God Hand - Joker

Author's Note: A reviewer asked me to continue this story, and in the spirit of the holiday, I decided I wanted to do another chapter.

"Mistress! I created a new act for my shows! Wanna see?"

Olivia bounded with exuberance over to her ringleader Shannon, her breasts bouncing all about in her new jester's attire. It was a simple, albeit necessary, alteration to the tight design of her costume splayed in a patchwork of red, white and black. Replacing her diamond tit window, deep cleavage exaggerated the natural size and sway of her bust into the laughable pair she always knew she had. Her master's approval marked the beginning of a new path for her to tread, and as she reached Shannon, she held the unused balloon high.

Shannon sighed, resting her wand against her shoulder. "This better be good, joker slut. The last one you showed me was a complete bore."

"You'll love this one!" Her ringleader seated before her on a circus stand, Olivia turned and bent forward. Deftly, her hand moved to position the balloon to her waiting pucker. With the plastic opening ring rubbing between her cheeks, she prepared herself, and-

"OW!" Olivia cried as she felt the harsh smack of her mistress' wand bear down on her ass.

"You idiot!" Shannon snarled. "There's a difference between a good joke and a sick one. If you're going to be a part of my troupe, you should know that. Even whores have standards."

The shamed blush of Olivia's face slowly faded, the red tear tattoos beneath her eyes returning to prominence. "But mistress! You never taught me that lesson!"

"Oh I haven't?" The demon's hips cocked to the side as she stood, hands snaking their way around to her assistant's back. She groped Olivia's bubbly butt cheek in her free hand, rubbing her thighs at the anguished moan that came from Olivia's lips at the slightest touch to her reddened rump. "Here, let me show you."

"Mistress... UNGH!" She throbbed around the large, smooth shaft at the end of Shannon's wand as it invaded. In a sparkle and dazzle of pink light, she felt rings of energy form around her neck. With constriction came form, pink banding together into solidity. A jingle and a burst of light signaled the end of it, and in giddy interest, her fingers rubbed her new accessory. "What is it! What is it!"

Shannon sneered, "What do you think? You need a trainer, and it won't do to let you wander around, so I gave you a collar."

The tag dangled with a bell at the pink collar's front, engraved on three levels. Her official title as Shannon's property showed to the world beneath her name: Olivia, joker slut. Branded by her ringleader, Olivia darted her hands toward her crotch. Her fingers nearly managed to touch the burning heat that came with her proof of place, only to feel another swirl of pink around her wrists and ankles. As the new cuffs came into being, a chain forced them closer, until she fell on her hands and knees.

"Mistress!" Olivia whined.

"Quiet! Do you know what day tomorrow is?"

"Umm...." the initial blank she drew cleared away, her long brown hair tumbling over her shoulders as she raised her head. "Oh! April Fool's!"

"That's right my little joker slut," Shannon smiled, planting the heel of her boot on the crown of Olivia's head. The lustful glare her pet gave her clothed mound made her nipples poke against her top. "Tomorrow's a very special day. I've already sent an invitation for your boy Gene. When I've finished whipping him into shape, you'll get to watch him take me for a wild ride while he has a nice, big laugh at what a fool you are. Aren't you excited?"

The now familiar smell of Olivia's lust filled Shannon's nostrils, the strips of cloth that made up the joker slut's skirt already slipping off as the glue lost its bond to her juices. "Don't cream your panties yet, sweetie. You're not ready yet, so I brought a special trainer."

The question was on the tip of Olivia's tongue when she groaned at the press of another heel against her upraised ass. The instant her mistress freed her head to move, she looked back to the new arrival and knew in an instant who she was.

Conchita. The woman snapped her whip to show her dominance, donning the odd red and pink-striped mask over her head. Her fingers slipped into Olivia's new pink collar, yanking the woman closer. "This is the Godhand's slut? Nice work breaking her in."

"I like to think of myself as an artist," Shannon gloated. Briefly glancing over her green fingernails, she bent down to Olivia and brought her face to face. "You're great, but I don't have time to waste working on a bad joke. I need to get ready for tomorrow's show. Conchita here will fill in for me and get you in tip top shape. Enjoy a little rough time with your new trainer."

"Yes mistress!" Olivia called, hair tousled in Shannon's hands as a parting gesture. Fond memories of her last 'fight' with Gene filled her mind, eyes enraptured by the brief peeks at Shannon's ass that the flap of her jacket afforded in the demon turning away. Her mistress shrinking in the distance, her fantasy broke when the crack of a whip ripped through her ear.

"That's enough of a break," Conchita's breasts jiggled with the slightest flick of her wrist. "Down to the basics. Lick me."

A slow ambling turn in her chains later, Olivia found her face pressed hard against a wide bush of red pubes. Of all the observations she made, tongue foraging through the thicket and digging into Conchita's loins, the first one Olivia came to was the oddest. Her eyes remained fixed on the black roots of Conchita's hairs that gave away their current color as a dye job, her nose rubbing at one end of Conchita's slit. The whip's snap on her bare buttock added heat to her arousal, a moan forcing its way out.

"You call that a tongue-lashing? Don't make me laugh. Deeper! Stronger! That mouth is going to be good for more than telling a couple stale punchlines when I'm through with you."

Her face was absolutely buried in the woman's mound, slick juices running down her chin. Loud slurps betrayed her eagerness to taste and passion to please. Up to her nose in her trainer's luscious scent, Olivia longed for Conchita to coat her in silent approval.

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Gene stepped into the circus tent for his third time. God Hand gripping the invite, he looked at the drawn display again.


Masochysterical
GENE
Join us for Masochysterical!
April Fool's Day special!
See the world's sluttiest joke, stay for the ringmaster encore!


Between the advertising banner and the words "Cirque Du Sadique Jester," Gene took in the drawn image of Olivia.

She showed her ass in sepia tones, her 'Kick Me!' tattoo on proud display beside her latest additions. Her other buttcheek scrawled out a simple 'Spank Me!', both paired with tattooed lipstick kisses of her ringleader beneath them. Bent over Shannon's knee, Olivia's smile brimmed wide toward the viewer as her ringleader's hand reared back for another swat.

Jarred by the reminder of Shannon's depravity, Gene crumpled the invite in his hand and tossed it aside. "That's it. I'm here. Where are you you evil bitch!"

"Right here!" Leaping off the circus stand, Olivia's feet dug into the giant rubber ball. Arms flailing, she made of show of her lack of balance as she rolled closer toward him. By her own direction, her bosom swayed and bounced in the confines of her low-cut costume, a careful manipulation of gravity to bring out the most extreme caricature of their size. At last to her man, she unsteadily stood on a single leg and toppled at his feet.

"Wow, she really did a number on you," Offering his help, Gene took Olivia's hands in his and pulled her to her feet. Her eyes dazzled, and her teeth sparkled with her grin. "Let's go."

"Wait! Don't you want to play with my fun bags?" Under her guidance, Olivia led Gene's hands to cup her breasts. The rough pattern of his fingers over her soft, pillowy goodness made her giggle, glee rising as they journeyed into her cleavage. All he could seem to do was stare uncertainly at the bounty offered. Her one-man audience enraptured by her setup, it was time to deliver the punchline.

"Hey Gene, do you know why they're called funbags?"

"Uhhh...."

"They're a gas!"

"What?" His confusion cleared with his hacking coughs, as a thick stream of pink smoke erupted from the cups of Olivia's costume. Stepping back, he waved his hand into the dense cloud, the face of his old partner coming back into view as the cloud thinned.

"Hehe, did you like that?" Olivia wrapped her hands together, pressing them to the side of her head as she cocked it. "I have to air them out every now and then or else they'll-"

Her breasts appeared to grow on cue, ballooning larger, wider, longer. The rub of plastic on leather sounded out, the top of her suit stretching thin, the jiggling flesh of her bosom cutting into her cleavage line. Appearing several times larger than normal, Olivia cried out. "Help Gene!"

"I... I..." His numb inaction turned to alarm when Olivia's expression changed from open-mouthed shock to grinning glee. He'd been tricked. Before he could back away, Olivia's cups exploded in a massive burst of pink smoke and... confetti?

"Aww, my costume's ruined. Guess I can't do that trick anymore." Olivia's teasing whine accompanied the eventual sight of her hands kneading her bare, exposed tits. "At least I caught you by surprise, and I still have the rest of my... wait." Spying a loose thread poking out, Olivia hiked up her skirt. The reveal of her red panties came shortly before she tugged on the loose thread that ripped circles off that very same fabric. As her brown pubes began to show from the unraveling, an active Gene stepped forward.

"That's enough Olivia, I'm taking you outta here."

"Ah ah, can't let you do that, Godhand!"

The leathery whip wrapped around his wrists faster than he could blink, quickly tugged over his head. A glance back caught the familiar Conchita in his peripherals holding the line taut, just as he felt a hand snaking on his chest.

"She's my puppet now," Shannon cooed in his ear. "I bet it's been pretty lonely, without your errand whore. Ready to try a round with something other than your Godhand?"

"What happened to all that talk about there being only one queen?"

"Ah, I brought Conchita in to re-train Olivia. Seems my little joker slut wasn't clear on what makes for a good performance." As if to taunt the Godhand, Shannon spun just so to make her coattails fly up, briefly flashing him the sight of her maroon thong. Strutting back toward Olivia, she peered down at the jester, wicked smirk noting her delight. "Something wrong sweetie?"

Her chestnut bush sopped with her need, the small red thread creeping between her folds. Amidst her heavy tugs and grunts on the line, Olivia glanced up to her mistress. "It's stuck!"

"Here, let me help you." In seconds, Shannon had her jester presenting her ass. That luscious rump swung in wait, and as Shannon wrapped the thread in her hands, she pulled back and planted a strong kick to Olivia's prompting tattoo.

"AH!" Olivia yelped.

"This is really stuck, isn't it?" Shannon teased. "I'll have to hit a little harder this time."

No amount of bracing herself could prepare Olivia for the sharp blow or the audible pop as what had lodged inside her cunt hung on the line in Shannon's hands. Jumping upright, Olivia's perky tits bounced as she snatched the long, thin rod from her mistress. "My jester wand! I was looking everywhere for it."

"Take a little tip sweetie, remember to put your toys away before you put your panties back on." Shannon sauntered back to the Godhand, caressing his muscled biceps while he struggled against Conchita's whip in vain. "How are you holding up back there?" A perverse ploy greeted Shannon's eyes in checking on Olivia's trainer, bringing a salacious smile to her maroon lips.

Conchita held the whip handle tight, the leather cord running from just behind her ass and between her legs to reach the Godhand's wrists. Every minor struggle and flinch from Gene made the rough cord slip back and forth against her sex, slickness damping the line. The small tug-of-war between the trainer and the Godhand showed a devilishly cunning mind behind Conchita's weird mask.

Yet just as she began to admire the whip-wielder, Shannon picked up on the frustrated gripes of her foolish puppet. She looked on with glee, Olivia pumping her jester wand inside her sopping cunt. Or at least, trying to. Every time she shoved the wand deeper, it bent right as she grazed the tiny point she sought. Relief eluded her like a twisting, turning wind. Whenever she came just within reach of tapping the key to a blissful orgasm, the handle snaked off the point to uncomfortably jab another and make her pop up with a squeal. Sent into a blinding lust-fury, she rammed it in and out, the alarming force undone as the handle went lax. Soon, she found her pussy assaulted with the slow, agonizing grind of fighting an uphill battle toward her goal. For every light tingle to the entrance of her slit, Olivia felt her true target lost to her wand's flexible state.

Blessed with the sight, Shannon laughed. "Isn't she a special girl? She can't even pleasure herself without making herself look like a complete idiot. What kind of woman uses a wand the size of a twig on something that big?" Shaking her ass softly, she followed up with a flirty cup and grope of Gene's crotch. "I bet you're different. You know how to pleasure a woman, don't you Godhand?"

After seizing up at the demon bitch's touch, Gene came back down into her embrace. Her lips inched closer, brushing against his cheek and trailing to his mouth. She was one small peck away...

"That's true, but you don't count as a woman, do you?"

"What?!" Shannon's nostril-flared snarl came seconds into a harsh kick to her stomach, the demon bitch flying back into the cage at the tent's center. The initial shock of the throw faded in time for her to watch as the Godhand whipped his arms forward, undoing the one tie that bound him to watch Olivia's corrupted acts.

A jerk of Conchita's whip sent her sailing toward Gene, the cord running from mound to tits in tight, confining wraps. Forced to tip-toes by the handle in Gene's hands, she moaned into the Godhand's face. "Ooooohh.... not fair. Release me."

"I'll give you a release all right."

Conchita's vision blurred in the rapid motion of the Godhand thrusting her about. When the room stopped spinning, she found her stomach pressed into the Godhand's knee, the cups of her bodice cut loose to reveal the perky pink nubs jutting out on her voluminous breasts. Her wrists tied tight behind her back, she failed to withhold a raunchy moan when the first hard smack made her pussy squish with arousal.

"This is what happens to bad girls who don't play nice," Gene assaulted the costumed woman's ass with a flurry of spanks, watching as a sheen of sweat formed over her naked breasts. Tiny droplets flew from the ends of the caps, her mask shifting off to show her ruffled dyed red hair in a shade softer than her dark red eyes. His final swat left her dazzled, and rolling her off his knee, he pointed at the demon bitch.

"You're next."

"Mmmm, I better be. It's about time I found a guy who knew how to pleasure a woman." Shannon leapt on the Godhand, legs splayed wide in her descent. With her pussy on a direct course for the Godhand's face, her smirk turned to wide-mouthed dread as she saw the Godhand rip off his arm's metal binding and rear back.

Unrelenting, his fist pounded its way into the demon bitch's exposed snatch, ripping its way through the thin maroon fabric of her poor excuse for a thong. Her mix of howls and moans cascaded along the tent's cloth walls, Shannon's wand flailing in her arm as she cried out, "Oh! Pain!"

With every jab and hook of the God Hand, Gene went in for a deeper blow, the whore's cries of lust providing an inkling of remorse and a pound of incentive. Shannon's legs spared little time in splaying the target wider, her demon wetness coating from Gene's wrist to elbow. A last explosion of strength from the arm brought Shannon's red hot loins to orgasm. Her body quaked and burned in lust. Ripping away her coat, she unveiled her naked, green-tattooed body, her smaller tits ending in uncommon maroon nipples. Exhausted by the Godhand's attack, Shannon merely lay panting on the ground as the Godhand picked her up.

"That was... quite a show," she called. "You made my pussy numb. I can't wait for the... main attraction."

"Sorry Shannon, I'll have to say no to that one. You're more of a joke than Olivia could ever be, but I think I know something just right for you."

Puzzled, Shannon fell next to Olivia's trainer as the Godhand once again took up Conchita's whip. The short reprieve from her sexual hunger flared up as the cords dug into her naked flesh, her face mashed into the brimming dyed red bush of Conchita's sex at the same time she felt the woman's mouth pressed against her own. She squirmed on top of the red dominatrix to no avail, their limbs wrapped around one another, her hands caressing Conchita's bosom as she felt a similar pair groping and tweaking hers.

The two women bound together in a quivering ball of sex, Gene tossed the last of the whip over a high cage railing and hoisted the pair higher, tying his end to the nearest pole. "Now that's what I call a good performance."

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Gene rubbed his shoulder, hand turning the knob to their hotel room. The door swung open, and with the blinding sunlight pouring in through the windows, his head bounced back ever so slightly as a small white ball shattered against his forehead.

"What the hell?!"

"Hey Gene! How do you like my ping pong ball trick?" Olivia cheerfully asked. Spread-eagle, she shot another ball from her loins and giggled when he unwittingly caught it in his God Hand.

"At least you're not nagging me to do things for you anymore," Gene remarked.

"Think again," her collar's tag sparkled in the sun, her jester suit flowing with her movements. "There's some guys downtown I want you to deal with. On your way back, I want you to get some supplies for me here."

Taking the note from Olivia, Gene stared at the store's name. "You want me to pick up a few things from a sex store?"

"If I'm going to come up with new acts, I need more props. The little devil said that's everything I need for this great cunt stunt she knows."

"Little devil?" He jumped back a little when the small winged demon pixie flew from Olivia's loins and set down on her shoulder. "Oh, that little devil."

"You better hurry," Olivia demanded, turning to show her ass to him. "If you take too long, I might not let you spank the jester tonight."

"Heh, you got it Olivia."

"Great! Have fun, while I have mine. This jester wand is bound to let me get off one of these days." Teasing Gene with a wave, she laid against the bed and grabbed her wand. The sight of her shoving it inside her was the last she gave the Godhand as he left, door shutting to a small hinting of moans.

Standing at the stairs, Gene slammed his fist against the wall. "All that with Shannon, and Olivia comes back even more of a psycho bitch!"