Freakshow

by Jaden Wilkes

  It landed exactly where we’d planned, he was a brilliant shot, I’d give him that. I felt it sink through my flesh like a heated metal through the proverbial stick of butter, and I was pinned to the cork board on the wheel behind me.

  I almost forgot to scream, I was so focused on the knife in my arm. Half a breath in and I remembered. I really let loose, a long drawn out shriek of pure terror. My throat vibrated with the energy I put into it, I was worried it would be too dramatic and not very convincing.

  Orion stopped the wheel from turning and the crowd went wild when they realized what had happened. People were exclaiming and standing in their seats vying for a better look, they had bought into my act. I was pleased with myself and tried to contain my satisfied smile.

  Orion’s two assistants came rushing out to help him take me off the wheel and offer a steady hand to guide me to the stage floor where he would assess the damage.

  I was bleeding fabulously and continued to cry out as if in intense pain. I turned out to be a natural at this entire performance thing. I had acting in my blood apparently. After all, I’d pretended to be normal my entire life, so this wasn’t much more of a stretch for me.

  I imagined this would bloody hurt if I had any feeling. I moaned and rolled back and forth when they helped me down. I allowed Orion to drop me to the floor with a dramatic flourish while the assistants rushed to get a stretcher.

  I writhed in Orion’s arms and he said, “You’re doing amazingly well. Keep it up, and you’ll be the star of the show.” I smiled at him, fully thrilled that he had given his approval. I was enjoying this too much to hate myself for needing his feedback.

  The medics loaded me up and whisked me off stage. I heard Orion apologizing for the terrible thing that had just occurred and promising to keep Freakshow open a little longer just to make up for the emotional trauma anybody might have gone through.

  Of course, Freakshow had a fully licensed bar attached to it, and after a shock like that, the gathering crowds would surely need a drink.

  I was checked over, my wound bandaged up and was told I was free to go. I had to give it to Orion, he was a brilliant showman and knew exactly what it would take to get a crowd worked up and spending money.

  I subconsciously rubbed my arm and looked for Cairo. He was standing a few feet away watching me, an unreadable expression on his face. He approached when he noticed I was alone.

  “That was brilliantly well done!” he told me, “you had every one of them eating out of your hand, waiting for your every cry. It was extraordinary really.”

  “I think it went pretty well,” I said, “I was skeptical at first but your father was right...people love disaster.”

  “They love you,” he replied and took my hand. He tugged gently and I followed him outside. Who was I kidding? I wanted to talk to him. I wanted to believe him and prayed he would make this all right. Besides, the performance had been so invigorating that there was no way I could possibly go back to my trailer and sleep.

  “Where are we going?” I asked as he led me across the grounds of the Cirque. It was after eleven, nothing was nearby, so I hoped he was taking me to his RV.

  “The concession,” he said and I hid my disappointment. I felt high, giddy with the stimulation of public performance and felt like it would be a convenient reason to explore his pierced, thick cock again. “They serve drinks at night, did you know that?”

  I shook my head. I didn’t as I was usually in bed long before this.

  “It’s handy, if you have any money left on your employee card at the end of the month, you can spend it on booze. That’s why there’s usually a bit of a party once a month, so staff can use up their credits.”

  “So you’re okay with that? As the boss?”

  “I’m not the boss,” he said, “I know I keep this beast afloat, but I’m not exactly in charge of anyone.”

  “Who is then?”

  “That honour would go to the big bad wolf, my father. You should know that by now.”

  “I know people have been treating me differently since we hooked up that night at the party. I know people think I’m in with the boss so I’m automatically a snotty bitch,” I said. It wasn’t exactly fair to him, but I knew showing up with Cai to drink after my first performance would set me apart from the other employees more than anything else. But I wanted to be with him, talk and spend time. It was a self-destructive compulsion, I didn’t want to lose the comfort I’d found with my coworkers, but I couldn’t help but follow him into the tent.

  He ordered us each a vodka tonic – he’d remembered my drink – and settled in at a table near the back, where the lighting was dim and the crowd had thinned out a little. I ignored the pointed stares from other Cirque employees and sat with him as though I were meant to.

  I knew they would whisper, that I’d only gotten the sweet gig with Orion because I was dating Cairo. It wasn’t like that though, and I didn’t have the time or energy to try and explain myself to anybody.

  Speaking of explaining, I sipped my drink and waited for Cai to start stuttering his lame excuses for not mentioning his fiancée.

  “I know you must hate me,” he said and took a long draw of his drink. Liquid courage. “The thing is, my life is pretty fucked up.”

  “Whose isn’t?” I snorted and chewed on a cube of ice.

  Cai managed a small, ironic smile at my reaction and went on, “As you know I was in school. I’d been out of the lifestyle here for several years. I was happy.”

  “Were you clean cut and free of tattoos...and piercings?” I asked and glanced towards his lap, then flamed bright heat at my attempt to not think about the elephant in the room. The giant pierced cock just a couple feet away from me. God, I was insane for it now.

  He didn’t seem to notice. “No, I actually got all the work done in university, it was my rebellious stage. The beard came later, when I moved back.”

  He had another drink and took a deep breath. “My mother got cancer. We all knew she was sick, and getting sicker, but my father was relentless with the touring schedule. She should have gotten medical care months before she was able to. My sisters begged him to stop for the year and let her go to a doctor, but he refused. It wasn’t until I showed up that he relented, and by then it was too late.”

  “I’m so sorry,” I said and looked at my glass, felt ashamed for my lack of compassion. My own parents had been taken dramatically, instantaneously with no time to prepare or say goodbye. Somehow it seemed a blessing, rather than watch somebody you love slowly fade before your very eyes with no power to prevent it.

  “It’s okay,” he said and gave me a small smile, “that was two years ago now, she didn’t make it long. She died in Montreal, that’s where she’s buried. Anyways, her dying wish was for me to get married and take care of the Cirque. I come from Eastern Europe, from a traveler family that went back countless generations performing in the circus...and other things.”

  “It’s so strange that this entire performer world exists, and has existed for eons, and I never knew a thing about it,” I mused and let him continue his story...and excuse.

  “Part of the tradition of our people is that the eldest son must take over the family business, and marry a girl suitable to his family. As you might have guessed, it’s pretty much out of date and people do what they want.”

  “Which is probably for the best, right?”

  “Yes, most everyone is on board with it. The older generation has trouble though, they believe that’s the reason circuses and freak shows are dwindling and dying out. I think it has more to do with shifting trends in entertainment, but I couldn’t tell my parents anything. They insisted I agree to marry Mila, and I finally agreed with them in the end. But only for my mother’s sake, I didn’t intend to go through with it. My father understood this at the time and hadn’t brought it up since then.”

  “So what changed? When did he start talking about it again?”

  “The night after our first date,” h
e said softly, “do you remember that?”

  “It wasn’t that long ago,” I said and laughed, “and maybe I didn’t think it was a date.”

  He didn’t laugh back, he just looked at me with his deep, dark, soulful eyes and said, “I think we both knew what was going on.”

  His seriousness wiped the smile off my face and I was hit with a sudden vision of his face between my thighs and couldn’t breathe for a moment.

  Then a smile played around the edges of his eyes and finally reached his lips when he said, “Just to make it clear. This is a date.”

  I had to smile back, and replied, “Okay, point taken. I give up. This is a date. But why did that prompt your father into bringing up Mila?” Even saying her name hurt me, I would rather pretend there wasn’t a stunning contortionist named Mila with rights to my man. At least I assumed Mila was stunning, and even if she wasn’t, she was certainly bendy enough to make up for it sexually.

  And stop the presses, my man? What was wrong with me? He wasn’t mine...yet. But it felt so right to say it...in my head at least.

  “Money,” he replied, “with him it’s all about money. He’s had some issues with alcohol over the years, but my mother kept him on the straight and narrow. Over the past year he’s been drinking again, but he added gambling to the mix.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said and genuinely meant it. I couldn’t imagine the pressure he felt to keep it all together, to give up his own life’s dreams to make this life work. Not just for him and his father, but his sisters and the hundreds of people who relied on the Cirque for steady employment and a surrogate family.

  Cai leaned forward across the table and grabbed my hand. He stroked my thumb as he talked and made it extremely difficult to concentrate on what he was saying. “The Cirque barely stays afloat as it is,” he told me, “I have to get pretty creative at tax time and make sure the employees keep their tips under the table to make this worthwhile for them. Somehow, against the odds, I was keeping us going and even bringing in some money for the family. When he started gambling, I lost my grip on it all. We’re seconds away from losing it all, Liv, and it’s pretty fucking hard to admit that.”

  “So Mila has money?” I asked and the words almost choked in my throat now that I knew what his marriage would represent.

  “She does, her family will inject our circus with half a million dollars once she’s legally wed. They want her to come to North America.”

  “Fuck,” I said, “that’s a lot to take in.”

  “It really is,” he said and finished his drink. “Do you want another?” he asked me and shook his glass, the ice rattling and jarring me back into my body.

  “Not really,” I replied and decided right then and there that I was going to fuck Cairo tonight. Not just because he was hot and made me feel desperately out of control. Or because he’d given me not one, but two feral, savage orgasms.

  I wanted to fuck him because he needed me, and I needed him, and there was no more perfect reason in the universe to me right then.

  Need, love, it was all a mixed up jumble along the same spectrum, and in the end, as long as we spent the night whispering and kissing and touching and easing each other’s grief for a brief few hours, what did it matter?

  I stood and held his gaze, reached out my hand and said, “I have a better idea.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  “Are you sure about this?” Cairo asked and pulled away from our passionate kiss. “If I get started, I’m warning you now, I won’t be able to stop.”

  “I would kill you if you stopped, even now. Just shut up and take me back to your place,” I replied and stood on my tippy toes for another kiss.

  His hand was wrapped in my hair and firmly fixed to the back of my neck, his other hand was on my back and I felt completely and utterly at home in his arms.

  “Yes ma’am,” he said and kissed me again. I felt him lift me up off the ground and press me against the back of a storage container. We weren’t far from the staff concession where we’d left ten minutes ago, but hadn’t been able to keep our hands off each other.

  I climbed him like a spider monkey, finally knowing what it felt like to hang off a man who could hold me like I weighed nothing. I loved it, floating along in his arms as he moved us towards his RV.

  We managed to somehow find it in the midst of groping, kissing and playful banter. I dropped to the ground as he fished for his keys, maybe we weren’t that coordinated after all. Certainly not worthy of a side show, and I was no contortionist.

  I forced the pang of jealousy to the back of my head and focused on the now. The fact that this gorgeous, intelligent, hilarious man wanted me, and I wanted him. We were into each other and nobody else in the world mattered.

  He got the door open, picked me up and carried me into his space. He kicked it shut and leaned to lock it. It was so quiet I could almost hear the sound of my own heart pounding in my chest and his matching rhythm.

  He kissed me, and all I heard was the soft sigh of his breath as he moaned against my lips and tongue. I could feel his hard cock pressing through his pants against my leg. My tight red dress began to ride up even further as he pulled me higher against him, my legs wrapping around him instinctively now.

  He pulled back and said into my ear, “I wanted to tear this off you the moment I saw you in it. I was so hard and ready to fuck you right there in wardrobe, did you know that?”

  “I had a suspicion,” I said and giggled as he nibbled my neck. He backed into his living room and sat down on his low, leather sofa. I faced him, straddled him and let him continue to trail kisses and nibbles down my neck.

  “I had to leave or I wouldn’t be able to control myself,” he told me in between kisses and bites. “I came back here and I jerked off, thinking about you in this dress.”

  “Are you serious?” I said and smiled. The thought of him wanting me that badly made me feel so powerful, so exotic and desired. I pulled the hair tie from his head, released his thick mane and wrapped my fingers in it. “That’s so fucking hot,” I said, “can you show me now?”

  “You want me to masturbate in front of you?” he asked, seemingly surprised by my bold request. I even surprised myself with my desire. He thought about it and finally said, “Only if you touch yourself for me.”

  I agreed, so I inched down his thighs towards his knees, placed my feet up on the sofa and exposed my pussy to him. His sharp intake of breath was all I needed for encouragement. I pushed my panties to the side and slid my own finger along my slit and found my clit. I was soaking wet.

  “Your turn,” I said and moved my finger up and down slowly, sensually. His eyes didn’t move off my little show as he unzipped his jeans. He pushed his underwear and pants down just enough for his magnificent cock to pop out.

  It was my turn to be mesmerized, it was bigger than I remembered and seeing it exposed, pierced and thick and veiny, turned me on more than I could have imagined.

  “Play with your clit,” he said and stroked his cock, fisted the head and gripped the shaft. “Show me your beautiful cunt.”

  I obliged, I spread myself wider and he growled, took his other hand and palmed my pussy. He slid a finger inside of me and began to finger fuck me slowly, matching the pace of his own stroking.

  “Cai,” I whispered and looked at his face, “this is crazy, it’s so hot.”

  “It is, beautiful girl,” he replied and stared into my eyes, “do you know why?”

  “No,” I said and bit my lower lip. I pushed a little harder on my clit and could feel my pleasure intensify.

  “Because of you,” he said, “you do this to me, to us. You make all of this so fucking sexy, it almost hurts.” His breath grew ragged and he increased his pace, both on his cock and inside of me.

  I threw my head back and felt as though I were going to fall, I was so high on the energy of the moment. I sat up again and watched him play with us both, decided right then and there that this was the sexiest fucking thing I’d seen in m
y life.

  “I want to come again,” I begged him, “the way you made me come before.”

  “You will,” he said, “but wait until I tell you.”

  I felt a jolt of pleasure snake through my spine at his command. I moved my finger against my clit and didn’t break eye contact with him. He leaned forward and kissed me, slipping his tongue against mine as he fucked me with his finger. I wasn’t even aware of his cock any longer, such was the self-centeredness of my own masturbation.

  I gasped as he curled his finger upwards, he hit a spot I’d not felt before. I jumped each time he passed roughly across it, and fingered my clit and felt my orgasm building again.

  How was it that he had this control over me? How did he manage to make me feel this loose and free with my joy when nobody else had ever gotten close, not even myself?

  “Come for me,” he ordered and stopped moving his finger. He applied steady pressure on the inside of me and I raked my finger over my clit, found the sensitive bundle of nerves I’d been seeking and increased my motion.

  I was panting by the time I got to where I wanted to be. “That’s it, beautiful girl,” Cairo said, his voice deep and commanding, “come on my finger, let me feel your sweet juice all over me.”

  I obeyed, something that had been dammed inside of me let go. I sobbed with the overwhelming emotion that it brought out of me, and shuddered my gasping, panting orgasm against him. I clung to him, seeking something solid in the midst of the wave upon wave that washed over me, threatening to drag me under with its force.

  My pussy fluttered and finally clenched a final release and I felt a shock of horror as I gushed all over his hand, unable to control myself.

  “Oh my god,” I panted, “what was that? I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t apologize,” he said and held me against him as he slowly removed his hand from where he’d been cupping my pussy. “That was natural, normal and fucking exquisite.”