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Carnival Girl

34600 words

Style: Male Dom - M/F, Sex Slavery / Training

Rebecca was a small town girl awed by the bright lights and noises of the traveling carnivals. Barely out of high school, she is seduced by Jimmy, a carnival barker, and eagerly goes on the road to see the world. Little did the innocent young woman guess the depths of debauchery Jimmy and the carnies would lead her into. She doesn't understand why Jimmy likes to tie her up so much, and thinks the spankings are a kinky, exciting thing, at first. But soon she's servicing Jimmy's friends, both male and female, and as her inhibitions are torn away she becomes the sexual plaything of anyone who wants her. Instead of selling sodas she becomes part of the carnival's darker, little talked about exhibits, performing lap dances in a dark tent, and staring in a show of depravity and bondage involving Billy the dwarf and Chris the shemale. It's a life far worse than her parents' worst nightmare, but it's a dark and terrible thrill to Becky.

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The T&A tent was an enclosed bar that was always just a little away from everything else in the carnival. It wasn’t always even there, depending on local laws and the degree to which they were enforced. That often meant whether the local law could be co-opted for a few dollars or some free services. It was basically a little bar with overpriced alcohol and strippers, but it was more than that. There were little side “rooms” inside it for lap dances, and the lap dances would go pretty far, too, if the customers were willing to pay. I mean, they wouldn’t actually have sex with them, but just about anything else was fair game – again, depending on what the local law would allow.
We didn’t advertise it. You couldn’t find it, really, without someone telling you what to look for. It didn’t look like it was even open to the public. The carnies would tell likely looking men, though, usually after engaging them in some conversation to make sure they weren’t particularly conservative about such things and might be of the type wanting to see it. And they would find their way to the tent, one or two at a time.
Karen had mentioned it when she’d first taken me for a tour of the Carnival and I’d kind of seen it since then. The girls who worked it did other jobs when the tent wasn’t in operation, and not all were what I’d call exactly beautiful. But I suppose if you were some hick farmer in Buttfuck Alabama almost anything looked good to you.
You have remember that a lot of the places the carnival went to didn’t have much in the way of nearby entertainment, and that was especially so in the areas where the local government had managed to ban anything like a strip club, or even a Hooters type restaurant. We could go in, and have the little tent, and by the time any of the holy rollers found out about it was a bit late to start a public campaign to denounce our indecency because we’d be well gone.
The local law knew that too. They could plead ignorance for a day or two, and then shrug it off since we’d be gone. They knew, of course, and were often steady visitors themselves. When Karen first suggested I work there I said no way, of course, but she kind of persisted, and she said that really, I didn’t have to strip, but could just wait on tables, and make a ton of money. That sounded a lot more attractive, and I have to admit that I wasn’t overly enjoying my stint as the girl who got dropped into the water every time some clown hit the lever with a baseball. It was exciting, in a way, but I almost froze my ass off on chilly days.
I started working there in a place called Halifax, Wisconsin, and my first rude awakening was that the waitresses were supposed to wear lingerie. Karen did some fast talking, comparing bras and panties to swimsuits - which, come to think of it I had actually told her about earlier with regard to my duties as the splash girl. So anyway, she was persuasive, and although I was uneasy about it, I started working in a black bra and panties - wearing high heels, of course, waiting on tables.
It wasn’t a big tent once you put in a little stage for the strippers and the side rooms, and the little round tables were kind of jammed together pretty close.. There wasn’t a lot of light either. They had candles on the tables, and then what electric light there was, was focused on the stage. That made it kind of dim, which was good, in a way, since I was in my underwear, but bad in that I got groped a lot as I moved among the tables. Mostly it was just my ass, though, and I learned to hang on tight to the bottles and plastic cups I was carrying, and not be startled at a hand on my butt for a few seconds.
I was really nervous, at first, and the darkness was a relief. The first time I got groped my eyes went really big, and I whirled around on the guy who did it but couldn’t be sure who it was and didn’t want to make a big scene. But it happened a lot, and I sort of got used to it. As long as you kept moving there wasn’t much they could do, really but a quick stroke or grope or pinch. It ticked me off, at first, and embarrassed me, but I sort of got used to it.
And to be honest, I started to feel kind of turned on, being in a room full of horny men in just my underwear like that. I felt kind of shameless and wanton and outrageous to be parading around in my bra and panties, even though they were full panties and not a thong or anything. And guys casually stroking my thighs and butt as I walked by became less of an embarrassment and more a turn-on because it was part of that outrageous behaviour, you know? And maybe because it was part of that strange dark sense of being used, being forced, being roughly treated that I was coming to identify as super exciting. Maybe I was becoming a masochist, I don’t know.
I knew there wasn’t really much I could do about those guys, though, given the darkness and the crowd, and so it wasn’t really something I controlled. In a weird way, that gave a sense of freedom. Since I couldn’t stop it, I didn’t need to feel like a terrible slut for “allowing” men to touch me. Does that make any sense to you?
There were a lot of suggestions from the men that I go up on the stage or give them a lap dance but I just shook my head and smiled. Taking off my clothes in front of a crowd of strange men like the strippers did wasn’t something that interested me. I mean, for some reason it didn’t seem terribly hot to me then, just kind of nasty and dirty. The lap dances, on the other hand, did seem kind of hot, and I gave Jimmy some hot lap dances every night when I got back to our trailer.
The truth is I got aroused working there. I was surrounded by horny men the whole time, staring at me, touching me, wanting me, and thinking nasty thoughts about what they’d like to do about me. That was partly embarrassing and uncomfortable, but also exciting to my dark and nasty sense of passion.
One time I got back to the trailer and Al was there drinking with Jimmy. I was feeling hot and horny, and just wearing my little denim dress that zipped up front, and a little drunk too because I’d been bought a number of drinks. Al was his usual smirking, teasing self, asking if I’d given any good lap dances at the T&A tent, then taunted me for not being able to dance.
“I can so dance,” I said. “I just don’t want to dance in front of a room full of strange men.”
“Dance for me, then, baby,” Jimmy said with a grin.
Jimmy had gotten one of those home stripper poles somewhere, and would sometimes put it up in the middle of the “living room” part of the trailer. It was a simple pole that extended from floor to ceiling, and when you tightened the extendable pad it was kind of tight, tight enough to hold me, anyway. Jimmy had had me dancing, and practicing on the stripper pole, just for him, learning how to do the moves I saw the girls in the T&A tent do. I suppose I should have foreseen that this was more than just for his private entertainment, that he thought I would be doing more in that tent than serving meals, but I was still kind of young and innocent.
I did like dancing for him, but not with Al there, which is what I said as I flopped down and took a beer from the fridge. So instead we chatted - Carnies being not generally the going-to-bed-early types, and we drank, and to make a long story short I wound up dancing for them anyway, at first swearing I would only do it fully clothed, then because I couldn’t in that dress I stripped to my bra and thong, and then, getting into it, getting excited, I wound up tossing the bra, and then the thong. Well, Al had already seen me, right? Sooo…
And then, of course, I wound up giving Jimmy a lap dance while Al watched. So what I was trying to do was make Jimmy come in his pants which is what the girls doing lap dances tried to do. So there I was, naked straddling Jimmy, grinding my butt against his hard-on through his jeans as the music blasted out of the radio. I could feel how hard he was below, pressed against my butt as I ground against him, and tried to remember the little tricks the girls had told me about to turn him on more.
I had to keep fending off his hands, telling him the customers weren’t allowed to touch the dancers, but he kept doing it anyway, and truth to tell I was kind of liking and wanting his touch so that I eventually gave up trying to stop him. The girls let the men touch them anyway, once they’d paid enough. And I found it both exciting and embarrassing to have him touching me while I was grinding atop him naked - and Al sitting next to him watching!
And then at some point I realized that with both his hands on my breasts he couldn’t have one free to be squeezing and rubbing my butt, and that Al was doing that. I was a bit indignant, but Jimmy only laughed, and so somehow or other I wound up giving Al a lap dance, too, and then I wound up fucking both of them. Man! Was I ever becoming a slut!
So there I am, kind of drunk, pretty horny, straddling Al as he sits on this ratty old armchair. I’m naked, of course, impaled on his big stick, my hands behind his neck as he sucked and chews at my breasts, riding up and down and moaning in pleasure. And I hear this voice behind me.
“Ride em, cowgirl.”
It was Karen, and I gasped, at first, jerking my head around so I almost fell over. But Al’s hands were on my ass, so I couldn’t fall back, and she only laughed, lounging on the beat up sofa right behind me. And there was really nothing for me to do - nothing Al would allow me to do - but keep riding him, even though she was sitting right behind me and watching.
Well, it wasn’t like she hadn’t seen everything, right? Even so I was embarrassed, anxious, and hesitant at first. But as I kept riding the heat and passion took over and I could almost but not quite forget she was staring right at me, watching me sliding my wet pussy up and down on Al’s hard prick.
“Such a baad, little girl,” she purred. “Don’t you know strippers aren’t supposed to fuck the guests?”
“She just ain’t got no control,’ Jimmy said.
“She needs discipline,” Karen said with a snigger.
I came, just about then, so I ignored them, gasping and moaning and crying out softly as I plunged down onto Al’s cock again and again.
I sank down and lay, panting, pressed against him for long seconds as his hands caressed my body, then Karen snapped her fingers at me repeatedly to get my attention. I turned my head around, woozy, blinking my eyes.
“Come over here, bad girl. Momma wants to spank your nasty little bottom,” she said.
I stared at her in confusion for a bit, but Al pushed me, easing me off him and onto the floor. The chairs were so close there wasn’t a lot of point in standing up, so I just shuffled over on my knees, a bit wary but not really knowing how to say no.
“Bad girl,” she said coyly. “Get across Momma’s lap so she can spaank you.”
I didn’t want to be spanked but I have to admit I felt a little flare of heat and kinky excitement at her order. Again I considered how to refuse, but she grabbed me by the arm, pulling me forward, then shifted her grip onto my hair. I yelped a little in pain, forced to slide forward across her lap until I was positioned as she wanted, then she gave my bare bottom a sharp smack that stung and made me yelp and twist and kick my feet.
“Nasty little slut,” she said tauntingly, her hand caressing my bottom.
“Oww! That hurts!” I whined.
“How is the nasty little girl going to learn otherwise?”
She slapped my bottom again, and then again, and again and I began to twist and wriggle, trying to shove my hands back to block her.
“Bad girl,” she said.
She pinned my wrists together behind me, and Jimmy handed her one of the leather laces he used to tie me up quickly. I felt my wrists bound tightly together behind me, and then she resumed her spanking, her hand smacking down onto my bottom repeatedly as I wriggled and moaned and protested.
She slipped her spanking hand down between my buttocks, down under them, caressing my pussy, which was really quiet moist, and began to finger me there.
I was panting; gasping, moaning, and much preferred this to the spanking. I felt her long fingers slide into me and pump in and out, then a third finger pushed in, the three of them twisting and turning inside me.
She stopped and slapped my bottom a few more times, making it burn and ache so I twisted and bucked and shined again. Then she returned to fingering me, stroking my clit, shoving her fingers into my pussy, even pushing her thumb down into my ass.
Jimmy found a couple of large dildos, and some lube, and I groaned as first one, then the other, were buried in my belly. Then she started spanking again, her other hand groping my breast or pulling at my hair, whichever struck her fancy. My ass was HOT! It was aching and burning from the continued spanking, but she wasn’t leaving my pussy alone either, stroking and caressing it and pumping the dildo in and out so that sexual heat and hunger flowed through my veins in a hungry torrent.
The two men were laughing at me, encouraging Karen, calling me a nasty little slut, and I have to admit a part of me enjoyed being the centre of attention, enjoyed having them watch a kind of show that featured me in it - naked. I was also kind of getting into the captive schoolgirl thing, the bad girl being spanked, you know. And while the spanking stung, it wasn’t painful enough to really pull me back from the wild storm of heat growing inside me.
I shuddered and arched back as she thrust the dildo really deep inside me. It was the bigger dildo, and she’d lubed it up really nice, so that I was slick and slippery inside. The thing moved deliciously across my skin, sliding back and forth between my taut pussy lips and driving deep into my belly. And every time she pumped it several times and got me worked up she’d stop and give me some more spanks to my throbbing butt.
It was a strange, hot mixture of pleasure and pain, and I’m not sure I would have quite been able to cope with it even if I’d been sober. I sure couldn’t with as much booze in me as I had.
Then she pulled the dildo back out and thrust four fingers into my silky pussy, twisting and turning them before jamming them in harder. I wasn’t sure why they felt so thick, why they were stretching and straining my pussy opening more and more. I mean, I’d just fucked Jimmy and Al, and had that big dildo pumping inside me so I should be more than ready to hold a few fingers. But I felt myself stretching and aching as her hand pushed in - and then I realized with a jolt, that she had wedged her thumb in against her fingers and was trying to shove her whole hand inside me!
I groaned weakly, writhing and twisting as I tried to see behind me, my mind starting to spin even worse as I realized what she intended, and felt my pussy lips spreading wider and still wider. Then there was a sharp little pain as they spread just wide enough, and her knuckles passed into me. I felt the bulge as they slid into my pussy tunnel, and then my pussy lips eased a little more closed as her hand passed inside, squeezing down around her wrist.
Ohmygod! It felt incredible! I had a whole hand inside me! It was turning slowly around and around, the fingers turning and pressing and prodding at the soft, elastic flesh of my tunnel. I was gulping in air, eyes wide, almost all my attention turned inward, gasping at every movement of her fingers and hand. She pushed it slowly deeper and I groaned as my pussy lips slid down her wrists. I was awfully well lubed but she had her whole fucking hand in me!
Then I felt her fingers kind of pulling up and back, one by one, until they formed a solid ball inside me, her fist, and she began to rotate it slowly, first one direction, then the other. At the same time she started to spank me with her left hand, and the sharp little stinging blows echoed through my nervous system and did something that seemed to almost vibrate, to echo against my clit. I twisted and writhed as she continued spanking, and then began to work her fist in and out.
She couldn’t move her fist far or fast, but the pressure, going in and pulling back was mind blowing! An orgasm howled through my body so that I couldn’t think or speak or even breathe. I writhed in animal pleasure and heat as convulsions wracked my body, and in the midst of it she kept spanking and thrusting.
It ached! It hurt! And it felt incredible! Wild! The thrill of intense sexual passion and heat burned along my veins and I felt the world spin around me as I forgot to breathe. I lay gasping, moaning and drooling, my face against the sofa as she caressed my bottom and her fingers slid down my side to squeeze my breast.
“Are you sorry for being such a bad little girl?” she purred.
I didn’t answer, and she gripped my hair, pulling my head up and back so that my scalp ached and I groaned aloud.
“Are you sorry for being such a bad little girl?” she demanded.
She was, technically smaller and thinner than me but that didn’t really matter.
“Yessss!” I moaned.
“Say yes, Mistress Karen,” she ordered.
Her fist pushed deeper and I shuddered and gasped aloud.
“Say it, slut,” she said, pulling more harshly on my hair.
“Yes, m-mistress Karen!” I gasped.
“Say I’m sorry for being such a bad little girl, Mistress Karen.””
I felt a ripple of embarrassment. I mean, it was one thing to submit to the guys making me their slut, and another to let another woman do it. It was worse still to have her do it while the guys were looking on grinning and rubbing their bulging trousers.
“I-I’m sorry for -- for being such a b-bad little girl, Mistress Karen,” I panted, face red.
My words ended with a shuddering groan as her fist twisted around inside me. Fuck it was deep! Her fist turned one way, then the other, slowly, then pushing forward against the back wall of my pussy.
“Please!” I gasped. “Oh! Oh!”
“You want more, slut? You want it deeper?”
“No!” I gasped.
She slapped my bottom sharply. “You forgot to say Mistress, you slut.”
“No, Mistress!” I groaned.
“We should have Billy fist her. I bet he could get his whole fuckin’ arm up inside,” Jimmy said as Al chortled agreement.
Billy was the dwarf, or, well, little person, I think he preferred to be called, part of the strange little freak show thing I generally stayed clear of.
“Please! Oh! Oh! Please!”
“Please, mistress, slut,” she said, slapping me again.
“Please, mistress!” I gasped. “I-It’s too deep, mistress!”
“Nonsense. I bet I can get it up inside you to the shoulder,” she said.
Jimmy and Al snickered. Bastards!
They obviously loved the show, though, staring in fascination, their cocks hard under their jeans.
It was too much for me, and the sensations mounted as she began to move her fist in and out with more authority. She started spanking me again, and the guys were urging her on, and my yelps and gasps and pleas gave way to moans and then cries of wild, helpless pleasure. She fisted me to a come, and then another one, and then a third so that my entire body was flushed with heat and I felt as though I were dizzy and dazed and worn out.
And my pussy ached something fierce!
It was amazing how elastic I was, though, and how deep her hand could get inside me. Jimmy came across and gripped my hair, pulling my head up and back, and slid his stiff cock into my open mouth, then down my throat, fucking me excitedly while Karen fisted me. Then she slid her other hand down under my hip and started to rub my clit while Al fucked my throat.
What a wild night!
Finally, she pulled her hand out of me, and I groaned in relief even as she pulled me by the hair - on all fours - down the trailer into the bedroom. Then she shut the door and rode my face for long minutes as my tongue licked up at her.
Wow. I was becoming everything my parents feared I would at the carnival. And when I’d started I had thought their fears were ridiculous, absurd, that people here were pretty much normal, the same as everyone else. If they could have seen me that evening they’d never have spoken to me again!
But boy did I come that night!


I think this is Argus's best story for some time. I thought it a very good read.

5/5- JBC

very entertaining and thrilling I was drawn all the way never expected the result

5/5- possum



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