28 - Tale of the Sideshow - The Cunt Collector

Jason crushed the beer can under the heel of his heavy workboot. He rubbed his face as he picked up another candle. He picked up the flattened can and sat the candle in the middle of it, to balance it on his knee.

"After that encounter with the Alligator Woman, we stayed in the college town two days. I was fine, except for a bit of bloody toilet paper. Wasn't being paid to lay on my stomach in my trailer all day. There was work to be done. The boss, who had a nose for such things, found someone else to join us. So I guess this is the tale of

THE CUNT COLLECTOR

A smart man once observed that anything that can be done to a rat can be done to a human being, and that we can do almost anything to a rat. Well, that's true, to an extant. I remember when I saw that rat that seemed to have a human ear growing out of its back. And I remember that artist who had an ear attached to his arm, just to show it could be done. It was mostly just for show; he couldn't hear out of it or anything. Just a lump of flesh shaped like an ear, his body keeping it alive.

The pair that the boss brought were an older woman, grey haired and wrinkled, and a younger woman, Latino, with peroxide stains burned into her dark hair.

"Dr. Gyges and Maria," the boss introduced them, once we'd gotten them settled in their trailer.

I smiled. My eyes went over them both, and didn't see anything out of the ordinary. Which meant nothing. Plenty of folks with a parasitic twin or extra body part that could be hidden by clothes. Gyges was weedy-thin, like one of those women that does yoga every day without fail, in a black suit jacket, white blouse, and black slacks. Maria was much younger, her bronze skin smooth; her blue jean-shorts showed well-toned thighs and calves; her t-shirt, showing some anime I wasn't familiar with, was stretched across a respectable pair of breasts.

My eyes flicked to the boss, who turned toward Gyges. She laid a hand on Maria's shoulder.

"Show them," the doctor said.

Maria pulled off her shirt. The breasts looked even bigger out in the open, contained only in a dark red sateen bra. Yet what caught my eye was her navel.

It was a vagina.

I blinked, not quite believing my eyes. Maria's fingers drew her fingers to either side of her abs and tugged a little. The labia parted, showing a wet, pink interior.

"Well, that's definitely one for the late-night show," I said. "Is it, ah...functional?"

Maria turned her head away, face blushing. Dr. Gyges reached over and rubbed the back of the younger woman's neck.

"To a degree. It isn't as deep as a natural vagina," she said.

"Natural?" I said, and looked from Maria to Gyges to the boss, and back again.

"My research," Gyges explained. "Is organ transplantation. With a focus on not just physical structures, but neural integration. Maria has agreed to be my test subject."

My face must have looked blank. The boss caught my attention.

"Doctor Gyges will help with basic medical care for the troupe. Maria has trained as an exotic dancer. We'll give her a routine during the regular show, and you'll work with her for something for the after-hours show. Something that uses her unnatural talents."

So that's what we did. I never quite understood the relationship between Doctor Gyges and Maria; two women could share a trailer without being lesbians, but I got the sense there was something else between them. She gave me an idea for the after-hours show. We bought an old gynecology chair and rigged it with a couple of dildos and a motor; Maria would get strapped down as part of a scene, the dildos would pound her pussy and ass, and then an assistant would play with her navel pussy, usually with a little egg vibrator—something big enough to show it wasn't just a shallow prosthetic, but not so big as to cause discomfort.

Well, it worked a treat. Maria would cum like a banshee when the act got going. Dr. Gyges often played the assistant, with a white labcoat and surgical mask, green latex gloves that she would use to play with that navel pussy. It was a sight to watch them work through the scene, and the punters certainly got their money's worth.

Then came the winter, and the carnival packed up for the season. Some folks didn't come back, but when the sideshow reassembled, Dr. Gyges and Maria were there.

Only this time, Maria had another hole to play with.

It was along the underside of her left breast, the nipple standing out in place of the clitoris. I could see the red marks left by the stitches. The skin color didn't match. Dr. Gyges seemed more protective of Maria that season. She didn't allow anyone else to assist Maria in her act, not this time. I watched the way her gloved hands played over the skin, how lightly and delicately she would hold the little pink egg vibrators against the slits on Maria's body. There was something cold and clinical about it. As if she was collecting data.

Maria, for her part, was even more orgasmic than before. Her body heaved and strained against the bonds. When her clits were toyed with, she shrieked like a cat in heat. The first season, she had gotten a little wet, made mewling noises of pleasure, but now we had to designate the front row a splash zone, the young Latina's thighs quivering as she squirted powerfully—from all three slits—when she came.

Which was a nice trick, I had to admit. I wasn't sure how it worked. Yet I would see Maria in the aftermath, eyes wild, breasts heaving, leaking out of all three pussies.

The problem came one night went one of the strippers OD'd.

Fentanyl may be the boogeyman of the casual **** user today, but any combination of **** has its potential fatalities. In this case, it was a young Black woman with natural D-cups called Bianca who tried to mix pink cocaine and poppers. Doctor Gyges was called, who declared it cardiac arrest. Calls were made, and the boss paid off the cops to keep it quiet. The funeral home would take the body for cremation in the morning.

That night, though...I saw the light in Dr. Gyges' and Maria's trailer. I knew that Bianca's body was in there with them. The boss had asked me, in that quiet way she had, of keeping an eye out. There were lots of things that could wrong with a corpse at a carnival. Bad for business.

So I sat on a crate all night long, one eye on the trailer. Nobody came near it. At one point, though, Dr. Gyges came out. Her face flushed with a kind of triumph I had never seen before. It was too dark, she didn't see me. I know that because she wandered to a tree behind the trailer, pull down her pants...and aimed the cock that came out at the tree. I pulled my jaw up off my chest even as she was shaking off the last drops.

The next day, Maria's right breast was bandaged. Gyges made excuses. An inadvertent injury. It wasn't great for stripping, but it worked fine for the after-hours show, added to the surgical atmosphere. Only on the last week of performances, the bandage came off...and I saw the dark strip of skin along the underside of Maria's right tit, the nipple in place of the clitoris. The breasts was inflamed, the stitches still visible, still healing. Yet now when they played out their last shows, the punters could see Gyges play with those nipples, and see the pusses installed in Maria's swollen breasts convulse in sympathy. The young woman's eyes rolled back into her head as the combination of **** from the dildos and vibrators seemed to overwhelm her brain.

Ticket sales were up. The boss was happy. Bianca was past the point of caring what happened to her pussy. But before the season ended, I got Maria alone for a moment and asked her about it. She gave me the sweetest smile you've ever seen and said:

"The difference between humans and rats is, the human volunteers for it. They go through the experiment, and then they go back for more."

I wondered at that. I wondered who the donors were for the other two pussies on Maria's body, and who Dr. Gyges' cock had come from. Was it any of my business? No, can't say it was. Yet I always did wonder how many cunts Maria would have collected by the time she and Dr. Gyges rejoined the sideshow.

With that, Jason blew out the candle in its little makeshift holder.