What harm could they do? They're only clowns

Another custard pie hit Bonnie in the face.

She licked her lips and shook her head as much as she could, trying to get the sticky mess out of her hair. The cheerleaders were already preparing the next one. Anne-Marie had forked over a hundred dollars to buy up the booth's entire supply, and she had excellent aim.

At least they tasted good. Bonnie tried for the thousandth time to wiggle her head out of the way, but she couldn't move. The pillory made sure of that. She was trapped in the middle of the carnival, bent over, head and hands fastened in place. Bottom raised in the air. Naked, of course. The clowns had made very sure of that.

She gasped as a warm, unwelcome but not entirely unpleasant sensation slipped between her tense thighs, overcoming her meagre resistance to part her legs with ease. A hand, stroking her sex. A clown hand. Checking how wet she was.

She was very, very wet, of course. The clowns had made sure of that as well.

"Hey, everyone, look," said Anne-Marie, taking aim and letting fly. The pie hit Bonnie at the exact moment she felt the clown's cock slide inside her, filling her up, touching her exactly how she liked to be touched. "That clown's fucking Bonnie! Bonnie fucks clowns!"

Bonnie whimpered as the whole town pointed and laughed at her, naked in public, getting fucked from behind by a clown. It was true. She would always be known for the rest of time as Bonnie Clownfucker, the Girl Who Fucks Clowns.