Le Cirque des Fétiches

The maîtresse de cérémonie stood in the middle of the room with a long-handled whip, as tall as she, held in her right hand, the thong and popper of which, combined, were of the same length as the handle. Long black hair, dark red lips, blood red nails made the first impression on the viewer. Her black eye make-up set off her blue eyes that watched everything, every maneuver; each subtle glance making sure that the entire performance was exact. She wore satin shorts, a satin jacket, black stockings and six-inch black patent leather platform heels. During the performances, she used her whip selectively, mostly for noise, to emphasize direction, to assure goal were met, to assure a perfect performance, and, truth be told, to reinforce who was boss. It had been bought from a circus, when whips went out of fashion as a tool of less enlightened times. For this time, and place, it was perfect.

The audience was made up of connoisseurs, dilettantes who appreciated the subtleties of the performance, and, who had, perhaps, brought protégés they were initiating, or fellow-travelers, who had heard of the famous show and wanted to see it themselves, to savor the emotion, the tension of the most exquisite show of its type in the world. The characters were mostly stock, familiar to habitués, perhaps a little mysterious to the uninitiated.

First, as always, was the Straight Man, trained over many years, his part was the first among equals, the most important for setting the tone for the show. A fairly average looking male, with brown thinning hair, hiding his nakedness as best he could from the prying eyes of the crowd, stumbled with well-rehearsed movements into the ring. The lights went down and a spotlight framed him, exposing him to the leers of the jaded crowd, to the astonishment of first time attendees.

The music went down and her voice called out, “Why are you hiding your nakedness? We don’t care, that’s not what we want to see! On your knees, bitch!” and the whip cracked in the night, a spotlight flashed on her as it did, and the sound focused attention on the Straight Man, who dropped to his knees in obvious fright. Another spotlight went up, and a taller man, blonde, with a winning smile appeared as if by magic. As always, the applause went up until it filled the room. He did not acknowledge it, but, at first, kept his eyes on the Straight Man.

She allowed the applause to swell until, at just the right time, her voice filled the whole room, “Silence”! The crowd calmed down, with only the sound of some quiet crying, and rustle of frantically whispering voices, some perplexed, some comforting, until total silence reigned again, the Blonde Man walked, in his spotlight, toward the Straight Man with a confident stride, until their spotlights merged. Six inches in front of the Straight Man, who kneeled with his eyes lowered, the Blonde Haired Man stopped and waited, with a confident air and looked up into the crowd, smiling beneath his moustache, all white teeth and dimples, occasionally waving, and pointing.

“Straight Man, do you know why you are here?”

He cried out, “No, what have I done?”

Her whip broke the air again, a spotlight flashed on her each time she cracked her whip, and the Straight Man wailed again, “What have I done?”

“You lie, you know why you are here. You know what you are to do, know what you want to do. Don’t be afraid, just do it,” her voice was reasonable, but the swish of the whip accented her words, and the Straight Man sunk lower with his chin resting on his hands, clasped to his neck.

The Blonde Man smiled his confident smile, picking out neophytes in the audience for eye contact.

“Do what you want, Straight Man. Don’t worry, all these people here are witness that I compelled you.” She smiled and cracked the whip again, including the audience in her private joke.

When he didn’t move, the whip cracked again, tantalizing close. The Straight Man cringed. “Do it,” this time the whip actually touched his face, drew a small amount of blood, and the Straight Man timorously lifted his head and reached for the crotch of the Blonde Man.

“With your mouth, with your mouth,” she said, in exasperation, and the whip cut the air, but this time never contacted the Straight Man. The audience still gasped at the sound.

The Straight Man used his teeth to awkwardly open the fly of the Blonde Man. When it was open, he flicked his tongue inside and wrapped it around a strap holding a good-sized cock down and set it free, and its erection caused it to spring into the air to tremendous applause. A few of the audience got up, with their eyes averted, to leave. They were, without exception, reseated, in some cases rather firmly, and, from their seats, they glanced at the show furtively, hardly believing what they were seeing. The tip of the Blonde Man’s cock brushed the nose of the straight man. The Blonde Man kept smiling, looking at members of the audience, never looking at the Straight Man, on his knees in front of him.

The whip cracked again, the only sound in the room. “Look at him, look in his eyes as you take it!” she shouted.

The Straight Man looked up and, keeping his hands clasped behind him, slowly took the tip of the penis in front of him to his lips. The Blonde Man did not react to the Straight Man, but smiled at the audience, whose eyes were riveted on the scene below as the Straight Man nodded, up and down, slowly taking more of the dick between his lips. As the audience quieted, the sounds of his sucking could be faintly heard as he took more and more of the cock, deeper and deeper into his mouth until, as if by some magic trick, the whole cock had disappeared and the nose of the Straight Man was lost in the dark blonde pubic hair of the Blonde Man. The straight man looked in the eyes of the Blonde Man, who kept his chin up and smiled, turning first this way, then that, interacting with the audience, ignoring the Straight Man.

The Straight Man worked his way back down the shaft, slowly as the drama played out, over and over at a certain pace, until the crack of the whip quickened the it, and the Straight Man was wildly slamming his mouth up and down the shaft of the cock with feverish activity. The Blonde Man came without a sound, without changing his expression, the only indication being the frantic swallowing of the Straight Man and a drop of cum, poised on his lip. That cum drop remained as the Straight Man manually put the dick of the Blonde Man back in his pants and zipped his fly. When his fly was closed, the Blonde Man bowed to the audience and stepped out of the spotlight into the darkness. The Straight Man, with his lip, carefully scooped the drop hanging on his lip into his mouth and swallowed it. The spotlight went off to wild applause, and when another came up, the Straight Man was gone.

She bowed to the audience, pointing her whip to the ground in front of her, then she straightened, lifted her arms and the lights came up and music played wildly as four people ran out to the ring and in a choreographed dance, placed pylons at the edge of the corners and attached together with a rope festooned with ribbons and jangling bells. The effect was to create a gaily decorated track around the edges of the ring.

The lights dimmed and a spotlight came up and a fanfare played and, into the ring, onto the temporary track, high-stepped a beautiful blonde girl, with a bridle and bit, shaking her head so her pony-tail waved, pulling a two-wheeled cart with flashing, spoke wheels, on which a small man sat, holding reins attached to the bit in one hand and a whip in the other. The knees of the girl had a leather strap attached that ran from one to the other and around her neck and over the top of her head where it provided a base for a yellow plume. It was of such a length that, when one leg was on the ground, her head nodded, the other leg was pulled up a foot and a half into the air, with her knee toward the chin, so the pony girl appeared always prancing or about to start, which in turn caused the pony tail on her head to wave in time. With this restriction, the girl pulling the cart pranced around the track, wearing five-inch high heels, for all the audience to see, her pony-tail swinging on her nodding head and with a butt plug inserted which was garnished with a long, cream-colored horse’s tail which swished attractively, while the driver cracked his whip overhead and waved to the crowd. They came to a halt and a spotlight narrowed and stayed on them. Another came up in another corner of the ring, and an equally beautiful girl, with a red pony-tail waving, red plume, her red butt plug tail swishing, her knees moving in a perfect gait, came into the ring and repeated the actions of the first.