The boy clown steals her clothes

Moving very softly, entirely undetected by the girl clown, the boy clown slunk towards the shower. A finger pressed to his lips, commanding the crowd to total silence, he picked up her shoes and put them in a suitcase he happened to be carrying.

The girl clown showered on, singing an old Italian opera tune, facing away from the screen, in blissful ignorance, as the boy clown crept up to the shower. Moving very softly, he reached up and plucked her suspenders down from the railing.

The stockings followed, then the skirt, then the blouse, then the bra and panties. All went into the suitcase, except the panties, which the boy clown stuffed into a hidden pocket of his costume. He stepped back, gestured towards the girl, and offered the audience a silent bow.

There was a brief patter of applause, which the clown quickly shushed. Not yet! Bubbles were drifting from behind the screen now as the naked clown girl washing her hair, voice trilling sweetly across the clearing. The boy clown took hold of the curtain. Very quietly, very slowly, he slid it away.

The girl clown, with her back to the crowd, had no idea what was going on. Her fingers twined in her gold ponytails, squeezing the water out. She bent over to scrub a particularly stubborn patch of dirt off her thigh, singing merrily away, soap bubbles popping on her naked skin as her plump bare bottom and naked back were presented for the rapt audience's inspection. The evidence of her spanking was quite visible, her buttocks glowing a healthy shade of red, and from behind Susie could get just a peep at the golden curls decorating the fat lips of the clown's pussy.

She opened her mouth, intending to bark a warning, and closed it again. She couldn't. She just couldn't! She didn't even know why. It was too late, anyway. And she just couldn't bring herself to stop the show.

The clown tucked the shower curtain into his suitcase, then pulled out something that made Susie's body clench and tingle all over. It was a camera. A big, old-fashioned camera, the kind with an enormous flashbulb on it. He waved to the audience, encouraging them.

Slowly, they got the message. Phones were raised, set to record. The high-quality digital equipment of Rod, photographer for the Pinkwhistle Observer, was pointed in the showering girl's direction. Still she showered on, naked and red-bottomed, unaware of her impending fate.

The boy clown took a few steps back, the suitcase at his feet, and raised the camera to his eye, framing the perfect shot.

The crowd was perfectly still. Nobody dared to breathe. Everyone was waiting for the magic moment.

Three... two... one...

The clown girl yawned, and stretched her arms high above her head, luxuriating in the warm water. Her hands went to her face, scrubbing the last bits of cream off her cheeks. She turned around, still rubbing her closed eyes, smiling to herself as if in a comfortable dream, and let her hands fall to her full breasts, slowly rubbing and tweaking her pink nipples to make sure they were absolutely sparking clean. She had a perfect hourglass figure, flat stomach leading down to the perfect V of her creamy thighs and the neat blonde triangle adorning the plump lips of her pussy. She ran one hand all the way down her body, every motion followed by a thousand lenses, and allowed it to drift sensually between her legs.

Then she opened her eyes.

The shriek that followed rang through the entire carnival, setting crows to flight, startling jugglers and making unicyclists topple off their vehicles into the mud. The flash of the boy clown's camera caught her perfectly, wide blue eyes staring in total astonishment at the cheering audience, hundreds of other cameras preserving the moment for all time as she stood before them nude, in utter shock, unable for a brief golden moment even to move her hands.

Then she shrieked, and crouched down in the bathtub.