Archive-name: Bondage/circus2.txt

Archive-author: She Devil

Archive-title: Circus Story - 2





     No, life with She Devil's Travelling All-Girl Circus was not

just an extended feast between She Devil's bewitching thighs, much

as I wished it could have been.  In fact, I had to put up with

quite a few inconveniences and even indignities in order to keep up

my masquerade of femininity and pursue my search for my missing

cousin.



     For one thing, there was the way She Devil dressed me.  Since

I had agreed to be hired on her terms (although I was paying all

the expenses!) I had to wear whatever she thought appropriate. And

She Devil had decided that as my job was to be a back-stage

assistant and general helper to the other girls, the best outfit

for me would be a series of Maids Costumes!



     But what costumes they were! They were in a variety of styles,

but all were of jet-black satin with white lace trim and

accessories, such as caps and aprons.



     Aside from that, though, they were surprisingly different,

from each other and from any other kind of outfit I had ever

seen a maid wear!



     There was one traditional maid's dress, with puffed sleeves,

lace collar, layers of starched petticoats and a darling apron and

cap set.  But the skirt was so short that every time I walked in

this thing it flipped up, offering teasing glimpses of my black

panty-clad bottom as well as the tops of my opera-length black net

stockings, and bending over to do anything at all was ... well, I

might as well have raised my panties up a flag pole for all the

exposure they got



     My next Maid's outfit was much more concealing, but much more

restrictive as well.  The skirt on this one came clear to my

ankles, and the dress had a very high collar and long sleeves, as

well as matching black satin gloves.  The problem was that the

whole thing was so tight -- and made of such heavy black satin --

that I could barely move in it!  There was a corset built into the

bodice which kept my back rigid and just slightly curved, and the

high satin collar was almost as bad as the corset, forcing me to

keep my neck strained outward and my chin up, so that I had to bend

slightly forward just to see in front of me.  The arms of this

thing were so snug that I couldn't bend my elbows very far or even

raise my arms above my head.  It was a chore just feeding myself,

especially since the tight satin gloves were as restrictive as the

rest of the outfit, making it impossible for me to even close my

fingers very tightly.  It took She Devil a full fifteen minutes to

button me into this thing and lace the corset straps, and when she

was finished I couldn't get out of it without help.



     But even that outfit was better than the next one, an ensemble

so brief that it was barely there at all.  It consisted of a tight

(and I mean really tight!) satin corset with a small patch sewn on

the bottom at the front, in the shape of an elongated triangle,

with the base sewn to the corset bottom and narrowing at the tip to

a thin strap that passed between my legs and ass cheeks and then

tied to the back of the corset.  With this on, my pussy was just

about hidden, but that was all.  There was an apron sewn to the

front of the corset, the skirt portion hanging just inches below my

waist and the bib portion held up by pasties on my nipples. And

this, along with skyscraper-high heels, black-net stockings held up

by black satin garters, arm length black net fingerless gloves and

the ubiquitous maid's cap was all there was to it;  My shoulders,

the tops of my breasts, most of my back, and my entire bottom were

completely bare!  She Devil used to make me wear this when I'd been

disobedient, she said, and everyone in the group laughed heartily

at the sight of modest me scampering around camp on my duties,

trying all the while to keep my backside from view.



     And this wasn't always easy, considering some of my duties. 

Normally, all I had to do was dust and vacuum the dozen or so

trailers of the girls in the troupe, easy enough considering their

compact size and convenient layout.  I had specifically picked out

this job because it enabled me to snoop privately through the

papers in each girl's possessions, picking the locks on strong

boxes when necessary in my search for birth certificates, old

photographs, and anything else that might prove someone's identity. 

It was this way that I was able to discover... but I'm getting

ahead of myself.



     As I said, my job occasionally called for a little work above

and beyond the call, and sometimes I found myself roped into

something, that I certainly hadn't figured on when starting.



     There was the time, for instance, when Magica asked m to

assist her in an illusion.  For this one, I was attired in a

sweeping, floor-length strapless gown of light green silk, no

underwear, dark silk stockings and elbow length white gloves, along

with a string of pearls and the usual four inch high heel shoes, of

course.  Dressed like this, I waited in the stands of our portable

arena until she asked for a volunteer from the audience and someone

pushed me out.  Acting a bit nervous and reluctant (which wasn't

really acting) I came into the spotlight with her and introduced

myself as Mattie Huntington, a wealthy visitor.  Magica thanked me

for "volunteering" and led me up to a heavy wooden X-frame up on a

small platform.



     In no time at all, Magica had my wrists securely tied with

strong rope to the top of the X and my ankles similarly secured at

the bottom.  Then she called for another volunteer to make sure I

was really helplessly bound.



     Suddenly Kathy Clown came running up from the darkness at the

edge of the spotlight.  In slapstick pantomime, she conveyed to the

audience that she wanted to test me, to make sure I couldn't move,

and the audience applauded wildly.



     All at once I found myself hit in the face by a stream of

seltzer water.  I sputtered in protest, then screamed shrilly as

Kathy directed the stream down the front of my dress, soaking it to

a clinging, near transparent mess that outlined every inch of me.



     From up her sleeve, Kathy produced a huge bouquet of feather

flowers and proceeded to plant these down my decolletage.  I looked

down in wonder, only to be hit full in the face again by another

stream of seltzer.



     But Kathy was just getting started.  Smiling impishly, she

plucked a feather from the bouquet between my breasts and began

tickling me!



     Oooo!  I writhed, I giggled.  I screamed for help as I tugged

frantically at the ropes that imprisoned my wrists and ankles.  But

it was no use.  I felt the merciless caress of the feather as it

swept artfully up my sides to my armpits, behind my ears and under

my chin, then darted down to the insides of my thighs.  How long it

went on I couldn't say, but at last I was hanging exhausted by my

wrists and Kathy was bowing as the audience applauded wildly in the

darkness beyond the spotlight.



     Now Magica proceeded with her act. Two stagehands brought out

an ornate red lacquer oriental cabinet, about six feet square, and

Magica made a big production of showing everyone that it was empty. 

Then, with a flourish, she swept off her oversized cape and draped

it over the wooden X-frame, covering me completely.  Through the

heavy fabric, I  heard a "poof!" and saw a flash of light, and then

I suddenly felt a trap door opening beneath my feet as razor sharp

blades concealed in the X-frame flashed out and back, severing my

bonds.  Instantly, I was plummeting downwards as hooks caught my

dress and ripped it from me.  Then I was rolling down a short

passageway and onto a small platform.  My weight flipped a trigger

somewhere, and before I could even realize what was happening, I

was shot upwards into some kind of black closet about six feet

square.



     And then the sides  suddenly fell from the closet.  Dazed, I

blinked and looked around



     On the stage, Magica was bowing and showing off Molly, who,

attired in an outfit identical to my green dress, was now bound to

the X-frame.



     And I was standing, free, in what had been the oriental

cabinet.



     Free and almost naked!



     I squealed and clasped my arms around me as I suddenly

realized that I was standing there in front of everyone in just my

stockings, gloves and heels!  And as the band kicked up a lively

circus chase theme, I leaped from the platform and ran, blushing

furiously, to the safety of the performers door under the stands.



     A little while later, in the front of her trailer, She Devil

massaged my back softly as I lay comfortably nude on her floor. 

She was nude herself, and the feel of her bare thighs straddling my

back was giving me warn tingles all over that had nothing to do

with the carpet beneath my stomach.



     "There, there, Poor Little Thing," she cooed softly.  "I know

it was just horrible, but really you were sensational.  And you

were really the best one for the job, you know; you and Molly have

completely different coloring, but there is enough resemblance

between your faces and builds to add a lot of visual impact to the

illusion.  But don't worry.  I'll tell Magica to do her acts from

now on without your assistance."



     "Oh thank you, She Devil,"  I breathed softly, luxuriating in

the gentle touch of her hands up and down my bare back.  Then I

thought of something else: "By the way, uh, how long has Molly been

with you?"



     "Molly?" She Devil replied casually.  "Why for years and

years.  At first, she was too young to even use in any of the

acts, but her mother had died years ago and the acrobatic troupe

that bad been raising her broke up,  and...  well,  the kid bad no

place to go and nothing but a pathetic little envelope full of

papers and photographs, so I took her in and found some things for

her to do that didn't involve performing for the customers.  She

and Leona (Oh, you don't remember Leona, do you?  She left the show

a couple of years back.)   Anyway, she and Leona worked out that

cat act and when Leona left, Molly took over.  But why so

interested in Molly?  Should I be jealous?"



     "Oh no," I answered quickly.  "Just curious, that's all."



     "Well that better be all,"  She Devil moaned and leaned

forward, I felt the hairs between her legs brush across my smooth

bottom as her full breasts flattened against my bare back, and I

felt that old familiar ache in my pussy.  Did I say Pussy?  I mean

the ache was in my male genitals, of course, hidden behind the

false pussy.  Funny how I was getting confused about that lately. 

But She Devil was still talking.



     "I want you all to myself, you magnificent animal, you," she

was saying.  "I want to cage you and keep you and have you perform

just for me.  And I want to have you feeding right out of my

hand... or right out of any place else I think of!



     "Oh yes," I sighed, helpless to resist this woman's lesbian

charms. "Any thing for you, She Devil!"



     "All right, Animal!" she giggled.  "Play Horsie for me!"



     "What?"  I half rolled over and looked up at her quizzically.



     "You heard me," she insisted softly.  "Play Horsie!  Come on

now, up on your hands and knees, right between my legs here...

That's right! Oooo, that feels sexy!  Now carry me around the room

this way!  That's it!  Giddyap, Horsie!"



     And, odd as it may seem, I, Martin Howard, a man of

considerable wealth (and on my way to much more) did just as she

asked -- willingly!  Nude and completely feminized, I happily

carried this equally naked circus performer around the room on my 

back, feeling my breasts sway beneath me as I walked, revelling in

the exciting jiggle of my bare pink rump as She Devil swatted it

playfully.  And then, when my ride had ended us up in the bedroom,

I took my reward, lapping gratefully between her tempting nether-

lips until she at last moaned in fulfillment and felt my own body

tingle with naughty lesbian enjoyment.



     After then, it seemed like all She Devil wanted to do when we

were together was some variation on the "horsie" game.  As soon as

I entered her trailer, I would have to strip naked and drop to my

knees to approach her.  When I did this, she would rub me

affectionately behind the ears and call me a Good Horsie, and if

there was time she would have me fetch the Bridle.



     Ah yes, the Bridle.  I really didn't care much for this, but

She Devil had it made up specially for me by the Round-Up Girls,

and she seemed to really love having me wear it, so I humored her.

Basically, it was a set of leather straps that buckled tightly

around my head, fastened to a semi-soft plastic tube about half an

inch long and an inch in diameter.  This tube was placed between my

teeth and the straps adjusted so that I was biting down on it, my

teeth fitting into little grooves on the outside.  When She Devil

had finished putting this thing on me, my mouth was held open and

she could jerk my head side to side by pulling on the reins. I

could make little whinnying noises, but intelligible speech was out

the question so long as this thing was on.



     And She Devil had a host of devilish little tricks for keeping

it in place!  One evening, while wearing it, I happened to turn my

back to her and suddenly felt my wrists seized from behind.  In no

time, my hands were cuffed behind me and She Devil was laying down

the law:



     "Now Horsie," she said with mock severity.  "You've been very

lax in your duties lately, so I'm going to do a little something to

impress you with how much I love having you all for my very own

Horsie and how I hate to see you spending so much time in Molly's

trailer.  Understand?"



     I whined and nodded my head, agreeing that I shouldn't be

spending so much time there.  Actually, I had almost found what I

was after......  but She Devil took my assent as permission to

punish me



     "Very well," she said, uncoiling a length of rope. "Kneel

down!"



     I did as she ordered, unsure of where all this was leading,

and quickly found that she had bound my left ankle to my upper left

thigh and was doing the same with my right!  As always with She

Devil, I was completely nude except for my bridle, and as she

fussed over me, I felt myself oddly excited by the feel of her

leather boots brushing against me, the whisper of her tan denim

jodhpurs, and the softness of her breasts through her white silk

blouse as she leaned over me.



     But this was no time to think of that.  What was happening to

me?  She Devil tied each ankle immovably to its thigh, and now she

was tying my knees together with a long, long length of the soft

but strong nylon rope.  As I looked down in wonder, she took the

unused portion of this rope, which was sticking out from behind my

bent knees, and was using it to wrap my bent legs !  Around and

around she went, tightening and re-tightening, until my leg stumps

were bound together like a mummy, encircled by yards and yards of

the white cord, from my ankles and upper thighs right down to my

pink knees.



     But She Devil wasn't finished there.  In no time, she had

produced a frilly, lace trimmed, corset of heavy white satin,

reinforced  with  strong  plastic ribs, and she was fastening this

thing around my middle, tugging mercilessly at the laces.



     Ooogh!  I felt my waist being nipped in to breathless

tightness as She Devil pulled and pulled at the laces.  The frilly

white satin trim at the top and bottom of this brushed the

undersides of my breasts and tickled the hairs at the top of my

pussy as She Devil at last judged it confining enough and tied it

off.



     "Now what shall we do with those hands of yours?" She Devil

mused.  "Horsies don't have hands, you know!  I have it!"



     She went to her medicine cabinet and soon returned with two

big rolls of white surgical taps.  Taking each hand separately, she

bent the fingers and proceeded to wrap it firmly into a useless

half fist, leaving only the thumbs free.  I wondered about this

briefly.. until She Devil made her next move!



     With a smooth motion, she unlocked my handcuffs and before I

could think what to do, tied my thumbs together in front of me with

a length of white nylon ribbon.  Then, to finish things off, she

ran a length of narrow white nylon cord from my thumbs to my knees,

leaving about two feet of slack between them|



     "There now!"  She Devil stood up and smiled down at me.

"Horsie won't go wandering off now, will she?"



     I looked at myself in a full length mirror on the far wall and

blushed with shame.  Crouched there on my hands and knees, I was a

pink and white picture of helpless submission.  The white bondage

encircling my bent up legs and hands went perfectly with my white

satin corset, accentuating the flesh tones of exposed breasts and

bottom, which now reared up behind me in humiliating prominence. 

Encircled by my dark hair and the leather straps of my bridle, my

pretty feminine face gaped uselessly at the sight I made, down on

all fours and completely unable to rise, to take off my bridle...

to do anything but what I was ordered!



     And, standing over me, toying with a shiny black riding crop ,

She Devil obviously had some interesting orders planned!



     "Move around some, Horsie!"  she giggled softly.  "I want to

study your movements.  Get along now!"



     As best I could, I moved my bound fists forward on the carpet,

then wiggled my ass behind me, sliding my knees forward to catch

up.  Then, when I had a little more slack, I repeated the whole

shameful process:  First a breathtaking jerk with my taped fists,

then a tail wagging shuffle with my hampered knees to catch up. 

She Devil laughed delightedly at my antics.



     "How cute!" she chuckled, flexing the riding crop  in her

hands.  "But I wonder what would happen if I used this!"



     I quailed at the sight of the leather quirt, shaking my head

and whining for all I was worth, and She Devil laughed again.



     "Oh, I don' t mean to spank your naughty bottom with," she

tittered.  "Not right now, anyway!   But look what happens when I

tickle your nipples with it... my!  They're standing right up! And

you're moaning!  Now what happens when I brush it across the soles

of your bare feet?  Does that tickle?  My, your bottom bounces when

you jump like that!  And the way your titties shake is positively

indecent!  Settle down Horsie!"



     Somehow, I made myself stop bucking and stood there (if being

forcibly tied down on one's hands and knees can be called

"standing") quivering with anxiety and sexual tension as She Devil

softly stroked my naked flanks with her hand, then playfully

tickled me under the nose with the tip of the riding crop .



     "And now, Horsie, it's time you were punished for spending so

much time in Molly's trailer and making She Devil jealous!"



     Punished?  You mean there was more?  Yes, apparently there

was, because She Devil went on:



     "You see, it's just now Show Time and I'm going to be busy for

the next few hours coordinating some of the acts.  I had thought

about just tying your reins to a post out in the middle of the

campgrounds and leaving you there, but now I have a better idea:"



     "After the Show, I'm going straight to your trailer.  When I

get there, I want to find you, bound just as you are now.  That

means you'll have to hustle your cute little ass all the way there

from here!  Fortunately for your sake, there won't be too many

girls in this area during the show, but you'll have some pleasant

moments trying to keep from being seen like that, my little modest

missie!  I think I may also tell the girls that there's a reward

out for whoever catches you out and ties you to her trailer, just

to make things interesting!  So, there you have it, Horsie:  You've

got about three hours to sneak across camp and lock yourself in

your trailer until I come for you.  If you're caught, your fate

will be up to whoever catches you.  But if you don't, at least try

to make it, and I find you still in here when I come beck after the

show..."  She  smiled impishly.  "Well, let's just say that this

nasty old riding crop  has a lot of applications!  'Ta now!"



     And, blowing me a kiss, she vanished out the door!



     I don't know how long I huddled there in that trailer, feeling

my arms and legs stiffen in their restraints, chafing under the

growing ache in my neck as I strained to hold my head up, and

trembling in fear at the prospect of hobbling and crawling clear

across camp in this bound-up bare-assed state.  I looked at myself

miserably in the mirror and my big pink bottom and jiggling bare

breasts seemed to mock me.  How had a man like me ever gotten into

a situation like this?  Feminized, bridled, breasted and bound down

on all fours, and in this state faced with the prospect of trying

to make it clear across the circle of trailers that formed our

camp, at the mercy of a bunch of gaudy whores!



     For the umpteenth time I wondered what spell She Devil had

cast over me to get me into a fix like this, then I sighed, nosed

open the trailer door and peeked out.



     It looked good.  Everyone was assembled for the Opening Parade

and the rest of the camp was deserted.  Cautiously I turned around,

backed my big rump out the door, and backed carefully down the

three steps to the ground.



     Down on the soft grass at last, I looked around again.  Still

deserted; I just might make it.  But I'd better keep close to the

trailers and go around the perimeter rather than cut across; that

way, if anyone came, I could always duck under a trailer and hide

till they passed.  Cautiously, I began my journey: A forward tug on

my bound arms, then a jiggling shuffle in my knees to catch up. 

Then another forward tug.  And another shuffle.  Tug-shuffle, tug-

shuffle, tug-shuffle  ....



     My bridled jaws throbbed with the pain of being kept forced

open like this for so long, even as my neck screamed silent agony

from the strain of holding my head up to see in front of my. Every

forward tug of my bound hands jerked at the rope that secured them

to my knees and prevented me from straightening up.  My knees

burned from the friction of scooting them across the grass,  and my

bent-up, rope-wrapped legs felt like they were growing numb.  I had

to stop, rest, and hide somewhere.



     Then I looked up and saw that I was right in front of Molly's

trailer.



     And the door was ajar!



     Over the last week or so, I had indeed been spending quite a

lot of time there, as She Devil had mentioned;  but not for the

reason she suspected!  Ever since She Devil had dropped that

passing comment about Molly showing up with "a pathetic little

envelope full of papers and photographs" I had been obsessed with

the idea of finding them and seeing if they contained proof of

Molly's identity.



     You see, there was a lot about Holly that led me to believe

that she was none other then my long-lost bastard cousin.  As She

Devil had mentioned, there was a slight physical resemblance

between us: nothing major, just a hint around the chin and nose.

More importantly though, Molly had mentioned to me once that she

had exceptionally  strong teeth and had never required any dental

work!  This was one characteristics that is shared by nearly all

the Howard family, and when she told me about it, it clenched my

suspicions.  All I needed was proof.  And the only place to get it

would be to find that envelope full of papers and photographs, that

until now I hadn't had a chance to really search for!



     All this and more flashed through my mind in an instant as I

tugged and pulled my way up her steps and in the door of her

trailer.  It might seem terribly foolish of me to try looking for

anything in my present state,  but I had to rest somewhere anyway,

and I knew I might not get a chance like this again soon.



     Half an hour later, rested and a little more mobile, I began

my search.  I had found a knife in the kitchenette of Molly's

trailer and used it to cut the ribbon that held my thumbs together.

With my hands still taped up, it didn't free me by a long shot, but

at least I could raise my arms now and use my thumbs to open

drawers and such.



     Being familiar with Molly's trailer, it didn't take me long to

find what I was looking for: a strong manila envelope tucked into

some old scrapbooks.  And everything I needed was right there!  A

birth certificate from some county in Utah that I'd never heard of,

where one Kitty O'Malley, passing through with a troupe of

acrobats, had delivered her daughter Molly.  There were

photographs, of mother and daughter that cinched the whole thing;

The  Kitty O'Malley in these pictures was obviously the one that

Uncle Hubert's detectives were looking for, and the girl with her

was just as obviously her daughter Molly!



     It was all here, everything I needed.  And it was in just the

right package, too!  Without this stuff, much as they might

suspect, no one could prove that Molly was really Uncle Hubert's

bastard child.  With it, the proof would stand up anywhere.



     And I had it all, right in my hands, to do whatever I wanted

with!



     For just a second, I forgot all about my present condition. I

forgot that I was feminized, bound, bare breasted and bare-assed,

bridled speechless and hobbling about on my knees.  For that brief

moment, I was Martin Howard all over again, a man of wealth and

status, with infinite possibilities stretching out before him:

Should I take this stuff to my greedy relatives and let them bid to

buy my silence?  Or should I play the hero and be the one to bring

the long-lost daughter back to the arms of her dying, loving, and

financially grateful repentant  father?  Either way, I was going to

be richer than I ever had been before.  All I had to do was tell

She Devil that I'd had enough of Circus Life, drop out of the

troupe and disappear, only to resurface in a few days as my real

self.



     Well, I decided, all things considered I might as well be Mr.

Nice Guy and tell Molly about her inheritance and help her prove

her claim to it.  Besides, that would give me a chance to see She

Devil again, and find out if she'd respond to me as I really was: 

A man!



     Sighing through my open-mouth tube, I decided I'd better

replace the envelope and try to sneak back to my trailer.  Still in

my uncomfortable bondage (a little easier now with my arms not

bound together, but still awfully awkward)  I pranced my ass beck

to the scrapbook and, clutching the envelope as best I could with

my thumb and taped fist, began putting it back.



     And then a hand reached down from behind and snatched it away!



End of Part 2.

--