Laura and the Queen perform together

As Jenny the acrobat walked across the tightrope in the buff, she momentarily shot a savage side eye glance at the cage hanging beside her, and calmly continued.

Laura was inside as usual, stark naked and covered in mud, but this time she was now accompanied by the Queen of Pranks. This wasn't their first time being crammed into a tight space together, but at least that prior incident had been inside a washing machine. Here, the Queen had to contend with the sticky sensations of filth as well as Laura's breasts smothering hers. Not to mention that Laura's pubes were much thicker than on that first meeting, so she had to contend with the bristling against her own bald crotch. Although admittedly, the Queen's could already feel her own itchy stubble growing in.

"So why does everyone in this circus have such hairy jungles."

"It's supposedly more eye catching for the audiences in the backseats. And also funnier."

"Right. But it isn't mandatory?" The Queen asked.

"Considering that neither of us can afford a razor at the moment, it is for us." Laura gazed up at the patchwork sewing job done on the hole they had made in the tent's roof. "Who knew tent repairs could be so expensive. Did you really have to attack me two days before I was supposed to get paid? I could've purchased a full wardrobe before they docked my wages!"

"Don't count on it. My clothes were conspicuously absent when they retrieved my luggage from my hotel room. I think your circus friends are intent on leaving us without a stitch. How long until we've paid off their repairs?"

"Well, since this is one of the less intensive performances, we don't need many hours of equipment testing and practice as the others, so combined with my usual hourly rate and... we'll have paid them off at the end of the tour."

"And how much longer is that?"

"A few months."

"A few mmmphh!!???" The Queen's words were stifled as she whipped her head around, and accidentally locked lips with Laura. As this was the sixth time it had happened today, she turned her head back into Laura's cheek with minimal fuss. "That's too long! Maybe if we offer to take over Annie's advertising, we might be able to pay Boza off sooner, and we can actually afford clothes by our next payday."

"Being naked in public? No thanks."

"We're already naked whenever we go out in public! Face it Laura, the whole troupe hates our guts. Even your so called assistant refuses to help."

Laura grumbled. A few months living naked, or one month for double the exposure? Both bad options, but one of them was still faster. "Alright, fine. But we're going to need to come up with a really good performance. Amsterdam is up next, and two naked women on the streets won't be enough of a selling point."

As the first act came to an end, the vibrant sounds of the clattering circus subsided, replaced by eager whispers from the audience as the cage holding the Queen of Pranks and Laura slowly descended to the stage's center. As the cage hit the ground with a metallic thud, two clowns emerged, trundling over with exaggerated, gaudy steps toward their captives. Their painted grins and the mischievous gleam in their eyes made them look like wild coyotes circling prey.

The clowns flung open the cage with a theatrical flourish, pulling the mud-caked women into the stage's spotlight. The Queen and Laura tried to hold onto their slipping dignity with scowls, but their bare skin gleamed under the harsh lighting.

"Phooey! These gals are filthy!" one clown announced, gesturing grandly at an over-sized tub in the center ring, brimming with soapy water and bubbles that sparkled under the stage lights. "While we give 'em a scrub, you folks can vote on what will happen next!"

The clowns seized Laura and the Queen, throwing them into the tub. The audience roared with laughter as the women tumbled in with unceremonious splashes, engulfed by a wave of scented lather and bubbles. Laura and the Queen could do little but writhe and squirm under the clowns’ relentless attention, faces flushed by burning embarrassment.

This may have been the fastest the Queen had seen an audience rush in and out of their seats during an interval. She even spotted one man still wrangling with his fly zip as he stumbled back to his seat. Nothing like two women in a bath to get butts in seats.

Music swelled as Act two began, and the audience watched eagerly as clowns pulled the drenched Queen and Laura from the bath. Steam rose from their bare skin, catching the spotlight like the grotesque shimmer of an active barbecue.The Queen swiped globs of bubbles from her eyes, brows drawn in frustration. Laura, barely concealing her own irritation, stood hunched over covering her intimates.

The clowns backed away with exaggerated bows as a silhouette emerged from the colorful gloom—a figure clad in a skimpy parody of a policewoman's uniform.

Annie strolled onto the stage, a mock authority in her step. The too-tight, too-short skirt struggled over her hips, each swish of her walk as comically authoritative as the plastic badge glinting on her chest. Her red hair stood out against the dark hue of her hat, and her pale cleavage shone through her blue crop top shirt.

With a theatrical flourish, Annie produced a paddle from behind her back, its polished surface gleaming under the spotlights. A sharp smack echoed through the tent as Annie delivered a playful whack to Laura and the Queen's bare behinds. It was enough to make them both stiffen to attention with their arms by their sides and thrusting out their bare chests to the audience's delight.

“Ladies, gentlemen and everything in between!” Annie announced, waving the paddle with exaggerated exuberance. Her voice rang clear, threaded with humor, "These pervertitas have spent enough time in the cage, but I think they still need to learn their lesson before we set them free."

"Your assistant really seems to enjoy this," The Queen noted. "I'm not surprised to learn you're a bad boss."

"You weren't any better." Laura spat back. "Or do you still keep in touch with your old apprentice?"

The Queen shut her mouth, there was no winning that argument.

"But while the clowns sift through the ballot box, let's recap our options: The pervertitas could be made to juggle for us, and if they drop a ball, they have to run around the audience to be spanked. They can be dressed in cat ears, a collar and have whiskers drawn on, before being made to crawl around the stage on all four by our animal handler. We could pelt them with pies, and then make them lick each other clean. We could have them bend over, and allow our muscians to use their bottoms as bongo drums. We could blindfold them and tie their hands behind wooden posts, And allow a lucky handful of you folks to come down here and tickle and grope them. Or, we could simply order them to kiss and make up, until their belligerent tension turns into passionate romance!"

That last one made them both shudder the most. But there was some wisdom in those words. The Queen nervously eyed the audience, and then looked at her nemesis. To think, at the start of this whole affair, she'd been among that audience watching with glee, now she was side by side with her nemesis being humiliated on stage. The Queen was beginning to understand why they suggested digging two graves before a **** quest. Laura turned and locked eyes with the Queen, evidently thinking the same thing. The tiebreaker could wait for a more convenient day.

An acrobat cartwheeled on stage, handed Annie a slip of paper, and cartwheeled out of sight. "Well folks, the votes are in! And the winner is…"