hangs on the back wall beside a pile of props on a pair of old animal cages.

I watch her take it in. If she is like the others who come for the excitement of the night circus, the adult show; she will see the opportunity to enter one of the private tents as an extra thrill.

She is still nervous and I know it is her first time. She has, no doubt, heard what we do and ventured here for...what ? A little excitement, perhaps, a little spice...

She sits on one of the stools and I produce two heavy, old fashioned glasses and a bottle of bourbon. I pour her a generous measure despite her protests and a similar one for myself. We chink the glasses together and I down mine in one feeling the familiar thrill as it burns down inside me. She takes a cautious sip and but then, looking up at me does the same so that, a moment later, a red flush erupts on her cheeks and throat.

I refill the glasses.

'Is that yours ?' She points at the costume, the long red coat and the white leather breeches, the shiny black boots and the top hat.

'Yes.' I take another draught of bourbon, only half the glass this time. 'I am the Ringmaster.' I spread my arms bob my head in a bow that is unnecessarily ostentatious. 'Is it your first visit ?'

'Is it that obvious ?' She looks at me almost shyly, a child caught doing something naughty but cute. I imagine she used that look a lot when she was young. I'll bet she had her dad wrapped around her little finger.

'We all have to start somewhere.' I grin as I recall my first visit ten years before.

There is a noise at the back of the tent from one of the cages currently hidden under a tarpaulin.

'Have you got an animal in here ?' She stands suddenly, eyes bright with excitement and the first hit of the bourbon.

I watch as she crouches, curious, lifts the tarpaulin.

A pair of eyes look back at her.

Human eyes.

I smile as the blonde stumbles back in surprise, dropping the tarpaulin which slides to the floor revealing the cage's occupant.

Tania is restrained in what is best described as a strappy bitch suit which is how I like to keep her these days; a harness of tan leather strapped around her body that restrains her with her arms folded up, mitted hands linked behind her collar and legs bent so her ankles are strapped to her thighs and she has to crawl on her elbows and knees. She is muzzled too.

Tania was once Madam Tania, the circus' ringmistress but the circus is a democracy and, a couple of years ago, she lost the popular vote which is why she's now in the cage.

Tania looks up at the blonde with her dark eyes appraising her in much the same way as I have just done.

It might have be the blonde's first visit to the circus but she isn't as shocked as she might have been. I watch her drop forward onto her knees and reach through the bars to stroke Tania's glossy brown hair.

At that moment, there is a 'knock', a rap on the canvas of the tent flap, and Willow comes in.

Willow is a redhead and when I first laid eyes on her she was being punished by Madam Tania; spread out and naked with clamps on her nipples and clit; I was given the opportunity to whip her but I was less experienced then passed up that chance, though I've done it many times since.

She joined the circus a few months before I did, literally running away from home; in her case an abusive boyfriend who pandered to her sadomasochistic desires but tended to go way over the top. She's headstrong and fiery, just like the cliche of the redhead but she can be obedient when she wants to be and she willingly submitted to Madam Tania to get herself taken on. When I joined she was the knife-thrower's assistant and she spent her nights in the ring wearing nothing but a pair of red thigh boots and getting hot wax spattered across her tits and pussy.

Over the last ten years she's not changed a lot, she still knows what she wants and she's willing to submit her pert little body to pretty much anything to get it. In the ring, she's currently my pony, which is to say that, among other jobs, she pulls my chariot into the show.

The punters love a pert pony.

She's been out working the crowd as usual wearing her trademark shiny thigh boots; blue ones tonight. Her costume tonight has a comic strip feel about it, a very short hooped skirt over a tiny thong and a bustier style top that makes the most of her small perky breasts. There is a matching collar around her neck and she carries a whip. She's makes most of her own costumes and quite a few of the others that we use too.

She is sexy and confident and, in costume, she always draws a crowd. She runs our social media and has become something of the 'face' of the circus; all the men who visit the circus follow her and her posts and performances ensure she keeps their interest.

I watch her appraise the blonde. 'Cute.' She opines.

The blonde has turned herself away from Tania and is looking up. The smile across her face tells me she recognises Willow. She stands and walks towards her as if mesmerised, then slowly walks around the redhead to see her from all angles.

Willow gives me a knowing look and submits to the girl's scrutiny.

'This is Willow.' The blonde looks at me. There is excitement in her voice.

It seems it isn't just men who follow her.

I watch as the blonde reaches out towards Willow's as if she wants to make sure she is real.

'Have you ever thought of performing ?' I ask her.

'What ? Me ?' The blonde turns withdrawing her hand.

Everyone wants the same thing, somebody to love them, to get laid, to be recognised...admired. Fifteen minutes of fame can stay with you for a lifetime.

'The truth is...' I reach out and hook my finger into the D-ring on Willow's collar, pulling her towards me as I look at the blonde. 'We're a bit short and your well...' I look at her meaningfully. 'You have the right assets to make the perfect...glamourous assistant.'

She blushes beautifully and the bourbon I've forced down her throat does the rest.

'Would I get to wear a costume like this one ?' She looks back at Willow.

'Oh, yes.' I smile my best wolfish smile. 'Why don't you go with Willow, she'll pick something out for you.'

I watch them go then swallow the last of my bourbon and light a cigarette, glancing down at Tania as I stand to leave. She is watching me with her dark eyes.

'What ?' I scowl.

She was initially resentful when I made her into my pet, keeping her chained up and caged. I started muzzling her because I thought she might bite me but now it's just because I can. There's something exciting about a woman who has been denied the power of speech, the frustration in her eyes, the humiliation of being treated like and animal but the way Tania looks at me sometimes makes me uncomfortable and that's why I sometimes cover her cage with the tarpaulin even though I like to look at her in bondage and enjoy her slim, toned body strapped tightly into the harness.

I turn and push my way out of the tent to check on Carol. I can deal with Tania later.

Carol is in the booth. Blondes are good publicity.

I've made some changes to Madam Tania's original booth and, as I approach, I can see a crowd gathered round laughing and feeding the slots as they enjoy tormenting the helpless blonde inside.

Tonight,Carol is naked though I do sometimes dress her up, usually in split crotch knickers and a peephole bra; I wouldn't want to spoil the punter's fun. She is sitting astride a narrow wooden bar with her feet currently about four inches off the floor of her glass prison; she must have been like this for a while because her toes are currently at full stretch as she struggles in vain to relieve the pressure on her sex. It is a very narrow bar and, with her ankles cuffed in place and her wrists strapped to her thighs, there is no way she can stop the pain.

It's a simple arrangement, a quid in the slot lowers the floor for fifteen seconds. Feed them in sequentially and girl in the booth goes on suffering. You even get the thrill of watching her look at you, pleading. If you're a real sadist and have a good stash of coins you can really make her suffer. We usually keep the girl inside gagged and the booth is pretty soundproof so what you get to see is mostly that doe-eyed pleading look that girls in bondage give when you're pushing their kinky little bodies beyond their comfort zone.

The bar isn't the only torment the booth allows and, as I watch, I see a guy in a leather jacket push a coin into another slot and frantically wind a handle; Carol's clamped nipples move as the handle turns but this isn't the main aim of the device though I guess it must hurt; turning the handle builds up a charge that will jump from one of those science experiment van-der-graaf generators to the helpless girl's tautly stretched little buds. It gives quite a kick and it makes a loud bang too so that even the most experienced of girls will jump.

I'm pretty pleased with my booth and I've currently got Harpreet who keeps these things running, working one of those 'strengthometer' devices where you hit a button with a hammer and something goes up to ring the bell, only this one will push something else up and ring a completely different sort of bell. Perhaps I'll be able to try it out on the new blonde.

Around Carol, expectation builds; the punters, nearly all men, are well oiled and they bait the guy who is turning the handle, telling him he is a wimp and won't manage to create a spark in the thirty or so seconds allowed; this is equated to his inability to satisfy a woman in general. There are two girls with them, both standing with their arms folded over their breasts in a slightly defensive way and I hear one comment to the other about foreplay and premature ejaculation. Then the spark discharges, a bright flash arcing across Carol's tightly stretched breasts in the harsh LED-lit half darkness, and the guys crowding round the booth jump as much as Carol on her punishing bar.

The look of pain etched on her face leaves a lingering image.

Then there is a lot of cheering and back slapping until one of the men notices that the floor of the booth is rising and they all slap their pockets trying to find change to maintain Carol's suffering.

Carol's eyes open and her gaze flicks up towards me; expressing the pain she is enduring in 'eloquent symphonies' as I once heard it described. She's been in the booth a couple of hours now and the punters have been milling round for some time; I'm guessing she's endured quite a lot this evening but, when this group run out of change and go off in search of some other titillation, there's probably time for another group to have a bit of fun with Carol.

Carol is my original blonde in a red dress; there have been a few dozen since. We enjoyed a thing once; we were both 'recruited' into the circus on the same night and we ended up fucking pretty constantly for the first couple of years but I realise now it was more a convenience than anything else, we certainly didn't fuck exclusively and sometimes, I think it was just that we were caged together at night and harnessed side by side when we pulled the wagons. Having said that, it wasn't unusual for us to fuck all night; we got through a lot of amber in those days.

When I got more freedom, I realised I wasn't a one woman man and the circus gave me an opportunity to explore that; with the amber, a man can go all night; it seems to perk a woman up a treat too.

Carol is fucking the knife-thrower at the moment, at least she's replaced Nevaeh who replaced Willow in his act; however, I've seen her tied up behind his wagon after the last few performances with her tits and pussy still spattered with wax as a result of their act.

When she's not enduring a hot waxing or straddling the pole in the booth, she rides bareback and, in fact, bare all over aside from nipple tassels and a skirt that doesn't do much except encourage you to look up it.

She's good at what she does but I think she's has had enough of the circus and, if she could, would leave, but nobody leaves the circus; once you're in, you stay, unless you get dumped. Carol is way too much of an asset to dump by the roadside.

Neveah wasn't.

So, for the moment, Carol is eye-candy and a little foreplay to whet appetites for the main event, a little like Willow, designed to draw the punters in and get them to part with their cash. A circus doesn't run itself.

I wink as she looks at me and see a flicker of something in those pleading blue eyes that seems to go beyond simple physical pain or, perhaps it's just the harness gag. Despite ten years living my kinky fantasies, I never tire of seeing a woman wearing a harness gag; there's something about the way the straps just block out the corners of her eyes, impeding her vision and breaking up the lines of her face, it somehow makes her appear more subjugated than a gag alone, vulnerable, adding to the humiliation of being forced to drool by the big ball that violates her mouth and stops intelligible speech.

Carol looks so good like this; she drools so beautifully too. When Willow or Sugi prepare her for the booth they usually dip her gag in honey to increase the effect. Tonight she is in a real mess with saliva all over her chin and breasts, strands of it hanging, dripping from her nipples; utterly humiliating her and making sure she's a real crowd-pleaser.

I make sure she sees me, registers my presence, understand the power I have over her; I am the Ringmaster, the one who can put her in the booth when I chose. Then I wink again, mocking her, and turn away.

I head over to the props tent where I part a couple of sheets of canvas at the back to see what Willow is doing with the new blonde.

The redhead already has the buxom blonde out of her dress which has been thrown over an empty cage so she is now wearing just her bra and a merry widow type corset; I was right about the knickers.

'Is this leather ?' The girl is holding a black bra.

'You can wear rubber if you prefer.' Willow smiles and takes the leather bra hanging it back on the rail. We have a lot of this sort of stuff.

'I've alway wanted to wear rubber.' The blonde says with a slight tremble in her voice and I see Willow smile. She knows I am watching.

The blonde takes off the waist cincher and undoes her bra.

He breasts are even bigger than I thought, large heavy melons that roll out from her chest; the nipples are as big as the tops of my thumbs; her bottom is nicely rounded too. Her skin is quite pale but currently she is flushed with excitement so that she glows with a fresh pink heat.

I watch as Willow pulls out a bubblegum pink rubber suit and sprinkles it with talcum powder then helps the blonde to dress, rolling it over her feet and ankles as the girl sits on a tea chest apparently unconcerned or unaware that her neat pink pussy is providing a glistening display. She stands and Willow partly rolls and partly slides the clinging latex up the girl's legs; the suit is a little small for her and stretches deliciously over her body, like a second shiny skin, clinging to her thighs and her bottom; her arms slide in next and then the material stretches around her breasts so they protrude, bulging balloons of bare flesh amid the smooth glossy latex. The suit locks at the neck, a rubber strap with a padlock and the girl barely reacts as Willow closes it.

Apart from her breasts and her head, the only other part not covered by the suit is her sex; at her crotch, the latex gapes exposing a swathe of flesh that presents her shaved pussy for access and inspection and exposes the pink skin of her full round bottom. Secure in the suit, her exposed skin is even more red and flushed and I watch as her fingers trace over her new latex skin.

'This is really kinky.' Her voice carries a nervous amusement and the huskiness of sexual excitement. Most of our new gimps are willing to some degree but whether they stay that way or end up having to be driven with the cattle prod can be hard to predict. Neveah enjoyed it for a while at least.

There's a show in all of them, especially if they've got nice tits.

'We have a corset here somewhere.' Willow opens a wicker chest and hunts through a pile of kinky rubber and leatherwear lifting a few items out and depositing them on the blonde's outstretched arms. From my vantage point I can see the redhead's toned bottom and the thong disappearing into her pouting pussy which I've recently found myself enjoying quite frequently; like most redheads, she has a particular taste that goes beyond the normal saltiness; I've heard redheads described as smelling like foxes; the certainly have a characteristic tang.

With Carol screwing around, I don't want anyone here, especially her, thinking I'm lonely.

Willow straightens pulling a heavy black rubber corset from the depths of the chest.

The blonde smiles and heaves her burden back into the chest, raising her hands above her head to allow Willow to close the corset round her waist and I watch with mounting excitement as her shape is transformed. Though she works alone, Willow has done this countless times before and has strong fingers so that soon the blonde has a tiny waist compared to her size, with her heavy breasts and big arse bulging above and below it.

'Wow.' The blonde smiles as she catches her reflection. 'You must help me dress more often.'

Willow doesn't answer; she simply holds up a hood in pink latex to match the suit.

'Don't want your boss recgnising you.'

'I don't have one.' The blonde has said it a little too quickly and I'm suddenly intrigued. 'Er...I quit my job today.' She adds, again a little too quickly and with a false smile.

'Oh.' Willow turns towards me and then back again quickly. 'Your boyfriend then.'

'I definitely don't have one of those.'

'Oh.' Willow is intrigued too and I wonder who the blonde was waiting for.

'In fact, I don't have any ties.' She looks at Willow. 'If I disappeared tonight, nobody would notice.'

Willow pulls the hood over the girl's head and then smooths it, moulding it to her features, anonymising her.

I think I might have been had but, who cares; a gimp is a gimp.

A neck corset follows, heavy black rubber like the corset around her waist so that the blonde, now unrecognisable, moves with a stiffness that makes her a little like an automaton.

'Do you know what this is ?' Willow hold up a black leather single sleeve.

The blonde turns slightly awkwardly to look at it and then, saying nothing, turns her back and presses her arms together behind her.

I am impressed by the way her elbows nearly touch.

It is about thirty minutes to the start of the show and I leave the blonde being restrained, sure I will get the full benefit of her attention later, though by the way she was responding to Willow, I wonder if the boyfriend comment means she might have been waiting for a girl if the whole thing wasn't an act. Perhaps she wasn't waiting for anyone at all, perhaps, like so many before her, she was trying to run away to join the circus.

It's been ten years since the circus found me. I can't really say I ran away, it's more that the circus that took me but I've found my niche here and, like the blonde, I had no ties to pull me back.

We say you can never leave the circus, that it always holds on to you. Even the punters are addicted, traveling across the country when we announce a show and pitch our tents, sending out messages to the chosen, the ones that 'Know'. I suspect many would join if they could but you have to be the right fit and, once you're in, there's no going back. Those who run beside us or perform once wake up by the roadside with a blur of memories and, if they are lucky, their clothes.

There is a line outside Summer's tent, the Tattooed Lady now tells fortunes many of which revolve around the imminent prospect of parting with a decent quantity of cash in return for twenty minutes humiliation in the dominatrix's dungeon, kissing her whip, licking her boots and, if you pay enough getting to wank of on her impressive tattooed body and big heavy tits.

She may have committed a crime but she served her time under Madam Tania and now she gets to reel in the punters, fuck who she chooses and even put her feet up during the day, usually on former Madam Tania's back.

Surprisingly, she doesn't bear Tania any ill will and the two fuck regularly, though it is usually Summer that 'tops' more because it's expected than because she wants to. At the end of the day, while she struts in her heels for her mostly male punters, tightens ball clamps and jerks on cock leashes, she's a dyke who wants nothing more than a bit of her old mistress' salty but still very juice slit shoved in her face while Tania does the needful for her.

I keep them caged side by side a lot of the time, both in strappy bitch suits, and have them in my bed when it's cold. They might be older than me but they are warm and bring a wealth of experience with which the firm flush of youth can't hope to compete. Give them a shot of the amber and they'll both give a night of pleasure like four girls half their ages. Even the thought of lying between their two tightly restrained bodies, feeling the pressure of their breasts and the wetness of their pussies is enough to make me give up all thought of racy younger models.

As I pass, I see Summer's door is shut with her 'Cum back in 10 mins' notice displayed. She clearly has a client in her back room and I can imagine the poor sap kneeling in front of her being forced to forced to lick the mud off her boots before having his scrawny hide decorated with pretty red stripes.

Back in my tent, I let Tania out of her cage enjoying the way she is forced to crawl on her elbows and knees by the harness that adorns her body. Out of the cage, she kneels up, smiling behind her muzzle, dark eyes flashing. She might be past fifty but she still excites me, she is so full of lust.

It was her that drew me into the circus, extracting sixty quid from my pocket in the process; for that reason alone, I would never leave her by the roadside; besides I need her to make the one layer of the sandwich I enjoy between her and Summer.

I remove her muzzle and she licks her lips.

'I wondered when you were going to release me.' She still speaks as if she still runs the place.

'I'm in control now.' I remind her, careful not to be taken in by her willful impertinence.

'Don't be ridiculous.' She scoffs. 'You wouldn't last a week without the feel of my lips and tongue on your cock.' I can sense her smile. 'Though I do wish you'd take me to your bed a little more often. A girl does have needs too you know and, much as I care for Summer and her lovely tongue, there's no substitute for throbbing cock being rammed desperately inside you.' She pauses and licks her full red tattooed lips. 'Just remember that as you fuck that new blonde piece you've just acquired. She won't be as good you know.'

Tania can be really arrogant for woman who's essentially my bondage slut, my pet girl. I've tried beating her; I hung her by her ankles for two days once and whipped her 'til her tits bled but she didn't change. I thought piercing her might show who was boss but she actually seemed to like it, though she did howl when I shoved the hot needle through her clit.

I open my coat and she crawls forward, coming up beautifully as she displays her captive body, hands strapped behind her head forcing her to thrust her breasts towards me; balancing on her knees. Her skin is dark and tanned her breasts still surprisingly firm and her ringed nipples big and brown and almost constantly erect.

I have a way of ensuring her nipples are always very sensitive.

I am already stiff, I always am when I touch her, perhaps it's the memory of our first encounter when Madam Tania lured me and Carol into her House of Pain and I was inducted into the circus. She might be a subjugated bitch but there is no lack of enthusiasm to the way she sucks me off, no formulaic lick and swallow; she is always focussed, sensitive to every nuance of my body, her tongue and lips attentive, and what a combination, that strong talented tongue and those firm lips, caressing my cock; only Carol does a job that even comes close to Tania.

Women respond to a firm hand.

When I first usurped her, I used a ring gag, and fucked her throat but it just spoiled the whole experience and now I've got her in her place I've use other methods to ensure she does it right for me. Whips might not subjugate her but I've found if I hold a cigarette to her nipple ring and heat it, she's soon more than willing to perform for me. It keeps her nips sensitive too. That and keeping her caged like the lions she use to tame. She might tell me I'm not a real ringmaster because I've never worked on the old circuses, never tamed lions or mistreated elephants of exhibited dancing bears but I know how to get the best out of my human exhibits; I know how to treat and mistreat them.

Most that come here, of course, want to be mistreated or enjoy the pleasure of others' suffering.

Tania is on good form this evening and soon my cock is drooling and twitching; and she slows her pace, letting me enjoy it, enjoy her mouth and her tongue and my domination over her as she works on me down on her knees where she deserves to be.

'Don't get clever.' I warn.

'Of course not, Master.' She laps my cock as she speaks using that voice that I sometimes think is mocking enough to make me take the whip to her tanned hide but then she takes my cock deep into her throat, her dark eyes flashing up at me, as she takes me from pleasure to ecstasy and I cum my load onto her willing pink mouth enjoying as she swallows hungrily.

'Thank you, Master.' She uses that deep husky voice and kneels up again spreading her elbows and displaying her body to me. I'm going to have to abuse her nipples later for using that tone.

'I wish I'd known you as younger woman.' I say stroking her hair as she kneels demurely, looking up at me with a smug satisfaction. There are young, hot porn stars who couldn't excite me as much as Tania does. I know, I've bedded a few.

'If we'd met when I was younger, I'd have eaten you for breakfast.' She fixes her gaze on me with those dark eyes.

I raise my hand to strike her hoping she'll flinch but she doesn't.

'Just fetch your leash.' I growl.

'Yes, Master.' There is a perfect submission to her tone now but I can't help feeling she is still mocking me.

I turn away and kick off my boots then pull of my cargo pants.

I am the Ringmaster and I have to dress the part.

The punters expect it.

The breeches are tight and white and boots are black shiny and knee high. I make Tania and Summer polish them; sometimes I even let them use their hands. Then there's the long red tailcoat and the top hat. It makes me look good and it's an image I've cultivated. There are women out there who would kill for a night with me.

'Five minutes.' Harpreet knocks on the flap of the tent and I look down to find Tania kneeling at my feet, her leash grasped between her teeth.

I clip the leash to her collar and lead her out into the darkness enjoying the way she if forced to crawl beside me on her elbows and knees; the damp grass brushing against her naked skin, caressing her bare breasts. I stop to let her pee in the grass, enjoying the sight of her kneeling back on her haunches as she relieves herself.

She never misbehaves when I take her out like this and sometimes she even rubs her body against my boots reminding me of the firmness of her still toned body. Perhaps, if she pleases me, I'll give her fucking she craves. Perhaps, if she's lucky, I'll take a shot of the amber and fuck her until all she can't even crawl.

No matter what I do to them, how roughly I treat them, women just seem to want more. I always thought that thing about women preferring bastards was a myth, but they really do seem to like being mistreated; put in their place; especially if it gives them something they want; a taste of the exotic, the chance to experience something different, to share the smell of the grease paint, the roar of the crowd; fame and adulation; perhaps it's just the chance to do something kinky.

It didn't take me long to realise that working outside and living in the roughness of a life on the road has gave me a lean, rangy look that's more than a bit of pumping and iron and acquiring a tan.

Some nights I have to fight off the women.

It's usually women, mostly for one night while the circus is in town; sometimes more than one in a night and often more than one together; there have been a good few dwarves too, Sandy is right fucking goer, she may be small but she still has all the right holes. You haven't experienced life until you've trotted a pony round the big top with Sandy or one of the other dwarves kneeling in front of you sucking your cock and Willow buggering you from behind with a strap on.

There have been a few men too, but not many; I guess I'm just not that sort of guy.

We pass the last of the punters hurrying to take their seats. I recognise a few and they nod to me; they're all weirdos; goths and fetishists, swingers or, at the very least, they love to dress up: rubber and leather, lingerie; sexy schoolgirls; catwomen; some copy our costumes. When the circus comes to town, they just seem to come out of the woodwork. A few wander in, of course, like I did all those years ago but mostly those who should be here Know when and where we'll be; Willow somehow gets the message to the right people.

Sandy is there at the performer's entrance, standing with Willow in harness, holding the redhead's reins; the pert little pony is prancing slightly as she always does before a show, the nerves creeping through and there are fresh whipmarks on her haunches; I used to think these were because Willow misbehaved and didn't like being harnessed but I think it is something Sandy and Marla do to get her fired up when they are harnessing her.

As usual, the Willow looks gorgeous, transformed from hot hostess to even hotter pony; whatever she's wearing or not wearing, the punters love Willow.

Her harness is made of heavy black leather straps with a thick padded halter of leather that buckles tight on her slim body; the collar is high enough to keep her chin up and the little corset nips her waist; there is a tight crotch strap too which, if Willow's had her way, will be holding a dildo and, probably a butt plug inside her; leather rings encircle her perky little breasts and bells hang from her pierced nipples. She is wearing pony boots too and, of course, a bridle; bit between her teeth, blinkers, plumes; she's the perfect pony down to the tail that matches her lovely red mane.

I peer inside the tent, it's a full crowd and the last of the latecomers are squeezing onto benches. Then I give the nod and the music starts; a snatch of Hotel California; 'you can check out but you can never leave'; nobody leaves the circus though a few saps and a lot of gimps get dumped.

I hand Tania's leash to Sandy and climb into the Ringmaster's chariot.

The melody fades and Carmina Burana comes on, loud and classical - something to get the crowd going and, when they are ready, I drive Willow forward barely aware of her lovely high-stepping trot as I bathe in the roar of the crowd. I guess they are probably cheering Willow as much as me; as she strains in her harness, lifting her thighs, every part of her focussed on putting on a show. That's why she's here, of course, Willow is an exhibitionist and performing as the Ringmaster's pony gets her off, that and the dildo, of course, the higher she steps and the faster she trots, the more she gets fucked; some nights she can barely stand at the end of the evening. The crowd are right behind her and I give her three full laps of the ring, liberally using the whip, until she was panting and well lathered. By now, the newbies will know what they're getting, know that the circus will fulfill their expectations, live up to their dreams; they are among friends who share their tastes.

I drive Willow to the centre where I dismount and take up the mic, moving forward to hold Willow's reins close to her bit. Her eyes are shining and her face flushed with excitement as she enjoys the adulation of the crowd.

'Gooooood Eeeevening ladies and gentlemen...' I hold up my hand. '...and welcome to the greatest show on earth...'

The crowd cheer and I give them a moment to settle.

'Now that you've had a little foretaste of what is to come...' I gesture to Willow and the crowd cheer again. '...prepare to be thrilled, excited...' I pause, adding innuendo to my voice. 'Yes, very excited...' I look at the panting pony next to me. 'Willow is certainly very pleased to see you.' I rub one of her nipples and Willow shakes her hips suggestively; the crowd go wild, cheering, as Marla, one of our dwarves in her usual gold bikini, takes my place and the chariot and drives my little pony out of the ring, getting her moving by a flick of the whip that catches her beautifully on the right buttock.

I introduce Carol, our first act, and in a moment, the blonde is galloping bareback into the ring, her hair flying and her nipple tassels bouncing on the tips of her pert little titties. Carol rides real horses; straddling one and leading the other; a matching white. She looks good riding near naked in her skirt and nipple tassels. Like Willow, she's a crowd pleaser, such a bod, toned and tough like me from her ten years here, a great arse and nice pair of perky tits; everyone loves a blonde. Watching her makes me remember how much I miss fucking her.

Looking back it seemed to drift off when I started my bid to take over as Ringmaster. I had to share my affection widely to get the others on side; it was a slow process and took nearly three years. I'd hoped Carol might support me but she didn't seem to understand that I wanted to be top dog. I suppose she liked our cosy arrangement. Perhaps she thought we'd stay like that but I wanted to move on. I told her that if she wasn't with me she was against me; she spouted some shit about knowing what was good for me and I told her to piss off.

She should have realised I wasn't any longer the complete loser I'd been before joining the circus, fantasising over Suki, the girl in the booth on the night we both met reeking of desperation; the tongue tied twat who'd looked at Carol and wanted to cum in his boxers. How could she know what I wanted, what I needed ? She was a stuck up horsey girl who'd had the breaks, a hot blonde who'd been invited to polo parties and regattas. She'd tried to tell me that her life had all felt as meaningless and empty as mine and she'd chosen to run away and join the circus. I'd believed her at first.

Then I realised it was just a game to her that I was her bit of rough and I soon learned how rough she liked it and with the amber I'd just kept doling it out and she kept lapping it up. She seemed to be a real masochist and I found my calling as a sadist. I know now the amber is bourbon (or any other spirit at a pinch) laced with crushed viagra but it seemed exotic then as did our new lives in the circus.

With Tania and Summer to keep me warm, I don't need the amber quite so much these days though I do use it to perform all night when I take a couple of girls back to the tent. I have a reputation to keep up and if I have to satisfy two or three girls at a time I need stamina even if they want me to do some pretty kinky things to them. I'm the first to admit, I not hung like a stallion but then the girl's aren't interested in something that's hanging, they want a stiff rod and, usually a firm hand, its amazing how may of them like it rough, get off on pain and humiliation; a lot like to be tied and some even ask to be whipped; I'm not sure I've ever met a girl who didn't enjoy a spanking.

As Carol's act comes to a climax I watch her riding balanced with one foot on the back of each the two horses at full canter; the crowd are cheering; when she rides like this, nothing is left to the imagination, the skirt lifts, the tassels flutter and everything that isn't nailed down bounces; there isn't a guy in the tent who would't want his face to be a saddle when that pussy drops and straddles the lead colt.

Carol does a couple of laps and then trots off. One of her nipple tassels has fallen off as is often the case so one of her little pink buds is one display but she doesn't care. She's as much as an exhibitionist as Willow; the first night, while I was playing the gimp, Carol was playing pony girl and showing herself off to the punters.

She excites the lust of the crowd and I can feel my own cock straining for release; I give them their head before bringing them under control.

My cock is still rigid as I introduce the next act.

'Kinky Kara and Kana from Korea...'

The PA plays some cheesy oriental music that conjures up visions of Asian babes doing kung fu in their knickers.

The pair put on a display of tumbling and tossing you won't see in the Olympics, all accompanied by the jingle of those little bells that pierce their clits and nipples. Their mother was Korean and they have black, shiny hair; those 'oriental' cheekbones; lovely thick lips; small tits and pert bodies. They are virtually identical and, for the first couple of years in the circus, I couldn't tell them apart. The pair are incorrigible and have to be kept on a tight leash, literally, and in tight restraints too. Daria sees to this. The twins are kinky as hell and used to be absolutely rampant; predatory lesbians; when one of them got a crush, they'd squabble, even fight until one succeeded and had her fill (they had and still have big appetites) and then the lucky one would cast the object of their affection off, usually in the direction of the sister who'd lost out. When I arrived at the circus, Madam Tania had them strung up to try and force some sense into them over the pert new trapeze artist, Daria. Kana won that one and I woke one morning to find Kara staked out in between the tents, hooded and gagged and with her nipples clamped while Kana was in the big top on one of the perches with the trapeze artist strapped up by her ankles licking out the acrobat while she herself was being given a good tonguing. A week later Kara was doing much the same thing in a similarly kinky scenario that involved Daria again tied and gagged and hanging by her ankles, but this time, both girls were wearing dildo gags and both were using them to fuck the other.

None of us minded the sex, it was all the fighting and the recriminations before during and afterwards that pissed everyone off.

Fortunately Daria took matters into her own hands, enthralling them, literally so that they quickly became her willing and (mostly) obedient sex slaves and for nearly eight years this has been the state of affairs. To maintain this state, however, Daria has to punish them regularly; something she does with natural flare. The twins have thus spent the last week in chastity belts and when they've not been training or working, Daria's ensured they've been cuffed, usually together and usually in some predicament where their cooperation ensures their comfort.

Their act, of course, relies on this as they leap and tumble, balancing on each other; and, so far they've never let their rivalries interfere with their performance.

Though the twins' act involves a good deal of pussy licking they tell me this is purely professional and their tongues, along with the rest of their lovely lithe bodies belong to Daria. To confirm this, both are branded with Daria's name on their left thigh; their mistress has also ensured there is no confusion between them any longer by having their names tattooed on their buttocks.

The twins get a good cheer especially for the end of their act which sees them largely recreate with each other, the scene they each played out with Daria though with no gags or bondage.

I promise the crowd they will be back.

Then it is time; I get a nod from Harpreet, the dwarf, and the crowd knows what is about to happen; someone starts a slow handclap and then a chant begins.

'Gimp...gimp...gimp...'

The crowd are stamping on the boards and clapping their hands and, when they have reached fever pitch, on she comes; the new blonde; rubber suited with her breasts and her sex and arse showing. The suit makes her body look larger than it really is despite the tight corset that accentuates her curves; she's well built, not fat but perhaps its her huge tits, sticking out and bouncing or the way her pink arse is visible or perhaps it;s the way she walks awkwardly in to toe boots Willow has put her feet into. A huge inflatable hood that has been fitted over her head and this makes her look like some bizarre fetish toy and the way the balloon of a pump gag bobs obscenely as she walks just adds to her strange appearance.

I'm sure she's had a few shots of amber to warm her up and I'll bet either Sandy or Marla has given her a good fingering before bringing her on.

We always let the dwarves bring on the Gimp. Sandy leads and has attached a clamp to one of the girl's big brown nipples which is clipped to a dog leash so the blonde has no way to refuse, particularly when Marla's encouraging her along using a whip to her naked arse if she show's any sign of slowing.

When a girl resists, pulling her nipples usually does the trick and, if I decide to keep any of the gimps, I usually have them pierced, it makes them easier to control. It makes them easy to punish too, like I do with Tania; just hold a lighted cigarette to the ring and heat it; this soon gives you a girl's full attention. Tania, of course, tries to fight this, holding back the screams, her face pale and her body sweating with pain and fear as I heat up her nipple rings.

This keeps a girl's nipples really sensitive too.

Inside the hood, I wonder how much the girl she knows about what is happening to her. The amber will have made her horny and she must know that we deal in bondage and humiliation; she clearly came here looking for something. I'm sure she can hear the crowd as two hundred voices chant new name, 'Gimp...gimp...gimp...'

This is probably a kinky dream come true for her; though it might turn into a nightmare; everybody wants their fifteen minutes of fame and many are willing to go a long way to achieve it; besides, a lot of girls get off on humiliation. What girl wouldn't want to be lead in front of a baying crowd of strangers in tight rubber and bondage with her pussy and tits hanging out ?

She is unsteady in the boots, wobbling a lot so that I think she is going to fall several times; she walks with her big arse shoved out behind her as a lot of girls do when they first try toe boots; it's making a great target for Marla and being 'encouraged' like this doesn't make it any easier to stay on her feet. She only falls once, when Sandy and Marla try to speed her up; stumbling forward and trying to save herself from a face plant by sticking her right foot forward but she doesn't quite make it and so she falls on her side in the sawdust.

Marla starts to scream at her, raining blows down on her anywhere she can as the girl rolls around like and upturned beetle, completely unable to right herself with her arms sheathed behind and wearing the immense heels; in thrashing around, she keeps opening up her pussy to Marla's whip.

The crowd love it.

Eventually, I intervene and the dwarves pull her up; the hot lights and the rubber suit and all the effort of walking in bondage and rolling around have made her sweat and I can see rivers of it running over her huge breasts; sawdust sticks to them and to her pussy which is now embellished with several red stripes. Once she's on her feet, the girls start leading her towards the front row of the crowd where hands reach eagerly to touch her, some quite intimately, some very intimately.

I can't help but smile as a girl in vintage lingerie and a leather collar goes down on her knees, holding the blonde's thighs and shoves her tongue into the exposed pussy. She is clearly a sub but I don't think it's the dom who holds her leash that has made her do it. Like I say, people will do all kinds of stuff to stand out these days; before I dropped out of the world, I remember a show called Big Brother; the circus is just another form of this.

'Madam, please...save some for the rest of us.' I stroll towards the girl wondering if she might be interested in going down later too.

The crowd laughed as the woman returns to her seat smiling and wiping her lips. Her dom seems to imply she will be punished later but she doesn't seem that bothered. Perhaps the dom would like to punish her sub while she sucks my cock.

The gimp is lead on with hands more than tongues caressing and, frequently spanking her.

By the time she's done complete circuit the Gimp seems thoroughly disorientated and blindly obedient to the leash. Her visible skin is now glowing with heat and I can see sweat dripping off her plump nipples. She has become quite unsteady on her feet and as Sandy leads her towards the centre of the ring and she stumbles again, falling and lying on her side, her chest heaving as she tries to breath around the gag.

Marla steps forward and whips her while Sandy tugs on her nipple leash to encourage her to rise but the poor girl barely moves.

I can hear the crowd encouraging her too. 'Up...up...up...!'

We've gone too far with a gimp a couple of times and had to let her go before the show is over and I'm beginning to wonder if we'll have to pull the plug on this one too but, just as I'm about to step in, Marla lands her whip on the girl's pussy and she cries out in pain, kicking her legs and thrashing wildly.

The dwarves drag her up and half support her to bring her to me. It's pretty clear she's has had enough but she's the gimp and gimps at there to be punished and humiliated.

'Ladies and Gentlemen...' I lift my hand. 'The Gimp.'

The crowd cheer and I wait for them to quiet.

'Shall we see if the Gimp can dance ?'

There is a roar of approval and I hear 'Make her dance...dance...dance...'

'Maestro...' I turn towards the side of the ring. 'Music if you please...'

I hear the strains of Beyonce's 'Bootilicious' and Sandy and Marla break into their dance routine, Marla shaking her booty and holding the whip above her head. Marla loves to dance and, though she's not as flashy as Sandy, she's incredibly sensual. However, whether the gimp can hear the music or not, she simply stands there, legs slightly too far apart swaying awkwardly.

'Quite appropriate, don't you think, Ladies and Gentlemen ?' I step towards her. 'Shame our gimp doesn't like it.'

I lower the mic and speak into her ear, or at least where it should be. 'Better put on a good show gimp or this is really going to hurt. Dance or papa use the quirt. Understand ?'

The girl nods.

In the performers' area behind the gimp, I can see the dark shape of Tania kneeling in her bondage, her nipple rings catching the faint light and her dark eyes regarding me coldly.

'Dance, Gimp.' I shout. 'Let's seen you shake that booty !'

The girl begins to dance though she's rather stiff legged in the toe boots.

'I think she needs some encouragement, girls.'

On cue, Harpreet runs and hands something to the each of the dancing dwarves; strap ons. Sandy passes me the Gimp's leash and Marla gives me her whip as they strap the big rubber cocks to themselves. It doesn't take much to force the gimp down onto her knees and then, with Sandy pulling her forwards, Marla enters her from behind. The girl whimpers but Marla persists, fucking her rhythmically and seems to get some sort of response; the crowd begin to clap in time. Perhaps this is what the girl wanted or perhaps the amber is working because I can hear her moaning into her gag and it is not long before she is pushing herself back onto Marla's 'cock' like the bondage slut she clearly is.

Her pleasure doesn't last long though; just as she's beginning to get her rocks off, Marla withdraws.

I hear the girl's moan of frustration.

'Do you wan it back.'

The girl nods.

'Sure ?'

The girl nods again.

And she gets it; Marla driving the dildo into her arse.

The girl squeals into her gag and squirms violently but Sandy and I have a firm hold on her.

Marla continues to pump with the crowd cheering along. Only the three of us in the ring can hear the girl's whimpers.

I let her suffer for a few moments more then tell Marla to stop.

Sandy and I lift the gimp's head so she is kneeling upright with Marla' strap on still buried in her arse then Sandy stands in front, her 'erection' bobbing at just the right level.

'Well ?' I ask the audience. 'Shall give our gimp what she wants ?'

The crowd cheer.

'I can't hear you.'

The crowd roar.

'Much better.'

Sandy shoves her strap on into the girl's pussy and thrusts home and Marla thrusts back from behind, the pink rubber gimp bouncing between them. It doesn't take long for the two to get a rhythm going, Sandy fucking in front and Marla from behind; Sandy is almost smothered by the girls huge tits.

The scene is laughable but it seems to do it for our gimp because, before I've even realised, she's howling raggedly into her gag with her head back and the bladder from her pump gag bouncing off poor Sandy's head. The audience enjoy it too and many are on their feet, clapping and cheering the girl or perhaps the dwarves.

Sandy and Marla enjoy the adulation but the girl simply slumps between them and, when they withdraw from her she is unable to stay upright and Harpreet has to come on with a little cart on which the three dwarves load the exhausted gimp.

'Don't worry, Ladies and Gentlemen, we'll have our gimp back in working order before the end of the show.'

We have a way of repairing them.

Carol is back on next, walking into the ring brazenly wearing nothing but a pair black shiny thigh boots. Even as the knife thrower's assistant she shines, dominating the ring, with her golden hair and her perfect smile; she is still as beautiful as she was the day I first met her when we both arrived at the circus.

Every eye is on her and I have to remind myself again why we are not fucking as my cock stiffens at the sight of her.

She walks with her arms in the air carrying Carlo's knives, her small breasts thrust out, hips swinging as she flaunts her lovely lithe body. Though the outdoor life has tanned her skin, she wears spray tan too which covers the worst of the bruises Carlo has inflicted in the last couple of weeks. Her nipples picked out in bright glossy red to match her lipstick.

Behind her Sandy and Marla pull on the board to which Carol will be strapped for Carlo's act. Harpreet follows juggling the candles that have become legendary among the visitors to the circus. This is undoubtably one of their favourite acts.

Currently, it is mine too.

The dwarves fix the rotating board in place and Carol passes the knives to Harpreet then she stands with her arms and legs spread so Sandy and Marla can strap her in place. I've seen this act hundreds of times, first with Willow and then, briefly with Daria as Carlo's 'target' and then there was Neveah but for a few years now it has been Carol and I find I never tire of watching her submit to bondage in this way. There is something about the way she leans back on the board, turning her head to watch as Marla leaps onto Sandy's shoulders to secure the strap around her left wrist and then her biceps. At this moment, her eyes seem to shine, expectation building within her as it builds in the crowd; an expectation that turns to excitement when her right arm is also strapped down and then the strap around her throat tightened gently. The board is a bondage lover's wet dream, with straps that go around the forehead, across the chest and belly, the thighs and ankles. When the dwarves have finished, Carol is utterly helpless, spreadeagle.

It makes me wish I could tie her again.

There was a time when I seemed to spend half my life tying her up and then, usually, fucking her senseless. It was obvious from soon after I met her that bondage turned her on and that was what had drawn her to the circus. I remember her screaming at me to spank her and then to fuck her as she was locked in the pillory on that first night and then the excitement in her eyes when Madam Tania first put her into the booth.

We both spent a lot of time in bondage then, caged together; fucking whenever we could and, when our bondage was too strict, licking, sucking and teasing so that I can say that my tongue has been intimate with every part of that lovely body.

As time went on, Madam Tania would make me tie her up and then, when I had a tent of my own, Carol became my sub, spending her nights bound in my bed and her days on my leash.

She seemed to love it and love me and I really thought she would support me when I overthrew Madam Tania to become ringmaster but it was at that moment she seemed to become distant and shortly after I threw her out. She's done the rounds since, a year with Willow, even a few months with Harpreet before she moved into Carlo's wagon. I never quite understood why she stayed with him, he was always rough with her; too rough. I spanked her and, when she asked for it, I used the whip on her too but Carlo just beats her. Recently, he seems to have become more violent and when he leave her outside his wagon, naked and bound, I think this is just to punish her further, a way of showing that he doesn't really want her.

The only time he seems to show her any respect is during his act when he is throwing knives at her and spattering hot wax across her body.

By the time Carlo strides on, Carol is hanging upsidedown with a burning candle stuck in her pussy and as he strolls around the ring waving to the crowd, I can see the wax running down onto her labia. When he's good and ready and the candle has had a chance to burn down, Harpreet passes Carlo his knives and he begins to throw.

It is incredible how silent more two hundred people can be and, in this setting, the thud of the knives into the board is jarring; I think Carol may be the only one does not flinch. He throws twice, ends of five blades, the dwarves returning them to him after each set; then he groups four blades between Carol's thighs before using the final blade to extinguish the candle.

By this stage there is a mound of wax heaped up on the blonde's sex.

The girls retrieve the knives and Harpreet relights candle before pulling out of Carol's sex. He holds it up to the crowd who cheer him on; they know what is about to happen and, in a parody of Carlo's action, Harpreet flicks the candle towards Carol as if he is throwing a knife. Molten wax sprays off it across Carol's breasts and the crowd cheer for more.

The other dwarves come to join in, each one of them holding a lighted candle and practicing their throwing technique so that soon, Carol's chest, belly and thighs are spattered with blobs of hot wax.

Eventually, Carlo shoos them away and finishes his act with Carol spinning at dizzying speed like a tormented soul while knives thud into the board around her.

Carol is taken from the ring still strapped to the board; I know she will barely be able to stand, let alone walk with her usual panache for a few minutes and I announce Daria and her two pets who come on for a little pony action, the twins in harness, trotting with their knees rising in unison and their nipple bells jingling, pulling Daria's chariot as she springs on and off it, tumbling and leaping behind them. The crowd love to see pony girls trotting and it's not unusual for some of them to turn up dressed in full pony harnesses. We sometimes do an act where we invite ponies from the audience to race against ours; some of them are pretty good but, so far, I've never seen Kara and Kana bested.

Today, though, it is just them being put through their paces harnessed and bridled, drawing Daria's chariot obediently with their heads up and their bits firmly between their teeth as she drives them with the whip, making them trot and canter and gallop for the delight of the crowd.

And, then, when they leave the ring it is time for my act.

I've learned a number of skills in the circus; I can handle a crowd and I've played the gimp; I can train a pony too, a two legged one; I can also do a creditable fire eating act.

I shrug off my red coat enjoying the adulation of the crowd as they see my body and my tats and I flex for them. The men in the crowd have just had ten minutes of kinky pony play, it's time for the ladies to enjoy a bit of excitement.

I used to be shy but not anymore.

When I look up, I see Carol coming on carrying the tray of gear need for my act. This is strange because it should be Summer; though, I know why summer isn't there.

My stage smile stays on even though I can feel my anger rising, its not the first time. However, seeing Carol like this makes up for it to some degree; she is dressed in a red and black PVC bodice that supports stockings, she sways sexily on heels still a little unsteady after her recent ordeal. I can see spots of wax on her tits and thighs.

She clearly hasn't had time to pull on the black satin knickers that go with the costume or perhaps she just hasn't bothered; she can be beautifully slutty. I notice, she has a bandage round the top of her right arm that looks blood-strained and her face, despite the heavy make up is pale. Despite this, she wears her broad stage smile and I see only a flicker of change in her expression as I mouth the word 'Pissed ?' and she nods imperceptibly.

I look at her arm and she shrugs slightly as if it is of no consequence.

Carlo rarely misses and he hasn't killed anyone yet though we did have to take a gimp to hospital once with a knife still in his leg.

I light the torches and run them across my skin; when you know how to do it, it doesn't hurt and it keeps your hair down too. I know Madam Tania used to do it.

I take a swig from the flask and blow fire into the air to whoops from the crowd as Carol does her 'beautiful assistant' stuff even perching one leg on the edge of the ring so the punters get a view of her lovely pink snatch. Even though she's doing it to show off herself, I can't help liking the way she fawns over me, walking sexily, flirting as she holds the tray and passes my me stuff. At one stage she presses her body against mine, one of her legs lifted so she is pretty much rubbing her pussy on my thigh. I blow three blasts of flame and she kisses me on the cheek.

I juggle the torches too. I'm not a good juggler and I find it even harder with an erection but I can do enough to wow the crowd. Then the gimp is brought back on, wobbling on her impossible heels, still blind and helpless and her bubblegum pink suit and pump hood; the bladder of the pump gag bouncing like her huge tits as she walks. Daria leads her and, following her previous abuse, she is clearly trying to be obedient, perhaps she's happier now she's been fucked. She's brought to stand about eight feet in front of me and I take a mouthful of paraffin; then I blow flames at her tits and she squeals jumping back and falling over onto her bound arms.

Daria lays into her with the whip and she rolls again on the floor but this time with more purpose and she manages to pull her knees under her; this exposes her pussy and I give her a blast of flame; I'm far enough away and the flame is so brief that it won't burn her, though she probably won't need to shave her pussy again for a week or two.

She squeals again and scrabbles forward like a pig leaving the smell of singed hair hanging in the air over the stench of the paraffin.

The crowd roar with laughter.

As I take another mouthful of paraffin, Daria hauls the girl to her feet and spins her round to disorientate her before she gets another blast of heat across her fat bottom. This makes her jump forward, running on her toes, leaping unsteadily from one foot to the other and I follow her, hitting her from behind with fire until Daria catches her and turns her back to face me so I can scorch her tits again.

The crowd are screaming at me to hit her again and, although I can see the skin of her breasts is red and know it is time to stop I am enjoying the adulation. I turn to take the second bottle of paraffin from the tray Carol is holding but, as I reach for it, she steps back and shakes her head a fraction.

I know what she means and, in that instant, I remember why I am not fucking her anymore.

I reach for the bottle again but Carol takes another step back.

The crowd think it is part of the act and encourage me on but Willow suddenly appears drawing my chariot with Sandy driving it.

Some classical chords blare from the PA and it is time for the interval.

I drive Willow hard from the ring thrashing her arse with the whip and jump from my chariot pushing angrily past the other performers and out into the darkness. On the other side of the big top, the punters are spilling out into the brightly lit field talking loudly as they surge towards the bar. I can hear them laughing even as I look for a focus to vent my fury.

Summer is in her tent, feet up on the table, snoring loudly, her gypsy robe hanging open to reveal the leather skirt and bustier she wears beneath. In the dim light the tattoos that cover most of her skin give her a sickly grey-green hue and the slackness of her body makes her seem much older than she is.

For a moment, I wonder why I would ever want to fuck such an ancient hag.

She's so pissed she doesn't even stir as I shove open the door to her tent so I slap her hard and she starts awake, arms whirling as her chair tips, tumbling her to the floor and knocking over the table so tarot cards scatter and her wineglass smashes.

Suddenly awake, she looks up frightened, her brown eyes wide.

'You're a fucking useless bitch...' I scream at her.

Her mouth opens and closes, showing her slack lips and missing teeth but no words emerge, no excuse.

I kick her and she rolls over clutching her side trying to rise and then I scream abuse at her until I can't think of anything else to say. I'm about to kick her again when I hear a sound behind me and turn to see Carol standing there. She's still dressed in the red and black PVC bustier and she now wears the black satin knickers along with the stockings and heels. She doesn't say anything but the look in her face is enough.

I rein in. I've no real idea why I've just hit Summer. I used to be quite fond of her and I feel a knot of remorse in my belly.

I never used to be like this.

'I'm sorry.' I say.

Carol nods and I can see sadness in her blue eyes. I turn to Summer.

'I'm sorry. ' I say again and, this time, I mean it.

There is silence as I think about what I have just done.

When I arrived in the circus, I was shocked by the way Madam Tania treated Summer and I tried to look after her. I even took some beatings for her. I try to tell myself this is pay back but I know it's not true.

I've gained a lot in the last ten years but I've also lost stuff too and I feel the heat of tears as the push themselves into my eyes.

I really need a cigarette and I reach into my pockets.

'Three minutes.' Carol brings me back to reality as I finish my cigarette, the second half is about to start and we begin to walk towards the big top. Despite her heels and the soft mud, Carol walks ahead of me, briskly, businesslike while I skulk behind lighting a second cigarette to steady my nerves and make sure she can't see me cry. I've just beaten up a woman of sixty who's spent the evening selling her body for sex at my bidding. I want to go back and help her, help her up but I must get back for the show.

Carol lifts the flap of the big top but I wait for a moment, taking a final drag before throwing away the cigarette. Then I step past her aware suddenly of our closeness and the familiar scent of her body; sweat and make up and a hint of honey and wax and scorched flesh; I see the spots of black wax on her tits and then I look up into her blue eyes. I've got pretty good at reading people during my time in the circus though, for some reason, Carol has always remained an enigma; however, I'm sure her expression is not the reproach or anger I expect, it's the sadness I've seen for a while now; and for a moment the heat of tears presses against my eyes again as I recall all the good times. I want to stop and talk to her but I can hear music, the start of the second half; Amy Winehouse singing 'Rehab'.

The moment passes and we are back in the big top.

'Interesting choice.' Carol says securing the flap.

'What ?' I turn, thinking she's talking about Summer and what I've done to her, thinking that she's going to say her piece here where everyone can hear her.

'Your new gimp.' Her eyes lead me towards the girl.

The blonde has been locked in a frame ready for her appearance in the second half, it's a kind of pillory and stocks arrangement, wrists locked up by the side of her head in a wooden board, ankles locked in the stocks; her tits still pop through the pink rubber suit ready for abuse and, with her legs spread her sex is still vulnerable. The pump gag has been removed though her face is still hidden by the tight pump hood and the huge ring gag that sits behind her teeth is now visible; she is drooling freely.

'I thought she was good.' I say ignoring what I know Carol means.

Tania is kneeling to the other side of the aisle, her body hidden in shadow though again the glint of her nipple rings provides two points of light to distract me from the way her eyes glower in the darkness of her face.

'You plan to keep her then ?' Carol reaches out and fondles one of the Gimps huge tits and the girl cries out causing a gush of saliva from her gag.

I shrug. 'Maybe.'

We keep a few of them; I was the gimp once, three years of humiliation and bondage;

of course it isn't just in the ring, the gimp is the willing tongue or cock or pussy for the entire troupe, at the beck and call of all to be used and abused; I loved every minute of it.

Sometimes we pick a gimp up for a week though a few get to stay for half a season, some longer; most wake up cold and naked by the roadside and go back to their pathetic, ordinary lives to spend their waking hours dreaming of what might have been. 'You can check out, but you can never leave'.

Carol brushes past me and I stand watching her go, her slim waist and her tight arse and that PVC bodice wrapping it all up. I dreamed about girls like that once, fit and kinky and hungry for sex. I'd not really believed they existed, this posh totty type with tight bodies honed by ballet practice and riding lessons who frequented polo parties and regattas but secretly coveted submission and sex; though it never stopped me dreaming about meeting one, dominating one, or even being chained up in her stables, kneeling naked and collared as I licked her riding boots clean. Apparently they did exist and I met one.

It was great while it lasted.

I still remember again the way Carol held my arm as we'd entered Madam Tania's House of Pain; the way she clung to me when she'd seen the degradations and bondage within...and how she'd begged me to spank her.

She is older now, of course, like me, a few lines that weren't there before and a scar from a broken arm when she fell from a galloping horse and the bone went through the skin. That was three years ago; I took her to the hospital myself in one of the trucks and waited for her while she was in surgery. The scar form the metalwork they put in is worse than the one from the break but I suppose it had to be done. She has worse, mostly from Carlo and, where her fake tan has run, I can see the bruises of her recent beatings.

From a distance I see the way life on the road has toughened her and shaped her body making it tauter, more defined, she still has fantastic thighs from all the riding and performing has made her upright so that she naturally walks as if she's on stage; always the confident performer.

In my absence, Willow has seized the initiative and pulled on my red coat.

It is way too large for her but as she strides into the ring the crowd cheer and she seems to grow in stature.

'Ladies and Gentlemen...' She says taking the mic. 'Welcome to the second half of tonight's performance.'

I glower angrily at her for stealing my thunder but the show must go on and I stride on bare chested with Tania crawling beside me on all fours. The PA plays 'Who let the dogs out ?' and the crowd jeer as I parade her round a little and then stop to light a cigarette before seizing the mic from Willow.

'Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome back...' I glare at the redhead ensuring she knows I will punish her later but the rest of my words are lost as the PA system blares out discordant chords and then the fanfare of the 'The Great Escape'. Harpreet comes on driving a 'heavy' wagon; his ponies are Kara and Kana; they're not plumed this time, just wearing 'work harnesses' and their bodies are smeared with grime. Sandy and Marla the female dwarves are encouraging them on dramatically with whips. It's all show, of course, the wagon isn't that heavy but the cage on the back is pretty solid.

Inside the cage is Sugi, our contortionist and escapologist; she's hidden under a blanket and, when Harpreet stops the 'sweating' ponies in the centre of the ring he lifts the cover to show me and the crowd what is beneath.

Sugi is wrapped in heavy chains, fastened with multiple padlocks; she wears an iron mask too. Harpreet reaches into the cage and gropes one of her rubber coated breasts where it pokes through the chains. Sugi recoils in horror and Harpreet smiles, dropping the cover again. He then mounts the wagon and starts to drive slowly round the ring.

A moment later the crowd laugh as Sugi slips out from under the blanket and climbs up onto the top of the cage behind the bench on which Harpreet sits. She is thin, wiry, a natural freak and dressed in her usual grey rubber catsuit. At that moment, Sandy turns and points at Sugi; Harpreet ignores her and gestures for her to get back to work, whipping the ponies but Sandy is persistent and eventually Harpreet turns at exactly the moment Sugi crouches down.

There is a brief 'she's behind you' exchange as Sandy and Marla enlist the help of the crowd to alert Harpreet but, of course, as soon as he reaslises, Sugi makes her escape dodging between three poles that stand in the centre of the ring as the three dwarves make hopeless attempts to catch her.

It is time for me to intervene. I draw my whip and catch Sugi's wrist allowing the dwarves to wrestle Sugi to her knees.

'And so, Ladies and Gentlemen, I wonder of there are any of you in the audience who think they could do a better job of making sure Sugi doesn't escape ?'

Hands go up and there is a murmur of excitement.

Carol struts into the ring in her sexy PVC top and stockings. The crowd cheer and vie for her attention as she peers into the audience. I know what she is looking for and, in a few moments, she's chosen two volunteers, both girls, one dressed in a sleek tube of red rubber running from her breasts to the tops of her thighs; it has strategically placed steel eyelets at the top and bottom; at the bottom there is one in the middle at the front and one at the back and padlocks fasten what looks like a steel bar between her legs, tight against he crotch; the other eyelets have chains locked to them which run down her thighs to the top of glistening wet-look leather thighboots with enormous heels; at the top there are four eyelets which are padlocked to chains that run up to a steel collar locked around her neck so that between the boots and the collar and the bar between her legs, she is locked inside the rubber sheath. She isn't particularly pretty but heavy make up and long false lashes add to the appeal of the rubber outfit and her dark hair is long lush.

Her companion is a blonde with big breasts strapped firmly into a black heavy duty leather bra that is a mass of buckles and studs; she wears a matching leather miniskirt and thighboots that rival her companion's; she appears quite the dominatrix.

Carol takes the mic and establishes that their names are Jackie and Amelia and that they've come together and that they know a thing or two about tying people up. Though Jackie in the red rubber, not surprisingly, identifies herself as a sub and Amelia, the blonde, gives a clear indication of being dominant, they are not a couple and Jackie admits to being forced to wear the chastity dress by her dominant boyfriend.

'I can't really get at anywhere useful.' Jackie tells Carol in a Geordie accent pulling at her dress, but the bar between my legs is actually quite nice and, if I want to, I can just about get my nips out.' She pulls hard on the top and a pink nipple pops into view and reveals that she has a tattoo in the top of her breast saying 'Martin's Slut'.

'And what about you, Amelia ?' Carol asks. 'Have you abandoned your boyfriend...or girlfriend for the evening ?'

'I'm married.' Amelia holds up her hand to show her wedding ring. She has a soft Welsh accent.

'And you didn't bring your husband ?' Carol laughs conspiratorially. 'You naughty girl.'

'Very naughty.' Ameila has clearly enjoyed her time in the bar and she grasps the microphone.' 'I've left him tied up in the flat.'

'Really ?' Carol is used to these sort of claims.

Amelia laughs and pulls a mobile phone from the top of her boot.

'And is this him ?' Carol peers at the screen.

Ameila nods.

'Why don't you describe this to our lovely audience tonight.'

'Well...' Amelia holds the image before her and the crowd still. 'He's naked...' There is a murmur in the crowd. '...and he's standing bent over with his balls in a wooden clamp...' It is moments like this that, apart from the overt kinkiness of the performances, draw the punters back to us. '...his hands are cuffed behind his back and chained to the ceiling...' The crowd are enthralled now. '...and he's gagged...'

'And what's that on his cock ?' Carol interrupts enlarging the image.

'It's a cage, I keep him in it most of the time.' Amelia is enjoying herself, clearly happy to share her kinky secrets with a crowd of strangers. 'I let him get stiff once a month...'

I can see some of the men in the crowd shaking their heads but overall the audience are enjoying this bizarre voyeurism.

'I like his balls to be throbbing when I use him, big and swollen...' She cups her hand as if she is holding them. 'We're trying to have a child so I have to keep him stimulated and stop him wasting anything...'

She smirks and the crowd laugh and break into applause.

'I bet he'll be glad to see you tonight.' Carol nudges her.

'Oh.' Amelia pulls at the microphone again. 'I won't be seeing him tonight. He's in Cardiff and I'm staying with Jackie in Gateshead.'

The crowd gasp and even Carol looks shocked.

'Well Amelia, you're clearly a bit of an expert when it comes to bondage. Do you think you can restrain Sugi here ?'

'Piece of cake.' Amelia is brilliantly cocky.

Sandy and Marla bring Sugi forward and pull her so that her back is against one of the poles. It thick and heavy like a telegraph pole and about eight feet high. Harpreet hands Amelia a coil of rope which she begins to unwrap with practiced ease, passing one end to Jackie. Then she stands behind Sugi and begins with her elbows, looping a turn of rope around them and pulling them as close together as she can. She then takes a turn round one of Sugi's wrists and pulls it in front of the contortionists body, linking to the other wrist and ensuring the knots are tight and away from Sugi's fingers.

Carol nods her approval. 'You look pretty confident there, Amelia.'

'That I am.' Amelia is a born showman.

'Can I interest you in a little wager ?'

'Go on then.' Amelia threads the rope between Sugi's legs and the rubber-clad freak squirms somewhat theatrically.

'If Sugi gets out, she gets to tie you up for the remainder of the show.'

'Sounds fair.' Ameila flashes a smile.

Amelia passes the rope to Jackie who wraps it around the pole and pulls it tight, pinning Sugi's rubber covered butt against the wood. She takes it up around the girl's bound elbows.

'And you, Jackie ?'

'I'm game.' Jackie passes the rope back though Sugi's legs and Amelia ties it off on her wrist.

'Careful, we hardly know each other.' Sugi pouts as the crotch rope tightens. She hardly ever removes the catsuit which covers extensive burns she suffered as a child but it has the necessary orifices which allow her to feel the rub of the rope though they are not as overt as those in the Gimp's suit. When I first met her, Sugi was in enforced chastity and I still use this to keep her under control. I also use the chastity belt as a reward sometimes, fitted with appropriate attachments, and that involves access to her orifices.

With Sugi's arms secured, Amelia begins to bind her chest to the pole crossing ropes over her chest between her small breasts then Jackie crouches down and begins to work on Sugi's legs, wrapping rope around her thighs and then knees and ankles. When they are finished, Sugi is tightly bound to the pole.

'How did they do Sugi ?' Carol asks, holding the mic to the girl's mouth.

Sugi squirms a little and shrugs as much as she is able. 'Not bad.'

They must have done a pretty good job as it takes Sugi nearly two minutes to escape. Both the girls look surprised, though they applaud, Amelia somewhat half-heartedly.

'So ladies, about that bet...' Carol reminds them.

'I'm up for it ?' Jackie pushes herself forward. 'Come on Millie.'

Carol pushes Jackie against the pole to which Sugi was bound while Sandy and Marla lead a reluctant Amelia towards the other one.

Both girls seem willing to take their medicine and stand obediently with their backs to the poles while their hands are pulled above their heads and locked into steel shackles that hang from them. Sandy has to hop onto Marla's shoulders to accomplish this. There are shackles for their ankles too.

'We have rule here that, if you can escape by the end of the show, we'll give you a free ticket to the next one.' Carol tells them with a smile though it is something that has never happened.

The pair struggle briefly but soon realise how helpless the are.

'How does it feel ?' Carol points the mic at Jackie.

'Actually, it's quite nice.' The brunette tells her. 'I wish my boyfriend was here to see me.'

'And what about you, Amelia ?'

Amelia struggles. 'I'd forgotten how much fun it was. If only my Chris was here too.'

'You really want your husband to see this ?' Carol tucks the mic under her arm and deftly undoes the straps of Amelia's bra, allowing her breasts to spill into full view.

Amelia looks down and grins. 'Maybe not, I do have an image to maintain.' She shakes her chest and her large tits bounce brilliantly.

The crowd cheer her.

'You've both been great sports' Carol turns to the crowd. 'A hand for Amelia and Jackie.'

The crowd applaud and cheer.

'Enjoy the rest of the show.' Carol tweaks one of Amelia's nipples and then saunters over to me to hand back the mic and lead Tania off to prepare for her act.

Daria is on next, our 'ariel artiste' and she drives on in my chariot this time to much applause, trotting Willow round the ring. She's a pert little thing with bleach-blonde hair and a ripped body. She likes to perform naked, aside from the five steel bands that encircle her wrists, ankles neck.

As a child Daria was a gymnast in Russia but was never quite good enough to make the national squad so, on her eighteenth birthday, her father and coach essentially sold by her to a passing circus where she performed her gymnastics and learned to be magnificent on the flying trapeze; she also performed the role of sex-slave to the ring master who had her fitted with the bands to keep her chained up after she tried to run away. When he wasn't using her himself he rented her out as a whore.

Madam Tania acquired her when the two troupes met on the road and gave her to Kara and Kana as a pet. The rest, as they say, is history and it wasn't long before wily little Daria was domming it over the twins.

As a result of her experiences, she's quite a cruel mistress; the little acrobats suffer regular whippings both for undesirable behaviour and substandard performances. Their performance in the ring is usually pretty near perfect but Daria usually spots some lapse which gives her the pretext to punish them; she punishes them for poor performance in the bedroom too and, in that, she's far more demanding. It's not unusual to find Kara and Kana staked out for the night after a failed attempt to please their adored mistress; such punishments usually end with a dawn exercise session where the acrobats are virtually dragged round the field by their clit or nipple rings while confined in helpless bondage that forces them to squirm behind the diminutive Russian dominant for fear of their intimate rings being torn out. After this treatment, they end up filthy, their skins caked in mud and smeared with grass stains.

If she's in a really bad mood, Daria makes the pair lick each other clean.

I suppose if your life depends on your slaves catching you at a crucial moment, it's necessary to ensure they are well disciplined.

Daria brings Willow to a halt beside Kara and Kana who still stand harnessed to Harpreet's wagon. They've been standing on display since they brought Sugi on and are clearly restless, however their mistress ignores them, deliberately tormenting them by leaping from the chariot and playing extremely intimately with the lovely redhead pony. Willow, as always, responds beautifully to this attention, tossing her head and swishing her tail then nuzzling the little acrobat seeking even more intimate caresses.

'Daria, will you please put that little tart down...' I tell her. '...you have no idea where she's been.'

'Oh, I haf a preety goot idea.' She tells me in her deliciously sexy accent before leaning in to lick Willow's left breast.

'Daria...' I persevere on behalf of our audience. 'Don't you have a job to do ?'

I point up at the platform above.

'Ooooo...' She pouts. ''You are zo mean to poor Daria.'

She slaps Willow on the bottom and runs nimbly towards the rope ladder.

On cue, I see Sandy rush past me and take Willow's reins, shaking them and driving the startled pony into motion. The crowd always love to see the little redhead in action and can't help but cheer, especially when Sandy starts to clown in the chariot, flipping up onto her hands and then dropping on and off the platform of the chariot.

Harpreet shouts angrily and, leaping down from his wagon begins to chase Sandy with an extremely agitated waddle. They complete two full laps of the ring, Sandy looking back at Harpreet and making a variety of rude gestures beginning with poking out her tongue and ending by dropping her briefs and shaking her bottom at him while giving him the finger.

'Ladies and Gentlemen, please give Harpreet some encouragement to catch our naughty dwarf...'

The crowd cheer and Harpreet begins to gain ground but on the third lap, he appears to be tiring even though he has only been running, albeit with short legs, while Willow has been pulling the chariot in harness even if Sandy doesn't weigh that much. Harpreet thus leaps into the wagon and, picking up the whip sets Kara and Kana running in pursuit.

The crowd cheer with excitement and the PA system plays the Indiana Jones theme as the fresh ponies soon gain ground on naughty Sandy and her tiring pony and when they draw level Harpreet leaps across from his wagon to Sandy's in a scene reminiscent of a good old fashioned action movie. He wrestles momentarily with Sandy and then puts her over his knee to administer a good spanking as Willow heaves the chariot out of the ring with Kara and Kata running beside her.

Harpreet runs on a few moments later with Sandy over his shoulder, her hands cuffed behind her back and the crowd cheer though it is really the ponies who have done most of the work. I know that the three girls are too busy getting their breath back to enjoy a curtain call.

Daria is now in position and I introduce her formally to the crowd as the spotlights pick her out on her high platform. She sometimes does her trapeze act with Kara and Kana but tonight she is flying solo, literally as she leaps, tumbling and summersaulting high above the ring in a very kinky workout that is not unlike a routine on several sets of parallel bars and some gymnastic rings; all without the aid of a safety net.

As she gracefully descends to cheers from the crowd, the Clown March starts to play and Sandy comes on, tugs at my sleeve to attract my attention, cupping a hand over her mouth as I lean down.

I smile and straighten, nodding.

'It has come to my attention...' I tell the audience, 'that our Gimp is indeed in need of repairs after her last abuse.'

There is some laughter and the Gimp is brought on in her frame, Sandy and Marla wheeling her in. The frame is now tilted so the girl hangs face down. The dwarves are dressed in boiler suits, open to the waist to reveal their sparkling bikini tops. Harpreet follows with a rack carrying a variety of tools most with a sexual connotation and a sign saying 'Gimp Garage: Repairs and MoTs.'

The girls position the Gimp near Jackie and Amelia, still chained to their poles and, while Marla helps Harpreet jack her up into position so the girls can work on her, Sandy wanders over to Amelia and gropes her breasts.

The Gimp is now hanging in her frame face down at about my chest height but just the right level for the dwarves to abuse from beneath. They duck beneath her and spend some time pointing, prodding, poking and tweaking. As they abuse the girl, Harpreet plays various comedy sound effects: horns when her breasts are squeezed and a whistle as Sandy pulls on a rubber glove and examines her pussy; there is much shaking of heads as the poor blonde's nipples are tweaked and her pussy probed and sniffed. The crowd laugh enjoying the ridiculous and utterly unnecessary abuse. Finally, Sandy comes out and crosses to the rack where she takes down a set of mole-grips; there seems little doubt where these will be applied and, sure enough with a nasty ratcheting sound effect they are soon clamped around one of the helpless girl's nipples. The blonde struggles, gurgling into her gag, as Sandy pulls and twists and finally enlists Marla's help to complete whatever adjustment she is trying to make to the poor girl's nipple. Eventually, she seems happy and the grips removed so that the other side can be adjusted. The poor gimp bucks violently in her frame but soon exhausts herself or, perhaps, realises this simply worsens the pain in her nipple.

'I think our trained mechanics will now do a little lubrication.'

With the first set of adjustments made the two mechanics position themselves beneath the girl's spread legs. Marla picks up a large can marked 'Oil'. It has a spout and this is pushed into the helpless girl's bottom. I can hear the gimp whimper and gurgle, saliva dripping from her gag as the contents of the can are forced inside her. She struggles again weakly but again, can't keep it ip for long.

'We'll need to jump-start her.'

The mechanics then use a pair of oversized pliers to separate the blonde's labia, stretching them apart and then, while Marla holds them, Sandy pushes a huge phallus on a stick into the gaping pussy leaving it at full stretch. The girl whimpers into her gag

The phallus locks onto the stocks holding the girl's ankles. It is fitted with a motor that turns it into a a fucking machine.

'Time for a test.' I tell the audience.

Marla picks up a vibrator and holds it to the girl's pussy. She turns it on and holds it in place. It doesn't take long for the gimp to start squirming; she's been doped up with amber during the interval and she must be horny as hell. Marla continues to tease her until the gimp is panting loudly and groaning.

Marla turns the vibrator off and the blonde screams in frustration, saliva spraying out of her gagged mouth.

Sandy gives me the thumbs up.

'Looks like we're ready to start her up, Ladies and Gentlemen.'

The dwarves tip the frame bringing the gimp upright; she hangs there on display, spread and impaled on the phallus. We all watch as a set of jump leads are attached to the girl's much abused nipples; the poor gimp screams, her rubber encased head thrashing from side to side as the metal teeth bite into her flesh. The wires from these run to a battery.

The girl can have no idea what is about to happen to her but she has clearly had enough and shakes her head frantically, pleading pathetically though her gag and spraying saliva over Marla. Marla wipes away the spittle and takes a big dildo from the rack which she stuffs into the girl's mouth through the ring gag, wiping her hands in a 'job well done' action. The girl shakes her head violently clearly trying to dislodge the phallus but it is huge and jammed in the gag and she can't move it.

Marla gives her another burst of the vibrator to distract her and the sexual stimulation is enough to make her grind her hips against Marla's touch.

'I'd say she's ready to go.'

Sandy nods and switches on the fucking machine. We all watch as the phallus slides down demonstrating how deeply it has entered her and then back up, apparently forcing the girl to strain and arch to take it all the way inside her. The process repeats two three times and the effect quickly becomes hypnotising, the girl's helpless body moving, writhing in time to the machine that is gently fucking her. The crowd begin to chant in time to the rhythm, the volume of their shouts increasing as the girl nears orgasm and soon, she is moaning loudly too, head turning from side to side. It is clear her orgasm is approaching and that she wants it badly, perhaps thinking that, aside from the bliss it will bring, it may bring an end to this treatment.

Everyone except her knows that Harpreet is standing over the 'battery' connected by wires to her nipples and that the dwarf is about to throw the switch.

When the shock hits her nipples, she screams.

The crowd cry out in sympathy.

The phallus continues to move in and out of her but the shock has pulled back from the point of climax and it takes several minutes to bring the girl back to the brink of orgasm again.

The crowd build to climax with her but on the verge of orgasm, she is shocked again.

The blonde howls in pain and frustration as the cycle starts again.

I've seen a few gimps, real pain sluts cum when the shock hits; the crowd like it but it's not as much fun as when it's just enough to put them off.

After three cycles, it is clear that the girl isn't going to be able to cum if Harpreet continues to shock her nipples so the next time she reaches the peak he lets her go over the top which she does loudly dislodging the phallus from her mouth to the delight of the crowd who applaud and stamp their feet in appreciation as the exhausted girl hangs before them, sobbing in her bonds.

While the gimp is recovering, Marla takes the vibrator over to Jackie and Amelia. Both still appearing excited by their bondage and the spectacle they have just witnessed. Jackie, in particular is rubbing her thighs together but both girl's their eyes shine with excitement and arousal and, when Marla hold the vibrator out towards them, both call out to her and struggle in their bonds, begging her for it to be used on them.

Marla makes a point of studying the girls, deciding which one to choose and they both posture and pout, offering sexual favours in return. Marla experimentally presses the vibrator to the end of Jackie's chastity rod and the helpless girl is soon pushing her hips forward and squirming with pleasure much to the delight of the crowd. It is clear the sub will reach orgasm easily despite her boyfriend's attempts to prevent it and, after a minute or two, Marla shakes her head. Jackie howls with frustration as the dwarf moves on to Amelia, pushing the vibrator up the girl's leather skirt and reaching up to tweak her exposed nipples as the blonde begins to moan with pleasure. Soon Amelia is crying out, trying to hump the teasing sex toy with the crowd cheering her on; however, a moment later, she too is howling in frustration.

Bringing either of these two sluts to orgasm will please the crowd and, judging by this audience's responses, depriving them both will probably be please them.

It takes a while but I finally manage to quieten the crowd so I can ask them which one should be given an orgasm and I'm hit by a wall of sound.

I stroll over to Marla and the two flushed girls and appeal for quiet again.

The audience calm in response and I ask Amelia why she should get it, holding the mic up so everyone can hear her answer.

As before, she has no qualms about telling the whole tent about her sexual skills.

'I know how to reward a good boy.' She tells me lewdly with a wink. Her voice really is a pleasure on the ear. 'And I'm very good at it.' She looks suggestively down at my crotch and pushes her bare tits towards me as much as her bonds allow.

'Well, Ameila, that's very persuasive.' I reach out and play with one of her big pink nipples which responds instantly to my touch. 'I can tell you're a passionate woman.'

She growls theatrically in her throat like a caged beast.

I swing away and confront Jackie.

'Well, Jackie.' I tug at the padlock of her chastity bar. 'I'm guessing you're not getting much at the moment...or is this just for tonight ?'

'I've been denied for sixteen days now.' She squirms in frustration, her face clearly flushed from the teasing she has received from Marla.. 'So if you choose me, I'll do pretty much anything.'

She shakes her hips and the padlock of her chastity bar swings.

'It looks to me that quite a lot of what you can offer is locked safely out of reach.'

Jackie glances at her friend. 'I give head better than she does.'

She says it with a slight smile but Amelia doesn't notice.

'But you can fuck me any way you choose.' The blonde shouts back.

The crowd cheer.

'Bitch !' Jackie glares at her as the shouts die down. Then she looks back at me and licks her lips. 'I really am very good and I'm always happy to go down, Sir.'

I like the submissive way she says it and can't help thinking of some the ways I used to play with Carol. Carol really was a girl who could go down.

'I'm sure you are both very deserving, ladies.' I lace the last word with sarcasm. 'I think you should both have a little excitement.' I look at Jackie. 'But, I'm sorry to say, Amelia is right. You have a lot less to offer.'

'Let me down on my knees and I'll show you.' Jackie shouts.

I look at Amelia. 'And Amelia...or is that Mistress Amelia ?' She certainly doesn't look very dominant at the moment. 'Are you ready to go down ?'

She hesitates for a moment but this is her fifteen minutes of fame and she is too caught up in the occasion to back out.

'I'll go down on anyone.' She says glancing in triumph at Jackie. 'And I'll lick anything you tell me to.'

'Ladies and Gentlemen.' I address the crowd. 'I think we should take our guests up on this challenge.'

The audience howl their approval and Sugi and Carol come on both with short whips dangling from their wrists. They are accompanied by Daria who leads Kara and Kana by rope leashes tied to their clit rings. The twins are out of their harnesses but both restrained in single sleeves.

The poles to which the girls are tied are held up by pins and Sugi and Carol crouch down at Jackie's feet and pull out the pin then gently lower it backwards so Jackie finds herself lying in the pole. From where I'm standing, I can see the thick metal chastity bar wedged between the brunette's plump pink labia like a bit; it looks like it has a butt plug attached to it. I moment later, Amelia joins her. The 'dominant' isn't wearing knickers and her pierced labia gape.

I can see the two girls figuring out the challenge and can't help feeling Ameila appears rather disappointed as Kara and Kana are positioned astride the two girls.

'The rules are simple.' I tell our contestants and the crowd. 'Whoever makes their twin come first gets the vibrator. The loser will suck off Harpreet.'

I see Amelia look at the dwarf who is just disappearing from the ring with the unfortunate gimp still locked in her frame.

Kara and Kana squat so their pussies are over the girl's mouths.

Jackie lifts her head, tongue extended, eager to begin but Carol bring her whip down on the girl's thigh and tells to her wait. I divide the crowd, half to cheer Jackie lead by Carol and half to support Amelia lead by Sugi.

'Is everybody ready ?' I ask. There are nods of assent.

'Marks...get set...go !'

The pussy munching begins, both girls lifting their heads and lapping furiously with their tongues; for a moment I hear the twin's clit bells jingle and then they are drowned out by the noise of the crowd cheering the two girls on excitedly. Carol and Sugi do their usual superb job of drawing the crowd in and encouraging the contestants with liberal use of their whips. The girls also use their whips to ensure Kara and Kana stay in position, laying into the twin's breasts with almost as much enthusiasm as Daria usually does.

The process takes several minutes during which time Sandy comes back on carrying another vibrator and a dildo and she and Marla proceed to juggle the sex toys.

It is, in the end, Kara who cums first, howling and squirting copiously into Jackie's face.

I declare the winner and Marla waddles over the give her the reward she has earned, using two of the vibrators. Sadly for Jackie she won't get the benefit of the dildo.

Amelia, on the other hand, is about to suffer the ignominy of defeat and Harpreet comes on ready to claim his prize. He takes Kana's place over Jackie's mouth and pulls out a cock which, for his size is not small in any way.

'Fuck me !' Amelia is surprised.

'Only if you're a good girl.' Harpreet tells her with a smile.

'I'll be good.' The blonde lifts her head and takes the dwarf's cock into her mouth, sucking furiously.

From Harpreet's expression, I get the impression that Amelia is as good as she claimed and, when the dwarf cums, I'm amused to see she swallows diligently. The dwarf is clearly satisfied and, buoyed up by the amber changes ends to give her the fucking she has asked for. Harpreet is good, so Carol once told me, and he brings Amelia to a loud climax in which she screams with pleasure and jerks violently against her chains.

Jackie climaxes under the stimulation of Marla's vibrator shortly afterwards and almost as loudly. Her orgasm goes on for a surprisingly long time leading me to believe that her claim to have been kept in chastity for some time might well be true.

I struggle to recall what it felt like to go over two weeks without sex. Twelve hours is a long time for me.

With both girls satisfied and the posts to which they are chained lifted back up again, it is time for Tania's act and, with Summer hors de combat, we are short of an assistant. I'm hoping Carol or Willow might step in but Carol is probably helping to harness Kara and Kana and Willow is almost certainly harnessed and bridled herself ready for the finale. Sandy comes on leading the gimp with Marla following. Harpreet is behind them carrying a steel pole topped with a large phallus. The gimp's arms are back in the single sleeve. From the way she staggers, I guess the poor girl is utterly exhausted by her ordeal. However, she can do nothing other than follow where Sandy leads and Marla drives her. She has acquired a number of whip marks on her breasts and buttocks that weren't there when she left the ring after her last appearance. She also has clothes pegs on her nipples ready for her part in the act.

I introduce 'Madam Tania' as she struts on to 'Devil Woman' and extol the virtues of her skill with the whip trying not to be drawn in by her shiny black leather boots complete with matching bustier and knickers. She is no longer my strapped bitch pet but a formidable woman, walking with total confidence, unrecognisable, shoulders pulled back and her magnificent chest thrust out. I can easily remember why I used to enjoy worshipping her and I guess there's a whole section of the audience who would willingly throw themselves at her feet.

The rest of the audience are probably looking at the gimp being impaled on the dildo to keep her still for Madam Tania.

Madam Tania casts off her cloak and cracks the whip in a deliciously dominant display that is somewhere between martial arts form and erotic dance and suppress the urge to drop to my knees. Once she's warmed up, it takes her only a moment for her to knock the clothes pegs off the gimp's nipples and then she gestures for me to pick them up.

Before I know it, I'm doing exactly that.

This is what Summer usually does.

Fuck !

Angry with myself for bending to her will, I clip the pegs none too gently back on the gimp's rather bruised looking nipples hearing the poor girl squeak loudly as I do so.

Madam Tania knocks them off and looks at me defiantly.

There is nobody else so I have to pick them up again.

I put one of the pegs on the girl's clit this time and Madam Tania removes it.

I put the second in its place and, even as I am removing my hand, the whip slashes down and takes the peg off. I feel the air move as the leather flashes past my hand and then a spray of saliva as the gimp screams in pain.

I turn to find Madam Tania smiling at me triumphantly and I know what it coming.

She pulls a cigar out of her cleavage and puts it in her mouth. It's only a stub, it has been used in the act a dozen times already. I can only watch as she puts it in her mouth and asks me for a light.

There is a lighter in my pocket, this is my job.

Holding the cigar is Summer's role but Summer is not here.

I light the cigar and Madam Tania takes a long hard drag before blowing out the smoke into my face; then she takes it from her mouth and holds it out to me.

I have little option but to take it and put it in between my lips. I take a drag and the smoke fills my lungs calming me slightly; I can taste Tania's lipstick and Summer's breath within it.

I'm not frightened of what is coming next, Tania is a very capable performer; I just hate having to perform for my pet.

I glare at her and stand ready.

The whip strikes and, again, I feel the whoosh of air created by the whip as the cigar explodes out of my mouth.

Madam Tania retrieves it this time, watching me intensely with her dark eyes as she crouches in a creak of leather, squatting on her heels, thighs spread.

She stands and draws on the stub again to rekindle it before passing it to me.

There is barely any left but I put it between my teeth.

'Hold still.' She whispers stepping away from me.

The whip flashes past me again and my lip smarts and the cigar is again dislodged.

Then Madam Tania is back into her routine as she dances and cracks the whip as if she is squaring up to me. The music changes to a tango and suddenly she has drawn me in, the whip around my throat. I've danced this part before as the Gimp and the Sissy and I know the steps, know that in the act the woman, Summer these days, is driven back and cast off at the end, thrown down to gaze up at the magnificent woman with the whip. When I was the Gimp I used to crawl forward and lick Madam Tania's boots before she clipped a leash to my collar and lead me off, crawling beside her on all fours.

We reach the end and I step back but I am not going to let her throw me down.

The whip cuts my cheek.

It is a striking finish and the crowd love the drama of it but, even as they applaud loudly I stand glaring at Tania aware of the blood trickling down my face.

The stand-off is broken as the Clown March plays and Sandy waddles on to rescue the gimp. As the blonde is released her from the phallus she collapses to her knees and Sandy allows her to crawl out of the ring.

I look up realising the crowd have gone quiet.

'Madam Tania !' I shout gesturing triumphantly and, after a moment, there is slightly subdued round of applause.

The show must go on and I break into my usual patter.

'Ladies and Gentlemen, you've been a wonderful audience and I like to thank you for coming to share our performance tonight.'

I walk across to Jackie and Amelia.

'There are a couple of performers I'd particularly like to thank.'

The crowd show their appreciation.

'And, if they're very good girls...' I tease Amelia's nipple again. 'I might even set them free later. After all, we must remember poor Chris in Cardiff.'

A Viennese waltz starts to come out of the PA and Carol rides on astride one of her horses; the gimp staggers beside her and it is obvious Carol is half dragging her on a tight leash, holding her against the flank of the horse to keep her one her feet. She's followed by Daria driving Kara and Kana back in full show harnesses with plumes, the bits firmly between their teeth, trotting magnificently, knees rising in union, nipples bells jingling. Sugi comes next driving Willow, sleek and beautiful and then Harpreet with Sandy and Marla in harness.

They always get a cheer.

It is not unusual for Carlo to miss the finale.

Tania follows at the rear, hand raised taking in the adulation of the crowd as the music changes to Queen's 'We are the Champions'.

They circle the ring three times and, on the final lap, there is a reprise of 'Hotel California.'

The crowd are already beginning to file out.

I am angry and I grab Tania by the shoulder the instant were out of the ring, spinning her round.

'That was fucking careless.' I shout at her. 'You could have had my eye out.'

'I could have.' She glares at me, defiant. 'But I didn't want to.'

'I should fucking beat you.'

'Like you did with Summer ?' She spits the words at me.

'You mistreated her.' I snarl back, remembering my first meeting the Tattooed Lady when Tania kept her caged and beat her regularly and barely fed her, making her live off little more than cum; a lot of it mine.

'Yes, I did...' Tania glares are me.

'Curtain call, Boss ?' Harpreet asks.

'No !' Tania and I both round on him.

It is our last night and I sense the performers' looks of disappointment, feel their resentment.

'I'll deal with you later.' I hiss at Tania and go out into the night.

The punters are leaving and for the first time in a very long time I feel a yearning to with them. In the ring, someone will be unchaining Amelia and Jackie and they will go home to their partners and, tomorrow we will move on to another town and another and, somewhere along the way, someone, probably Willow, will secure more votes and I'll be back to being the gimp or maybe left by the road.

I mind that less than the thought that, this time, it's unlikely will have Carol in my cage.

I pull a cigarette and my lighter from my pocket and smoke and try to calm my thoughts even as I run my hands through my hair and pace.

It's not been a good evening...the choice of gimp...Summer...Tania.

I pace, smoking one cigarette after another but, after some time, I do feel calmer and go to my tent. I know the gimp will be there, I always get first dibs and, useless slut that she's been, she'll be warm and I'll be able to fuck her. I feel my black mood pass at the thought of pink rubber-clad body. I'll need the amber to keep me at it tonight.

I lift the flap and light the lamp but my tent is empty, Harpreet hasn't even put Tania back in her cage.

The bourbon bottle is still on the table along with the two glasses, and I can see the blonde's red lipstick on the one she drank from before we turned her into the gimp.

This one will definitely end up naked in the field in the morning.

I fill my empty glass and take a swallow, the warmth of it flooding me.

'Fuck !' I kick over one of the chairs.

There is anger...rage building inside me just like it did at the interval and at the end of the second half; it's not anger at Summer's drunkenness or Tania's carelessness or the useless gimp.

I sit in my leather camp chair and feel my cheek. The blood has dried but it is throbbing and warm.

I take a long swallow of bourbon from the bottle and fill my glass.

Harpreet will come soon, probably bringing the gimp and Tania and I will enjoy fucking the useless bitch in front of Madam Tania and then hold a cigarette to my brunette pet's nipple rings until she screams.

I drink quickly, too quickly and when bourbon is nearly gone I am still alone.

I feel hot, flushed, and I throw off my red coat, angry again, and go out to see what is happening, my movements demonstrating to me how much I have drunk.

Without my coat, I notice the chill and, when I crouch down to run my fingers through the grass, I find it already wet with dew. It is, I recall, late September in the outside world where times and season's matter; not that season's don't matter here, we will be in for another miserable cold winter with few punters and a lot of days spent huddling round stoves in our tents. There will be a lot of fucking too, of course, and much amber will be used to keep our stamina up. Winter is also a time for revamping the show, changing the acts, developing new ones.

A time of change.

Ahead of me, someone has dragged a bench from the mess tent out into one of the aisles between the tents and there is a figure lying on it. When I get closer I can see it is Carol, still dressed in her red and black PVC bodice; she is tied in place, her arms down beneath her shoulders bound to the legs of the bench at one end and her legs spread, ankles bound to the legs at the other end.

Whoever has tied her here has taken the liberty of removing her black knickers.

As I approach she turns her head towards me and I can see that she's blindfolded, one of those rubber ones that moulds to the face with a loop that goes below the nose it can't be pushed off.

I smile, she is very appealing like that, utterly helpless and nostalgia threatens to engulf me.

I can't remember the last time I fucked her and I feel my cock stiffen despite the alcohol.

She is mine, the circus is mine.

For the moment.

I trace my fingers along her thigh brushing them against her suspenders, remembering how I used to long to do this when I was younger when all this would have been a fantasy beyond my wildest dreams; I would imagine a girl dressed for my pleasure, a girl who would let me tie and tease her gently, allow me free reign over her body. I used to love the idea of women in stockings, I can still recall the erection I got when my older cousin brushed against me at a family wedding and I realised she had stockings on.

'Hello, Jonny.' Carol smiles up at me.

'How did you know ?'

'I'd recognise those fingers anywhere.'

'Really ?'

'No.' She gives a little giggle. It's the smell of paraffin that gives you away.' The turns her head. 'Though you do have a thing for suspenders.'

I laugh and sit down on the end of the bench between Carol's spread legs.

'Have you been a naughty girl ?' I continue to play with the suspenders though her naked crotch is barely inches from my hand, her pussy open.

My cock is rigid.

'No more than usual.' There is humour in her voice. 'Got anything to drink ?'

I lean forward and pour bourbon into her mouth.

'Thanks.' She swallows. 'It's fucking cold out here.'

I lie down with my head on her belly, wrapping my arms around her.

'That's not helping much.' She tells me.

I slide along the bench, draping myself over her.

The bench wobbles.

'Your balance is bloody useless !' She tried to teach me to ride once.

'I make up for it in other ways.' I can't resist rubbing my face on her chest then my lips pressing against her skin. It is cool and still slick with grease paint.

I slide up further and kiss her neck.

'That's nice.' She nuzzles her cheek against mine.

'Where is everyone ?' I have to ask.

'Willow's tent.' She gestures with her head, a bound blind woman showing me to a place I already know.

'How come you're not with them ?'

'I seem to have pissed Carlo off.'

'I noticed you'd been sleeping rough.' I recall her lying behind the knife-thrower's wagon. 'What happened ?'

'I told him he had a small cock.'

I laugh.

'He can be almost as pompous as you sometimes.'

I still, stung by her words. 'Oh !'

'I'd better join the others.' I lever myself up and the bench wobbles more. I stick out my leg to stabilise it and look down at the smooth, sheer PVC of her bodice where it covers her small, pert breasts. I can't resist tracing my fingers along the line of her skin against the seam of the bodice.

'Actually, I do know your touch.' She squirms beneath me lifting her hips.

I start to climb off her and the bench wobbles dangerously.

'Please.' She squirms on the bench lifting her hips

'You want me to untie you ?'

She laughs. 'Oh, Jonny !' She shakes her head. 'You can be so dim sometimes. I want you to fuck me'

We haven't fucked in a long time and seeing her there in the bench, hearing her ask me to do it reminds me how much I used to care about her; of our first night together, caged and bound and how we fucked until the sun came up and Madam Tania came and harnessed us to the wagons.

And how we fucked every night after that for months.

My cock feels like the pole of the big top.

I move my hand down to her inner thigh and she moans gently, biting her lower lip. I touch her pussy with my fingers and find it wet.

'Oh, that's good.' She squirms gently.

It was her who taught me how to please a woman.

Summer taught me a lot too. I learned from the others but to them I was just the Gimp, a fuck-toy to be abused and when I didn't perform they punished me.

I bend and run my tongue over her pussy. I smell sweat and her scent, she really needs a shower but then, we live in tents in a field.

'That's good too; though I want your cock in there at some point.' She squirms. 'Not just your tongue.'

'I might have to get some amber if you're wanting an all-nighter.'

'Don't I do it for you anymore ?' Her voice has a slightly sad tone. 'What does a girl have to do to get your attention these days ? Isn't getting herself strapped to a bench in PVC playwear and stockings enough ?'

I think about the first time I saw her in the red dress by the booth where Sugi was on display.

'You're perfect.'

'Oh ?!' She sounds as confused to hear it as I am to realise I've said it.

I open my flies and clamber onto the bench and feel it wobble beneath me.

'You really have got no sense of balance.' She wriggles beneath me.

'Thanks.' I lay on top of her and kiss her.

She grimaces. 'How much bourbon have you drunk tonight ?'

'Probably a little too much.' I laugh, being with Carol has lifted my spirits and sliding my cock inside her propels them skywards .

They are all there in Willow's tent; Kara and Kana are entertaining Daria; which is to say that she sits on a stool kissing Kara who kneels beside her and gently playing with her nipple bells while Kana kneels between her mistress' legs diligently munching pussy; both acrobats are still restrained in single sleeves and Kana wears a chastity belt; she has stripes across her bottom from a recent whipping too. Carlo sits on a crate with his metal tankard in his hands, he is hunched forward, apparently brooding; Sugi sits upright on the floor, back straight, legs crossed; Tania leans back against a tent pole with Summer lying against her, enfolded in her arms; the Tattooed Lady's cheek is swollen and bruised and I can see the thick make up she wears smeared across her face where she has been crying; Harpreet sits cross legged with Marla's head in his lap while Sandy sits reclined against the Gimp who lies on her side, still, restrained, hooded and gagged in the rubber suit, the dwarf is nestled between the girl's huge breasts and her thighs so the rubber clad girl is curled around her like a bizarre fetish chair; and then there is Willow, as usual naked save her thigh boots, seated in Carlos' leather camp chair like a fairy queen holding court over her kingdom of the dispossessed.

They fall silent as I come in and, though the usual warmth of bodies in the tent rolls over me it somehow chills me. I immediately wish I was still on the bench with Carol and resolve just to drink one cup with them then go back and take her to my tent.

I need to talk to her, tell her how I miss her, ask her...beg her if I must to take me back.

'Ringmaster.' Willow unfolds her booted legs, rising just a little too slowly to offer me the chair.

I watch her pick up a bottle of bourbon, pour it into a tin mug and offer it to me.

I sit awkwardly in the chair and Willow drops to her knees beside Carlo resting her hand on his thigh. The conversation flickers back to life but it is stilted and dies again several times before finally catching though it continues in hushed tones. To my right Daria gives a sip of liquor to Kara and another to Kana then plays with their nipple bells; Harpreet strokes Marla's hair; across from me Sandy idly kneads the Gimp's huge breasts; I try not to look to my left where I know Tania gently caresses Summer's body while her brown eyes bore into me.

I rub my cheek and take a sip of bourbon and then another. I need to drink it; at least the one cup, it is expected, we always drink after a run then we will strike camp and move on leaving as the sun rises to seek out pastures new.

I come to lying by a hedge at the side of the road and sit up shielding my eyes from the bright sunlight.

It is cold and I shiver, my head is pounding as I struggle to my feet

I am dressed in my coat, the long leather one, not the red one; I'm wearing the cargo pants with the knees torn out and my old boots; not my white leather breeches and shiny black boots.

The coat hangs open and I draw it about me.

I have been cast out and, for some reason my only real fear is that I will never see Carol again, never tell her the mistake I made in trying to think I could live without her. Gripped by a fear I have not felt for over ten years I look frantically around me, up and down the road which is long and straight, running along a hillside parallel to some sort of ridge, there are fields below me in which I can see sheep and above me rougher pastures graduating into scree and then hard rock. In the distance is the sea, a straight sparkling ribbon shining so brightly it hurts my eyes to look at it.

The road seems deserted but there is a farm in the valley, smoke rising from the chimney.

I put my hands in my pockets, horrified, alone, frightened and cast round for some clue resolving to follow the circus. I could catch them up; there are human ponies in harness pulling the wagons; how hard could they be to follow, to find ?

I shiver again, feeling in the pockets. In the left hand one, I find a coil of leather, Tania's leash; in the right I can feel screwed up pieces of paper and when I pull them out I find three twenty pound notes, the money I paid Madam Tania so Carol and I could enter the House of Pain all those years ago.

Nobody ever leaves the circus.

No, that is not true, the circus never leave you, it is forever inside you, under your skin.

I think of all those I have cast out, left with that loneliness, that feeling of wanting to belong but being outside.

I must catch them up, they cannot do this to me. I must tell Carol what I felt last night. I have spent too long in the circus, learned too much to go back to being a loser again.

I look up and down the road again, and reason that they must have gone north, we were heading towards the border. I turn resolutely.

I have taken only a few steps when I stop catching sight of something in the corner of my vision.

I spin around.

It is Carol, sitting by the roadside leaning against a footpath sign; her arms are tied to it above her head and there is a gag in her mouth, black cloth tied there with rope, she's still wearing the PVC bodice, the stockings, the patent heels.

'They left you too ?' I am stunned but seeing her there lifts my spirits.

She looks at me and grunts into the gag so I reach down and untie the rope and pull out the black material that has been stuffed into her mouth; it is the knickers from the outfit she is wearing.

'No, I chose to leave.' She looks up at me with those big blue eyes.

'You ?' I am flabbergasted. 'But why ?'

'Why do you think ?' She looks at me with a gaze that is intense and yearning and I think she is going to cry.

'We can get back.' I start to untie her even as I look up the road thinking about what I have lost.

'If you're going to go chasing after your fantasies you may as well just leave me here.' She looks down at herself. 'I'm sure there'll be a white knight on a charger along to rescue me in a few minutes.'

I look at her and then at the road; the circus is inside me, in my blood, the place that has satisfied my darkest desires, the place I met Carol... I remember that night in front of the booth, the yearning I felt then to be with someone like her, beautiful, caring and bloody kinky.

I must have reeked of desperation.

I could find the circus...they would take me back, I have a lifetime of debauchery to live. Carol is looking at me and I can see her lip tremble just as it did that night we met, and I remember how she clung to me as we entered the House of Pain, and how she suddenly seemed to come alive and gain confidence in its dark interior of how she beat Willow and then, locked in the pillory, screamed at me to spank her. And I remember of all the experiences we have shared together.

I finish untying her wrists and then crouch down and free her ankles; then I help her to her feet looking at her as the wind caresses her golden hair and the sun shines onto her lush body. She looks so bloody sexy in that outfit; I want her to wear it for me every day; to wear it as she takes me to her bed.

I feel an overwhelming desire to kiss her, to take her in my arms and...

'At least kiss me before you go.'

I do and it is wonderful, her lips cool on mine though her tongue is warm, she presses her body against me, her breasts against my bare chest and I feel her shiver.

I want our embrace to go on forever but she pulls away.

'Well.' She looks at me. 'I guess this is goodbye.'

Her teeth are gnawing at her lip again.

'Not a bloody chance.' I pull the leash in my pocket.

'I'm not going back.' There is an edge to her voice, that determination she has that I admire.

'Neither of us are.' I tell her fiddling awkwardly with the leash.

'Then where are we going ?'

'I'm going to start by taking you for breakfast.' I pull the notes from my pocket and show them to her. 'They say it's something you should do if it's not going to be a one-night stand.'

'And if I don't want you taking me out for breakfast ?'

There is suddenly a tightness in my chest that makes me more frightened than I've been in my life.

'You...?' My world suddenly crumbles and I realise I'm just a loser...a gimp.

'I'm just remembering what happened last time you took me somewhere.' Carol laughs and the pain goes away slightly as I catch her meaning.

'Do you regret it ?' My voice is more tense than I would like it to be and I am suddenly that young man outside the booth again when she spoke to me for the first time and I completely blew it. I know my whole world depends on her answer.

She shakes her head. 'Not one moment.' Then she takes the leash and clips it to her collar. 'Lead on McDuff !'

I look up and down the road and decide to go south. I turn away and give her leash a gentle tug but she doesn't move.

I turn back to find her frowning.

'What ?' Until today, I'd really thought I was beginning to get the hang of women.

'A gentleman would offer me his coat.' She says rather pointedly holding her chin up.

The tension that has built within me evaporates. 'Are you suggesting I'm a gentleman ?'

'No.' She smiles genuinely. 'But you're going to have to learnt to behave like one.'

'Why would I want to do that ?' I'm feeling a bit more in control. 'You're not planning to take me to one of your polo parties are you ?'

'I'm not sure they're my scene anymore.' She grins. 'Though I'd like to see the reaction if we turned up like this...but sixty quid's not going to get us very far so I'm going to have to get in touch with my parents if you're going to keep my in the submissive splendour to which I've become accomplished.'

'You're inviting me to meet your parents ?' I feel a surge of pleasure, expectation...a return of confidence. 'That's a little presumptuous isn't it.'

'Unless there's another circus passing offering lucrative contracts to a fire-eater and a hostess we're going to need somewhere to stay.'

'Oh.' I slip off my coat and give it to her, draping it around her shoulders, and enjoying the way she looks at me body.

I know that I would give her anything she asked for.

'Besides, if you want to marry me you'll have to ask my father.'

Before I can say anything, she takes my arm and we walk together into the future.