chapter eight
johnny
Unholy Meat Obelisk - Istasha
T he spiders skitter around, their tiny legs tapping against the stage floor, moving in perfect sync with the gasps and moans of the fucking freaks in the crowd. Standing off to the side, I let the cirkies do their part as I watch the scene unfold with a manic grin painted across my face. The misfits in the audience eat it up, eyes wide and begging for more as they finally get a taste of the desires they’ve denied themselves.
Like the desire I have been denying.
Indie.
She’s all I’ve thought about since I watched her and Lux on the bus earlier, tangled together in something dark and perfect. The way her body moved and Lux looked at her all proud and possessive—it was like watching her bloom into something I’d been waiting to see since the day she joined us, and fuck if I don’t want to see her pretty poisonous petals open up for me the way they do for him.
Now, every fiber of me wants a taste of her sweet and forbidden nectar, despite knowing who she belongs to, and knowing I can never have her.
I fucking hate wanting what I can’t have.
I can’t touch, but I sure as fuck can look.
The cirkies have the spider show under control. They don’t need me here. Besides, the thrill isn’t hitting me like it usually does. My attention keeps drifting, my fingers itching for something else. Something darker. I want more, and I want to see what Indie’s been up to.
I’m curious as to how the Dark Queen’s night is unfolding.
“Keep this going,” I snap at one of the cirkies. He nods quickly, eyes darting to the crowd as they cheer on the writhing bodies covered in spiders. I turn away without another word.
The moment I step out to the main part of the tent, the energy changes. The chaos has spread. All around me, freaks and perverts are indulging in their darkest fantasies.
It’s a fucking carnival of filth and I love it.
As I make my way through the madness, I catch sight of Sydney and the other ballerinas. Their pointed knives slice through a woman’s flesh as she’s strapped to a chair, her body jerking with each cut. The crowd around them roars in approval, some too high on whatever Lux laced into their drinks to fully grasp what’s happening. Others? They’re getting off on it. Touching themselves and each other as the bitch’s pleasure filled cries echo around them.
A group of horny people, customers and cirkies alike nearby are tangled in an orgy, limbs intertwined as they roll on the ground, moaning and clawing at each other.
There’s no shame here at Cirque Du Desir. No fucking boundaries, just a mess of flesh, desperation and carnal need.
They’re a writhing mass of bodies, glistening with sweat, their limbs tangled together in a frenzy of primal need. I watch, groping my hardened cock through my pants as hands roam freely, fingers grip at skin, and nails dig deep into flesh as they claw at each other. These fuckers are desperate to connect. Dying to consume. Moans and gasps rise above the low hum of the surrounding havoc, blending with the distant beat of the DJs music that pulses through the tent.
One woman is on her knees, head thrown back, her huge tits heaving as a man behind her thrusts with unrestrained hunger. The bitches mouth hangs open in a silent scream of pleasure, eyes glazed and unfocused as another man in front of her grips her red hair, pulling her head down onto him. She doesn’t resist; like the little slut she is, she’s lost in riding the waves of her own release.
Beside them, two other little sluts are locked together, their hands exploring every curve and crevice of each other as their mouths bite, and suck. One of them grips the other’s thigh, lifting it to grind against her, both of them slick with sweat and arousal. Their moans mix with the sounds of flesh slapping against flesh, a filthy, erotic symphony that sends jolts of excitement right to my cock.
I rub myself harder over my jeans. “Fucking hell.”
Nearby, a man with his face twisted in ecstasy, has a woman straddled across his chest as her hands grip his shoulders and she rides him. My lips pull into a smirk when I see another man behind him reach around, groping and stroking the length of his thick cock.
“Fuck yeah! This shit is a fucking madhouse of pleasure and pain. I love this shit!” I shout, my tone raspy as my own need intensifies as I watch the insanity around me.
They roll together, bodies sliding over one another, mouths finding anything to taste—skin, sweat, saliva—lost in the haze of lust and madness. There’s no sense of individuality anymore; they’ve become a singular, heaving beast, writhing and thrashing in the dirt, uncaring of who is touching who, as long as it satisfies their insatiable hunger for more.
It’s chaos .
Pure, unrestrained, filthy anarchy, and I can’t help but feel a sick thrill pulse through me as I take it all in.
I push through the crowds, eager to see what else I’ve been missing. Carlos towers over a row of bodies laid out in front of him, his stilts making him look like some kind of fucked up god. The people below him—men and women—are naked and begging, mouths open wide as he pisses on them. They gulp down the warm yellow liquid like they’ve never tasted anything better, as their hands roam their bodies, spreading it all over their skin.
Fucking animals.
I continue making my way toward where I know Indie’s show is set up, eager to see just how well our little queen is handling the first night of her reign.
When I finally reach her show, the sight that greets me is enough to stop me dead in my tracks. Indie is on stage, and fuck if she isn’t magnificent. The mask, the leather, the blood... goddamn she’s owning it, commanding the pathetic needy crowd like she was born to do this.
My dick twitches at the sight of her, every inch of me wanting to be up there, watching her tear into some poor bastard while I pump my cock. She cracks her whip with precision, the snap echoing in the air like a gunshot, making the audience flinch and shiver. Every little flick of her wrist is deliberate, controlled, and she wields her power like the Dark Queen she’s become.
I stand in the back, leaning against the side of the tent, watching her command the crowd. I can barely hold back the low growl in my throat as I take in the way she’s taken control. Indie’s not just some girl playing at being in charge. She is in charge. Her eyes gleam behind her goat mask as she makes the crowd hang on her every word. She’s fucking enjoying this shit.
She’s getting turned on by it all, and fuck if that doesn’t have me ready to explode.
I glance to my left and catch sight of a man dressed like a baby. He’s sitting on the floor, sobbing into a ragged brown teddy bear, his whole body shaking as he watches Indie. He’s here for the Bunny Babysitter show, no doubt. A show that I still don’t fucking understand but yet makes us a killing.
His soft, muffled sobs get on my nerves as I watch him suck away on his stupid fucking pacifier like it’s the only thing keeping him from falling apart.
“Shut the fuck up,” I mutter under my breath, glaring down at him.
But the idiot keeps going, forced tears rolling down his face, his cheeks puffed out like he’s waiting for some mommy figure to come along and wipe his nose. Thanks to the drugs Lux has the bartenders add to the drinks, he’s so far into his pathetic little fantasy that he probably doesn’t even realize Bunny Babysitter isn’t here—her shows on the other side of the fucking tent.
It’s fucking pitiful, but there’s something about it, something twisted and perverted about a grown ass man crawling around and sobbing that makes me pause.
I grin. Yeah, I can fuck with this.
The crowd’s too caught up in their own little worlds of depravity to notice me as I slip closer to him. His whole body is shaking, one hand clutching that ragged bear while the other fumbles with his adult diaper. Jesus, this guy’s a fucking mess. This is one fucking kink I never understood, but shit, I’m not here to judge. Fuck knows I have a few questionable kinks of my own. I crouch beside him, leaning in close, letting my breath hit his ear. “You like what you see, huh?”
He jumps, startled, but when his eyes meet mine, they’re filled with pure desperation, like he’s waiting for someone to tell him what to do. I can work with that.
“How ‘bout I help you out?” I whisper, letting my hand rest on his shoulder, doing my best to play the perfect care giver role this fucker craves. “I’ll take care of you. You just gotta be a good boy for me, okay?”
He sniffles and nods, but doesn’t say anything, just sobs harder. Standing, I take a seat in a wooden chair, as I look down on him. His whole body trembles, his eyes lighting up with excitement as I pull out his pacifier, and shove my fingers into his mouth. He sucks on them automatically, moaning with pleasure like the broken little freak he is.
I glance back up at Indie, my eyes burning into her as she turns, snapping the whip again. Her subject, some naked fool on his knees, in front of her with a raging hard on, flinches as the leather cracks just above his head. He’s so fucked from the liquor and drugs coursing through his veins that he’s begging her for more.
The heat pooling inside me is unbearable, and the man baby’s tongue swirling around my thick fingers is only adding to it. I’m rock hard, my cock straining against my pants so fucking much it hurts. Fuck this shit, I can’t take it anymore.
I pull my fingers from his lips, and his sobs return, only this time louder. My patience snaps, replaced by a darker, more primal need. I’m too fucking horny for this shit. I grab him by the back of his neck and yank him into my lap. He squirms, and moans against me, trying to cling to that ragged teddy bear like it’s his last defense, but I’m not having it.
“Shh it’s okay. Daddy Johnny just wants to play,” I growl, my lips curling into a wicked grin. His eyes go wide beneath stupid mask black mask he was given. His body trembles against mine, but I can feel it—the way he’s pressing into me, the way he’s twitching. He’s scared , caught off guard by my aggression, but he wants it. They always do.
I take my time, unzipping my jeans slowly, letting the piece of shit hear the sound of the zipper dragging down. His whole body quivers beneath me, caught somewhere between terror and twisted desire. It’s fucking exciting. With one hand, I spit into my palm and smear it over my hard cock, coating my entire girth in a slick layer of saliva.
He’s going to fucking need it.
“Shh, baby,” I whisper mockingly, sliding my hand over his thigh. “Don’t cry. Daddy Johnny is gonna make it all better. That’s what you want, isn’t it? For Daddy to make you feel good?”
His head dips in a slow, trembling nod, eyes locked on mine, pleading. He wants this, even if he’s too pussy to say it. I can feel it in the way his breath stutters, the way his hands clench at his sides like he’s trying to hold himself back. But he fucking craves it—needs me to take control and give him what he’s too weak to ask for. I drag my fingers down his arm, watching the shiver that runs through him.
Ah, fuck. He’s all mine now.
I don’t give him a chance to adjust as I shove myself inside him, and the scream that tears from his throat is fucking music to my goddamn ears. He screeches, a sound so shrill and broken it makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up. But underneath that, there’s something else—a low, filthy fucking moan that’s buried beneath his cries. His body bucks against me, his hips pushing back, craving to take more of me.
The sick bastard wants it.
I laugh, deep and low, gripping his waist as I thrust harder. His screams turn into strangled gasps, his voice cracking like a child throwing a tantrum. But his hand… his hand is wrapped around himself, jerking his tiny cock furiously in rhythm with me.
“How’s that, baby? Hmm? Does that feel good? Yeah? You like when Daddy Johnny fucks you, don’t you?”
“Yes. Yes I like that Daddy,” he grunts. “I’m such a good boy for you. Please don’t stop. Baby likes it very much.”
His hips meet mine with every thrust, his whole body strung tight, like he’s on the edge of breaking but can’t get enough of the pain.
“Fuck yeah. Such a good boy. This is what you wanted, isn’t it. This is what you needed.” I snarl, thrusting deeper, feeling him clench around me. “You like Daddy’s dick in your tight little ass.”
His moans grow louder, his sobs mixing with hunger filled gasps. The teddy bear falls from his hands as he reaches back, gripping my thighs, pulling me in. His body shakes with every thrust, but he’s not trying to get away. Not anymore. Now he’s drowning in the pain and the twisted pleasure, his face contorted in a mix of agony and need.
“That's it,” I groan, pushing harder, faster. “Take it. Fucking take my cock.”
His body jerks violently, his whole frame twitching as he reaches his own release, a guttural moan escaping his lips as jets of white come shoot into the air, coating the crowd of people. I feel his puckered hole tighten around me, and the sensation sends a shudder through me. He’s a pathetic mess on my lap, his body quaking as his head falls back against my chest and his fake pitiful whining starts again almost instantly.
Fucking hell, he’s like some broken, helpless little man child that doesn’t know when the game is fucking over. His high-pitched, whimpering cries pierce through my skull, grating on every nerve I’ve got left.
“Will you shut the fuck up,” I snarl, shoving him off me. He hits the floor with a thud, rolling onto his side like the useless lump he is. His face contorts, a fresh round of sobbing starting up, his hands reaching out for something.
That’s when I see it—the pathetic, ragged teddy bear clutched tightly in his fingers.
“Oh, is this what you want?” I sneer, bending down to snatch the filthy bear from his grasp. He immediately reaches for it, his eyes wide and pleading behind that stupid baby mask. The desperation in his expression makes my lip curl.
“Look at you. Fucking pathetic,” I say, holding the teddy just out of reach. “Crying over this piece of shit? You want it so bad, huh? Well, you’re gonna have to work for it. You have to be a good little boy and finish what you started for Daddy.”
I grab him by the back of the neck, dragging him between my legs and shoving his face into my groin. His breath comes in sharp, panicked gasps, but he doesn’t resist—he wouldn’t dare.
“Lick,” I command, keeping my voice low and dangerous. "You want your fucking bear? Then be a good boy and lick .”
He hesitates for a second, and I tighten my grip on his neck, pushing his face harder against me.
“Do it!” I growl. “Or I’ll make you regret it.”
The man baby’s tongue finally darts out, hesitant at first, but then he starts licking, his soft, pathetic sobs muffled against my flesh as his tongue works in slow, sloppy strokes. The sensation of his humiliation, the utter degradation, makes my cock harder.
“That’s a good boy,” I coo mockingly, rubbing the teddy bear against myself. “Keep going. Maybe if you’re a really good boy, I’ll let you have your little friend back.”
He whimpers, his whole body shaking as he flicks my nuts with his heated tongue, but he doesn’t fucking stop. He’s enjoying this shit as much as I am. It’s why he came here. To be used and abused like nothing, and fuck, he’s lucky it’s me who found him. Not everyone would be as generous as I have been. Around us, I can feel the weight of people watching, their eyes glued to the sick display unfolding. Some avert their gaze in disgust, but most... most are fucking transfixed. This is what they came here for, after all.
The depravity, the chaos.
I start grinding into the bear as my hand clenches the back of the man baby’s head, guiding him as his tongue works at me. His whines vibrate against my skin. The more he licks, the harder I fucking get, the sick and twisted pleasure of it all builds in me as I thrust harder into the worn fuzzy fabric of his precious teddy.
“You like that, don’t you?” I taunt, glancing down at him. His eyes lift to mine, and he nods slightly. “You’re such a fucking good boy for your Daddy. Begging for your little bear while you’re down there licking my balls.”
His sobbing grows louder, but his tongue keeps moving, desperate to please me. The people around us are shifting, some murmuring under their breath, others touching themselves like the fucking freaks they are as they watch. I see their fucking lust, their twisted interest, and pushes me closer. Makes me grind harder into the bear, as the friction brings me closer to release.
Then I look up—and there she is.
Indie.
The dark fucking goddess.
She’s on stage, cracking her whip like the queen she is, commanding every eye in the room. For just a second, our gazes lock, and her eyes gleam behind her mask with wicked pleasure. It’s like she knows exactly what I’m doing.
She knows, and fuck, she loves it.
The man baby whines louder, his body quivering beneath me, his hand wrapped around himself again as he pumps and he tries to keep up with my pace, but I’m done with him. With one final thrust into the bear, I come, stuffing it full with a low, guttural growl and my eyes locked with Indie’s across the chaos.
“Fuck yes,” I groan as I ride the euphoric high.
The release is intoxicating, but the whimpering little freak beneath me is still at it, licking and crying, like he thinks this’ll get him what he wants.
“Enough,” I snap, shoving him back. He falls to the floor, his sobs growing louder now that he’s been deprived of the bear.
“You want it so bad?” I sneer, tossing the now-ruined teddy bear at him. “There. Take it.”
The man baby scrambles across the dirt floor naked for the bear, clutching it to his chest like it’s the only thing in the world that matters. My come seeps out of it, dripping down his bare chest as he cuddles into it. I shake my head, disgusted, but my gaze drifts back to Indie, and find her eyes fixated on me.
She knows I’m watching her. Knows that every twisted thing I just did was for her as much as it was for me, and fuck, if that doesn’t have my cock hardening all over again.