Page 8 of Maison De Fous

“Christ abandoned you a long time ago. It’s me who’s making you feel so fucking good. Me and all of my sins.”

“Don’t stop, Lux. Please.”

Her words push me over the edge. I feel her body convulse as she reaches her climax, her cries mingling with mine. I pull out, my own release coming in hot, forceful spurts as I finish on her ass. The sight of her, flushed and trembling, drives me wild. I swipe some of my release from her skin on my fingers, and shove it into her mouth, the act both possessive and primal.

“I want you to taste me coating your tongue all night long,” I murmur, my voice rough with satisfaction as I pull Indie closer, savoring the last tremors of our shared intensity.

When we’re finally done, Johnny rises from the couch and tucks himself back into his pants, his face relaxed and content. He gives me a nod, a silent acknowledgment of the scene he’s just witnessed. His eyes flick to Indie, assessing her with a mixture of interest and approval.

“Your shows never fail. Who needs porn when they have you two a few buses over,” Johnny says, his voice carrying a hint of dark amusement. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love a good Porn Hub binge, but goddamn, watching the two of you is a whole new level.”

Indie, her breath still ragged, catches her breath and shoots Johnny a defiant look. “Well, you haven’t seen anything yet,” she says, her voice edged with a blend of exhaustion and exhilaration. “Just wait for tonight, Johnny. I’m sure you’ll get all the fun andpleasureyou need.”

Johnny’s smirk widens slightly, his eyes gleaming with anticipation. “Oh, I’m counting on it. We should get out there and make sure everything is ready to go. You know how the crowd gets if they have to wait too long.”

We exchange a few practical words about the night’s setup. Johnny’s tone is focused and efficient, the weight of his role in the night’s events clear in his demeanor.

Indie and I quickly fix our costumes, the urgency of the upcoming show pressing on us. We don’t really know what to expect from tonight. Tonight’s show is unlike anything anyone’s done before. As we clean up, the excitement for the night ahead crackles in the air.

I glance at Indie, her eyes still sparkling with the afterglow of our encounter. “Is my queen ready to make history with me?” I ask, a smile tugging at my lips.

“Absolutely,” Indie replies, her voice steady and resolute. “Tonight, we’ll show them what it means to truly experience the dark.”

As we head out, the energy of the circus surrounds us, an apparent buzz of excitement. The guests, masked and ready, are eager for the anarchy we’ve promised. I can feel it—the thrill of what’s to come, the dark, exhilarating dance of lust and danger.

Tonight is going to be epic, and it’s just about to begin.

chapter five

johnny

Last Laugh - iamjakehill

The spider-themed sideshow is a sanctuary of primal fear and forbidden pleasure, and tonight, it’s all mine. My show to host. My fucking domain where I’m in control. As I step inside the air thickens with a mix of pheromones and dread that has the blood rushing right to my cock. The scent of damp earth and decay mingles with the sharp tang of sweat and fear, and fuck if it isn’t intoxicating. Ah, the sweet, sweet aroma of terror—how it tickles my senses and makes my heart dance.

Like a fine wine, just waiting to be savored.

I am too fucking excited for this shit.

The tent is dimly lit, shadows waltzing along the walls as the flickering lights duel with the encroaching darkness. The centerpiece of this delightfully macabre attraction is a massive web spun from glistening threads that catch the light in sinister glints. It stretches from corner to corner, a sprawling, intricate pattern that seems to pulse with its own dark and depraved heartbeat.

The center ofmyweb. So fucking splendidly grotesque.

I take a deep breath, letting the intoxicating mix of fear and arousal hit me full force. This isn’t just a show—this is a nightmare made real, a twisted fantasy for those who are like me and are brave enough to admit what really turns them on. You can see it in their eyes, beneath those masks. Some came here because they wanted a thrill. Others? Well, they came for something darker. Something more primal. A wild desire to be wrapped up in this web, with spiders crawling over them, and sinking their venomous little fangs into their flesh.

I strut through the tent, that greasy curtain of dark hair brushing against my collarbone, the clown mask swinging from my hand. I’m in full costume tonight—black suit, open with no tie. Why would I button up when I could be free. Besides, when the chaos begins, I’d rather feel the blood I shed coating my chest rather than soaking into this cheap suit one of the cirkies picked up for me.

The spiders have already begun their descent, creeping down the ropes toward their prey. And the prey? Oh, they’re fucking shivering. The sight of it all has my cock twitching.

“Welcome,” I call out, spreading my arms wide like I’m some kind of unholy priest, “to the ultimate feast for your darkest desires! We know what you all want, don’t we? You came here for more than just a scare—you came here tofeelsomething. You came here because you like the idea of those creepy, crawly legs on your skin, don’t you?”

There’s a murmur from the audience, a collective shudder that ripples through the crowd. The ones strapped up in the web? They’re starting to squirm, but not all of them out of fear. I can see the subtle movements, the shift in their hips, the way their breath catches when a spider crawls across their bare skin.

They’re fucking getting into it.

They’re getting off on it.

I catch a glimpse of a young woman tied to the ropes, her body quivering as a particularly large spider inches its way across her stomach. She gasps—high, breathless—and I lean in, my voice dripping with amusement.

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