Archive-name: Bondage/circus3.txt
Archive-author: She Devil
Archive-title: Circus Story - 3


     Even if I hadn't been gagged, I'd have been speechless with
shock as I spun around to see who had crept up behind me so
quietly.  And even if I hadn't been already bound, I'd still have
been motionless with guilty terror as I crouched there, incredibly
feminine and incredibly helpless, my big pink breasts and ass
exposed to the world, and looked up into the smiling face of my gay
cousin Roderick!
     "Hello Martin," he beamed, tucking the envelope into his
pocket and pulling out a small, shiny pistol,  "Or is it Mattie
now?  I must say I like your appearance much better now.  And your
taste in clothing is positively captivating!  That is the way you
feel now, isn't it?  Captivated?  I think I'll keep you that way
from now on!"
     He sat down on the edge of the bed, still smiling at me and
casually holding the pistol.  I felt myself redden under his gaze
as his eyes swept up and down shamefully displayed femininity until
I was positively burning with embarrassment and helpless
humiliation.  Miserably unable to speak or run away, I pressed my
legs together as best I could and crossed my taped fists over my
massive titties.
     "Good idea!"  Roderick chuckled.  Then suddenly he reached
into another pocket and pulled out two pairs of handcuffs.  Before
I knew it, be had secured my left wrist to my right forearm vice
versa, so that my arms were permanently crossed in front of my
curvaceous bare chest.  I looked up at him in wonder.
     "That's just to make sure you keep still while I  tell you
what's going to happen," he explained, sitting back down.  So that
you'll know exactly what's going to become of you and our bastard
cousin and how helpless you are to prevent any of it.
     "You see.  I suspected back in New York that you were up to
something, and the way your appearance was changing (I mean you
can't hide a thing like a sex change from a judge of the male form
like me!) really piqued my curiosity.  So the day after you left.
I broke into your apartment and began looking through your
records!"
     My eyes widened in shock as he continued:
     "It was quite an interesting story I pieced together," he
said,  "What with your detectives tracing Uncle Hubert's long lost
daughter to this all female circus and you feminizing yourself to
join the show undercover, so to speak.  And I must say that the
detail about putting Uncle Hubert's detectives on a false trail so
you could have a few weeks to investigate things on your own showed
surprising intelligence -- coming from you, I mean."
     "But I've decided on a little variation of my own.  Would you
like to hear it, you gorgeous, feminine thing you?.  Of course you
would!  Well, in a few minutes, when that Molly person comes in the
door, I'm going to shoot her!  I've been practicing quite a bit, so
there shouldn't be any difficulty at all in killing her with one
shot, and her act finishes first tonight, so there won't be anyone
in the area to hear it," he twirled the gun playfully.  "Dead eye
Roderick, that's me!  But you won't be awake to appreciate my
marksmanship."
     He reached into his pockets once more with his free hand and
drew out a small hypodermic syringe!  I shivered in dread as he
went on to outline his plans for me:
     "You'll be sound asleep by that time, my Dear.  That way, you
won't give me any trouble when I untape those lovely hands of yours
(by the way, it was very considerate of you to put yourself up like
that for my benefit!  I'm thrilled to discover that you're into
bondage too, because that's just how I like my men: bound and
feminized!  But I digress, don't I?).  When I untape those lovely
hands of yours and put your fingerprints all over the gun, which
I'll leave here.
     "And you?  Well I'm going to wait until very late, then spirit
your sleeping form out to my car and off to a hospital near here
where I've arranged for Mattie Huntington to have a little plastic
surgery!  Oh, nothing major; just enough so that no one will
recognize you when I bring you back to New York and introduce you
as my bride who I picked up in Florida -- which is where everyone
thinks I am now, boating!  Don't fret so, Beautiful!  I know that
being my Terribly Submissive Wife will take some getting used to,
but since the Police will all be searching for Martin Howard for
the murder of this girl Holly, I think you'll find it much better
than the alternative!  Can you imagine life in a Southwestern
Prison?  In your condition?"
     "No, there's no sense in you moaning like that;  I'm not going
to ungag you and let you argue with me.  I've gone to too much
trouble in the surrounding area here convincing everyone that I'm
you!  It wasn't easy buying  all the forged identification and
such, but believe there is now a very convincing trail of evidence
to put you right in this spot and me a thousand,miles away.  I even
bought this gun in your name!  And oh yes, the Relatives are going
to pay a pretty penny for me removing both you and your Cousin in
one deft stroke.
     He picked up the syringe, putting his thumb on the plunger and
leaned forward.
     "Sleepy-time,  Sweetheart!" he laughed, "when you wake up,
Martin Howard will be a wanted fugitive and You will he my Bondage
Bride!  Now hold still while I slip this needle under your
breast... Uh--Wha-- ?
     Just at that moment the door opened and She Devil entered.
Roderick hesitated for an instant, the syringe poised in his hand
as he tried to figure out what to do now.
     And in that instant, I leaned forward, on top of the hand
holding the syringe, plunging it deep into his thigh and squeezing
the plunger!  He squealed, looked sharply at me, then his eyes went
soft and he collapsed with a tired moan.
     She Devil looked back and forth between us, her green eyes
flashing.
     "Just what the Hell is going on here?" she demanded.
     Ooohruuughuu!"  I gurgled through my gag.
                           * * * * * *
     It was two hours later.  She Devil and I were in her trailer,
looking at the cold inert form of my late Cousin Roderick.
     "Guess his heart just couldn't take it," She Devil said. "Too
bad for him.  And for you too, come to think of it"
     I was huddled shaking on the overstuffed chair in She Devil's
tiny living room, wrapped in a housecoat of flame colored satin
that she had thoughtfully given me after she'd untied me and we'd
carried my Cousin's body over here unseen.  I had told her
everything:  All about myself, my real sex and identity and what I
was doing here -- even my mixed motives in assuming this disguise.
I was Just too shaken up to hold anything back.
     And now I looked at her in fresh consternation.

     "Me too?" I squeaked.  "What do you mean?"

     "In case you haven't noticed, Babe," She Devil explained
coolly, "We're got a dead body here: one that's going to have to be
explained to the Police.  Said body has a hole from a needle in his
thigh and your fingerprints are all over the syringe!"

     "B-but you said he-he died of a heart attack." I stammered.

     "For all I know. it could just as easily be an overdose," She
Devil replied. "And from what you said this joker ran around buying
everything in your name.  So when the Police see him, they're going
to start putting motive, method, and opportunity together real
fast!"

     "But you saw it"  I protested.  "You saw me... him..."

     "What I saw went by so fast I could not even figure it out,"
she countered.  "Not that the cops would buy my story any way.
They'd probably just figure me for an Accessory!  No, thank you!"

     "But then-then what are we going to do?" I whimpered pulling
the satin housecoat tighter over my smooth, bare, feminine flesh as
I curled my shapely legs beneath me for warmth.  "I-I can't let
them arrest me for murder!  I can't let anyone know I've been here
like-like this!"

     "Steady girl."  She Devil cautioned.  "There Just might be a
way to get us both off the hook for your cousin's murder without
giving anything away about your work here -- Or your disguise!
It'll take a lot of work and a lot of sacrifice on your part, but
I think we can carry it off.  And like you said your cousin told
you:  It'll be better than a stretch in prison for murder... in
your condition!"

     "Anything," I assented eagerly.  "Any thing would be better 
than that!  What's your idea?"

     "Just this:" she said. "This Roderick guy went through a lot
of trouble, you said, to leave everyone in this area convinced he
was you, Martin Howard.  Even if we knew what all he'd done, we
could probably never erase it.  So whatever happens, when they find
this stiff, the Police are going to know that Martin Howard was in
this vicinity.  So what if we carry your cousin Roderick's
impersonation of you a step further?"

     "Wh-what do you mean?" I asked.

     "Just this," She Devil explained.  "You two are roughly the
same build and hair color, and from what you've told me, neither.
one of you has any fillings, so there won't be any dental records
to check.  So what do you think the Police would figure if they
found a body -- mangled beyond recognition -- dressed in your
clothes and carrying your identification?"

     "Wh-why, they'd think it was me, I guess," I said. "Especially
since there would be local records and witnesses who thought they'd
seen me in this area!  But-but how on earth could we ever explain
that mark on his body or-or what you said about him being mangled?"

     "Easy!"  She Devil smiled. "Molly's cats!  They seem gentle
enough with her, but they just hate strange men!  We could even rub
some fish oil over the hands and face, to make sure they give those
parts a good going over!"

     I shivered in horror at the thought.  But I could see her
awful logic:  If the Police found my cousin Roderick dead here, and
me here also, in disguise, they couldn't help but think I'd killed
him; but if they found a body they thought was me, and could piece
together stories from witnesses to "prove" that I'd just arrived
here and met with an accident in the cats' cage... Then they
wouldn't be looking for me at all!.  I'd be perfectly safe!.  But
there was another problem:

     "She Devil," I said, "One other thing: As soon as word of my
'death' gets out, I'm not going to be able to be me any more! Where
will I go?  What will I do?

     "I thought you'd get around to that," She Devil replied,
"Well, I owe you something, maybe, for not letting that gay cousin
of yours shoot me.  And I definitely owe you something for lying to
me, getting this whole set up into this fix, and trying to rob poor
Molly of her inheritance--"

     "But I wasn't going to--"

     "Quiet!"  She Devil snapped.  "So I figure you can stay on
here as one of the girls for awhile.  It won't be the easy life you
were used to, but it'll be meals and a roof over your head until
you decide you'd like to try something different.  It'll beat jail,
I bet."

     "You'd do that for me?"  I asked, relieved to be seeing a way
out of all this at last.  "You'd let me stay here and work for
you?"

     "Oh, you'll be working all right," She Devil smirked.  "You
may not like all of it, but you can always leave and try something
else if you're too unhappy here, and you wouldn't get that choice
in prison.  But there's one other thing, from what you've said,
when word of Martin Howard's death gets out, those detectives that
you and your Uncle hired are going to come down on this place like
a pack of hungry hounds.  They'Il find your cousin Molly, of
course, and take her off to be reunited with her rich Daddy.  No
problem there but while they're here, and we don't know for sure
when they'll be coming or how long they'll stay, we've got to make
sure they don't recognize you or take any pictures of you that
someone else might be able to identify.  In other words, we've got
to disguise you even more than you are now.  Enough so that no one
will ever recognize you!"

     "But, how will we do that?"

     "Let's take care of this thing first."

     She Devil nudged the body of my late Cousin with the toe of
her high-heeled shiny black leather boot, then looked up at me.
"Then we'Il go see Lila, the Tattoed Lady!"

                           * * * * * *

     The detectives were a couple of overweight tired looking guys
sweating in the unaccustomed heat, but they had brought along with
them a sharp looking female attorney from a local branch of the
firm that handles my uncle's business.  I opened the door for them,
and curtseyed in my short skirted maid's uniform, my eyes downcast
demurely, trying not to feel the hot stares of the two men as their
eyes fastened on my dark, shapely legs, and the tops of my enormous
breasts.  They were round, brown, and more than amply displayed by
the low cut decolletage of my uniform.

     "Madame!"

     I turned to She Devil and curtseyed again, as I had been
taught to do, while I made the formal announcement.

     "Zee Detectives are 'eer!"

     "Thank you, Yvette."

     She Devil nodded to me condescendingly.  "Why don't you fix us
all drinks while we chat?"  She turned to her guests, "so what else
can I do for you?"

     "Nothing much, Ma'am,"  the older of the two replied, ogling
openly at me even as he spoke to She Devil. 

     "Or I guess not right now, anyway.  Miss, er Ms., Bidwell here 
just thought we should go over things one last time before we leave
with Miss O'Malley to make sure there was nothing left out of your
statement."

     I felt the still unfamiliar stiffness of my coarse, kinky
black hair as I bent my head over the drinks, trying to listen,
even as my dark hands, with their slightly lighter palms, stirred
a pitcher full of gin and vermouth.

     "Everything should be there," She Devil said calmly, relaxing
in her chair. 

     "From what you've said, that Martin Howard must have learned
something about Molly's real father and come down here trying to
find her himself.  Why he went into the Cat Cage is something of a
mystery, though."

     "From what the Police said, there were Narcotics in his system
at the time of his death."  The older detectives' eyes widened a
bit as I pirouetted gracefully in my high heels (it had been a
bitch learning to walk in them) and minced over to the company
balancing my tray of drinks.

     His voice caught in his throat as I had to turn my back to him
and serve the female attorney, who was eyeing my scanty costume
critically and pursing her lips in undisguised disapproval at the
expanse of my dark colored skin left uncovered.

     "His uncle told us that Martin was kind of a wild, high living
guy, so we figure maybe he did a few lines of Coke and wasn't
thinking too clear when he went in there," the detective went on as
soon as he had recovered from the sight of my panty clad ass, as I
bent over, as seen from the rear.  I had begged She Devil not to
make wear such tiny white lace panties with this short 'skirt', but
my pleas had fallen on deaf ears as she had insisted that I appear
in them.  I dutifully turned and offered the detective a drink as
he went on.

     "He also he had a gun with him, so maybe he figured he could
use it before those cats..,  uh down here Honey, my arm's a little
stiff and I can't raise it too high."

     I felt myself blushing hotly beneath my newly acquired dark
cheeks as I bent lower to offer him the tray of drinks, giving him
an unobstructed view down the front of my dress, even as I was
treating his partner to the panorama of my scantilty clad ebony
ass. Then I had to whirl around and go through the whole thing
again with the other guy!.

     "Better bend down a little lower Hon, I'm stiff too," he
leered, "what'd you say your name was?"

     "Sorry," I said in the baby doll voice She Devil had made me
work on until it was perfect, "but I do not understand zee English
too well yet!"

     "Her name's Yvette," She Devil answered, giving me a secret
smile as I turned to her with the last of the drinks, "she's from
Algeria, and she doesn't speak too much English yet."

     "And just how did she happen to emigrate to this part of the
world?"  Ms. Bidwell asked sweetly, with an underlying sharpness
that unsettled my nerves.  But She Devil was ready for her.

     "She advertised for an American husband," she told her.  "I'm
sure you've heard about those things.  You see, girls like her,
dark skinned with a French father and a native mother aren't
treated very well in her part of the world, so she decided to take
a risk and come over here as the bride of a man she'd never met.
Well, I won't go into details, but it didn't work out, and the
authorities were going to ship her back until I offered her a job
with me.  As you can see, she's extremely devoted and grateful to
me."

     "So I noticed," Ms. Bidwell said, finishing her drink, "but I
think we're through here now.  I'll just go and see if Molly is
packed yet.  Then we're going into the City to buy her some new
clothes before I take her back to New York.  I can't tell you how
intensely Hr. Howard is looking forward to seeing his daughter at
long last."

     "I can imagine," Fellna smiled.  "Of course, we'll miss Molly,
but we're all so happy for her, going off to be rich and
everything."  They all rose, the detectives still eyeing me
wistfully, and moved to the door. 

     "And if we can do anything more for you, just let us know."

     Once they were gone, Fellina turned to me with a triumphant
smile.

     "It worked," she said, "They won't be looking for you now!"

     "Humph!" I pouted, putting my hands on my hips.  "They were
too busy looking at me to be bothered looking for me!  I can't wait
to get out of these skimpy outfits and into some real clothes for
a change."

     "Oh! I meant to tell you about that," She Devil said, "I gave
most of your clothes to Molly.  Her Lion Tamer outfits simply
weren't appropriate to wear out anywhere, and you were really the
only girl in Camp with very much of a sensible wardrobe in anything
close to her size, so I told her just to take your things.  I think
she's driving off with them now."

     Shocked, I spun around to see Molly getting into a car with
Ms. Bidwell, wearing the clothes I had worn on my first day here
and carrying my suitcase.

     "But She Devil!" I protested.  "What will I wear?  How much of
my stuff did you give her?"

     "Don't worry,"  She Devil patted my bottom reassuringly.

     "I left you all your delicate undies and a few of your lighter
nighties, plus your taller high heels and fancy stockings, and your
other two maid uniforms, of course!"

     "But I can't go any place in those clothes," I whined.

     "Look at me!" I gestured down at the vast expanse of freshly
stained skin that the silly black satin and white lace maid's
uniform left on display, regreting that Lila had been so proficient
at her skin dying art.  My lips had been slightly enlarged by her
tattooing needle.  Even the shape of my nose had been altered by
tiny hollow plugs implanted in my nostrils.  I was a Black girl
now, down South, and with only the most outlandishly feminine
attire to wear!

     "It'll be OK," She Devil said soothingly.  "I'll order some
new clothes for you, once we decide what you're going to be doing
here and what clothes you'll need for it!  There should be enough
money left in Mattie Huntington's checking account to cover
whatever we buy.  I'll have to cash your checks on Mattie's
driver's license!  But that reminds me, you'd better go over to
your trailer and gather up whatever Molly left you and bring it
over here. Lila's got a buyer for her old trailer and she's anxious
to move into yours."

     I sighed, remembering that I'd had to sign over my brand new
luxuriously equipped trailer to Lila as payment to her for... for 
doing this to me!  Well, at least I could live at She Devil's.

     "Hurry back!"  She Devil called as I minced out the door, "I'm
anxious to discuss your new duties with you and see where you might
fit into any of the acts.  Also," she lowered her voice and one
eyelid as she continued, "I just can't wait to feel those plump
sexy lips of yours on me again!"

     Once again, I felt that ache in my between my legs.  But it
was somehow different now.  There was less of a sense of frustrated
male longing in the masculine organ beneath the false cover lately.
Whenever I was horny I now felt hot and squirmy down there but, as
long as that thing was sewn onto my crotch, there wasn't a thing I
could do about it!  My last few sessions with She Devil had been
like sweet agony as I writhed with desire for her.  She interpreted
it as increased passion on my part, and she would speak to me as we
made love, in that soft, lulling voice of hers that always made me
feel so relaxed and refreshed afterwards, although I could never
remember what it was that she said to me.  Those sessions were
still delightful, even in my current state, but for some reason it
seemed I was becoming enthralled with my present condition.

     And there wasn't a thing I could do about it!                          * * * * * * 
     I strutted across the brightly lighted arena, hearing the
crowd murmur as Lasha, the Whip Woman, stood by her rack of
carefully measured,  meticulously arranged whips and eyed me
carefully.

     And I was quite an eyeful!.  For starters, there was a leather
hood over my head that laced tightly, outlining my features and
form fitting my skull, allowing just two slits for the eyes and a 
small black mesh near the mouth for breathing.  Below this, I wore
a specially designed black leather blouse, one that lifted and
emphasized my proud breasts while totally concealing them, and
nipped in my waist delightfully.

     Below this was my skirt, also  of black leather, ruffled and
flaring playfully out from my legs so that it covered me only down
to about mid-thigh.

     Then there were the thigh length black leather boots,
bizarrely high heeled and laced all the way up my shapely legs, a
perfect match for the tight, shoulder length black leather gloves
that fit my arm like a second skin.  I was a swaying, strutting, 
inky dream in black leather, and the crowd gasped in anticipation
as I carried my tray of drinks across the arena, on a course that
would cut directly in front of Lasha, standing ready only twenty
feet away.

     *SNAP!*

     The bottle was suddenly gone from my tray.  I kept walking.

     *SNAP!*

     One glass gone.

     *SNAP!*

     The other glass gone.

     *SNAP!  SNAP!*

     Suddenly the tray was knocked from my hands and sent skimming
crazily overhead, only to be shattered into pieces like a clay
pigeon by Lasha's whip.  On cue, I froze and turned to look up at
it.
     *WWWHHHHAAACCCKKKK!!!!*

     Like some incredibly swift, incredibly strong serpent, Lasha's
whip had coiled itself around my knees, snapping loudly but
harmlessly on my leather covered thigh.  In an instant, she had
dropped it and was already sending another one streaking out at me.
Remembering the instructions, I had raised my hands to my ears as
soon as the first whip had snapped.

     *WWWAAAA----AAACCCKKKK!!!*

     Lasha's second whip, even longer than the first, had wrapped
itself around head, pinning my leather covered palms to my ears,
covering my eye slits so that I could not see, and landing with a
pain less but head ringing crack!

     I stood there a moment, standing about prettily in my high
heeled boots for the appreciative crowd.  There wasn't much else I
could do... not with my knees pinned together by the first whip and
my arms forcibly upraised, hands bound to my head by the second
one! I made what halting, stilted steps I could, feeling my breasts
and bottom sway as I tugged at my whip bonds, sensing the swish of
my leather skirt as I struggled in vain.

     *WWHHHEEEWWWAAACCCKKK!!*

     Another whip struck, this one just catching the top of my
specially designed leather skirt.  It broke away at the proper
places and whisked off my now naked hips, exposing my black bottom
and feminine loins to the crowd.

     *WWHHEEEEAAACCKKK!!*

     A matching blow, right on the heels of the first, this one
stripping my specially constructed leather blouse from me, so that
my gleaming dark torso was now completely exposed, my bare breasts
glistening with sweat, their prominence magnified by the way my
elbows were forcibly raised, my round brown bottom jiggling
helplessly above the tops of my thigh length leather boots as I
tried to mince around in my high heels, knee bound and totally
blind.

     *SNAP!*SNAP!*SNAP*  SNAP-SNAP!!*

     Now came the most delicate part of Lasha's exhibition.  For
she was whipping me in public!  Her touch with the mean looking
black snake was so skillful that all I felt were mild stinging
slaps as it cracked against my breasts, back, and buttocks, but 
the noise, and my twisting, jerking movements must have given the 
impression of an incredibly painful, merciless beating!


     *C-C-C-R-R-A-A-A-C-C-K-K!!!*

     The sound overhead was our prearranged signal for me to bend
way over.  The long, strong, imitation ponytai1 anchored to the top
of my discipline helmet now hung down in front of my shins and --

     With a single deft stroke, Lasha bound my ponytail to my legs,
keeping me forcibly bent-over.

     And now she started to work on my upturned buttocks in
earnest.  Ouch!  That was a little too realistic!  Ouch!  That one
really stung!  Eeek!  Another one!

     Totally incapable of freeing myself,  my knees pinioned
together, my hands bound to my head, and now my head bound to my
legs, I hobbled forward as best I could, trying to avoid those
painful snaps of the whip, trying to keep from falling over, trying
to forget that I was letting everyone in the world watch me,
feminized, black, bound, and now beaten!

     At last, it was over, and I was in the safety of our trailer
once again, curled up in She Devil's arms as she rubbed soothing
ointment into my inflamed butt.

     "Ooooh!  I moaned.  "It was horrible.  Oh, She Devil, I can't
do that again!  Ever!  I just can't go through with it!"

     "There, there, Little Dark One," she cooed, easing the pain
and my humiliation.  "You won't have to!  The act really wasn't as
exciting as I thought it was going to be, anyway.  (There, there
now.)  I guess there just wasn't enough contrast between your skin
and that black leather outfit to provide enough visual impact. 
It's a shame you had to spend so much money on a custom made
leather outfit that you can't use anymore,  but that's all right.
We'll just find something else for you to do.  For now, though, why
don't you come down here  a  moment... that's right, right between
my legs Darling!  I cooled down your flaming bottom, now maybe you
can kiss out my fire, hmmm?"

     It was almost instinctive of me now to go down on She Devil
whenever she asked.  It was like a hunger or a conditioned reflex.
Kneeling there between her legs, I once again felt the frustrating
ache of my own male urges, confined for so long beneath this ersatz
pussy.  But I also felt the tingle of lesbian excitement in my
breasts and loins, and I knew that somehow I must do whatever she
suggested.

                           * * * * * *

     In the dark cubicle I crouched, ready to spring out the minute
the buzzer sounded.  Ready for action!  I was wearing a white, one
piece bathing suit, white knee stockings and tennis shoes, white
rubber gloves, and, to top it all off, a white rubber bathing cap,
strapped tightly over my head. "That ought to be plenty of visual
contrast, I told myself grimly as I waited for the signal.

     BUZZZZZZZZZZ!

     The sound coincided with my door springing open and my nimble
leap out into the arena.  As the crowd applauded, I raced for the
Safety Zone on the far side of the field.  For this was an old
fashioned Calf-Roping Contest.

     And I was the Calf!

     Well, it wasn't quite so old fashioned.  As I sped across the
field, I heard the dirt-bikes of the two Round-Up Girls roar into
life as they devoured the earth, charging towards me, their lariats
colling overhead.

     But I was way ahead of them; almost there, in fact!  Just a
few more yards.  I turned my head to see how far back they were.

     Was that a mistake!  I almost froze in terror as I saw the
powerful dirt-bike barrelling down on me.  It was coming straight
at me!  Panicking, I leaped aside to avoid it, and fell face down
in the sawdust.

     WHOOM! It zoomed around me and I felt something close on my
wrist:  A noose!

     All at once I was being tugged back into the Round-Up Girls
section.  Desperately, I pulled at the noose with my free hand,
running forward to give myself enough slack to loosen it and
--