God Laughs

Chapter 3

This is a chain story written by Jezzaz, Todd172, Stev2244, Harddaysknight, Girlinthemoon, Qhml1, Oshaw and blackrandl1958. One different author wrote each chapter in this story, building on the work of the preceding author. We are submitting one chapter each day until the story is finished. We would like for you, the readers, to see if you can spot who wrote the different chapters. If you care to hazard a guess, you may leave it in a comment on the last chapter of the story. If no one is right, we will pick the one closest to right and one, or more, of us will dedicate our next story to you. If multiple persons are right, we will dedicate the story to all who are right. We will wait one week after the posting of the last chapter, then announce which chapter was written by which author. This was a very entertaining exercise for us, and we may do it again. We hope you enjoy the story, Napalminthemorning.

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"I have no clear recollection of that event."

I managed to say it without smirking too much, flashes of a lean body, almost translucently white, platinum blond hair, and disconcerting red eyes nibbling at my memory.

The ATF guy, a little older than the rest of the crew, grinned back. "How very Nixon-esque of you. Now, what really happened?"

I tried to remember, really, but after about the first hour, everything blurred together. Luckily (depending on your definition), another agent, FBI, I think, it was hard to tell when all he had on was a windbreaker, and it was upside down and inside out, came storming out.

"I need names! Numbers! Bust sizes! How else am I gonna match these with the proper bodies?"

He must have a pretty serious bra fetish. He was holding at least two dozen in his hands. About that time the redhead, aka Smith and Wesson, came strolling out. "That one's mine, sugar," she said, reaching for the one draped across his shoulders.

"Really? I thought it was canopies for the patio tables."

"No, honey, those are the small ones. A little help here?"

It took four of them, one to slide the cups over her tits while two more agents supported Smith and Wesson. The fourth was trying to get it snapped in the back, but it popped loose, and the strap whiplashed, knocking the agent holding Smith down. He didn't have time to let go, and hung dangling from her nipple for a minute. The redhead screamed. The agent screamed. Amber screamed. I screamed. We all screamed for... no reason at all.

"Officer down! Officer down. We need EMT's! Now!" The other agents came streaming out of the house, the ones who could actually find their guns waving them around. I suddenly had a craving. I looked at Amber.

"Does ice cream sound good to you?"

"Great. If there's anything left in the freezer."

At the mention of ice cream, the agents lost interest in trying to find a bad guy and followed us into the kitchen. Teresa had Bobby Sue bent over the kitchen table, slamming into her with a strapon while she screamed.

"What is it with the strapons?," asked ATF/FBI/ICE/Homeland Security/Postal inspector as he rummaged around for spoons and bowls. They were all starting to blur together at this point. Amber giggled.

"They must have gotten into the samples."

"What samples?"

"Hubby here has several businesses, one of which is one of the biggest importers of sexual aids and 'enhancers' in the country. We got in a box of the newest and most experimental yesterday. A big box. Apparently, they are very well received."

About that time Bobby Sue screamed and Teresa let out a big yelp, sagging backwards and pulling out. The thing was glowing.

"What the hell?"

I grinned at G-Man. "The latest and greatest, a miracle of modern engineering. It has sensors to detect heat, moisture, heart rate, and general state of arousal. The closer you get to climax, the warmer it gets, even swelling another half an inch in girth and an inch in length. At the precise moment of orgasm, it emits a small electrical shock to both parties. Unofficial test results look quite promising."

Another agent wandered in, wearing a green teddy that looked suspiciously like Amber's, holding a black one in his hands. She snatched it out of his hands and shimmied into it, bringing conversation to a halt. He also had on her old, fuzzy slippers, which she made him take off and give to her. Not the sexiest combo I'd ever seen, but she looked comfortable.

A female EMT came in to report something, saw the strapon and the comatose Bobby Sue, and after checking her vitals talked Teresa into using it on her, for science, of course. Her partner came in, saw the experiment, and decided to see firsthand the dangers of said toy. Soon he was bent over the table beside his partner while one of the G-men worked him over, balancing the bowl of ice cream on his back.

The head agent, chocolate ice cream dripping down his chin, started asking questions.

"Who owns this house?"

"I do. Well, my corporation does, technically. Graham Enterprises."

What sort of enterprises.?"

"Well, the sex toy business for one. I also own Fairy Tails Productions."

"The porn guy?"

Amber bristled. "Porn as an industry has been dead ten years. My husband and I produce niche-market fantasies, matching the action to the audience, and stream it on the internet, by subscription only. I can assure you, everything you see is consensual, regardless of the screams. Mostly. It's just performance art. We've even won awards."

"There better not be anyone underage involved." Amber paled a little, and asked me in a whisper how old four was in dog years.

"Twenty-eight. You're on your own with the pony, though."

I turned back to the agent. "I can assure you that except for last night, everything we do is under strict control. Would you like to talk to my lawyer? He's here somewhere. The last time I saw him he was in a pink tutu, and a silver bra with attached angel wings. He was slow dancing with the Bearded Lady, and in confidence, agent, she was no lady."

We had moved out on the patio by then, admiring the dozer in the pool. I watched as a woman walked up the path from the barn. She was wearing a black bustier and fishnet stockings under thigh-high boots, and nothing else. She was petite, but the six inch heels made her seem much taller. That was all she had on, and she was carrying an English saddle and a quirt. Her eyes were blazing. As she came closer, I was able to admire the three little horseshoes that were all the pubic hair she had. Her bustier had trouble containing her magnificent mammary glands, the nipples hard and straining just above the cups.

"Goddamnit, John! Where the fuck is Ponyboy? Did you let him out of his paddock?"

I had a fleeting remembrance of him galloping through the kitchen, the midget raking him with spurs. I idly wondered where the spurs came from. "I did not, R... er Mistress Moonbeam," I decided that unless anyone asked her real name it would be best to leave her with her stage name. She and Ponyboy made quite a bit of money for us with their live streams.

She stomped off, muttering. "When I catch him, I'm going to whip his ass." Too late to be the first today, I thought, as she stormed into the house.

A new agent came around the house, looking around in awe. I knew he was recently arrived, because he still had his clothes on. He took one look at his agent, naked, chocolate ice cream smeared across his face, and grimaced. "What the fuck happened here? Jones! Go wash your face. And see if you can find some clothes."

"You! You in charge of this dog and pony show?" Amber blanched a little.

"Kinda sorta maybe," I replied. "I own the dog and pony, as well as the rest of the animals on the property. I recntly acquired a bankrupt circus, and they're currently contained in the back field. The circus people are also living back there, in their trailers. Somebody has to care for the animals, and they get to live here free since they're unemployed. Most are trying to find work in their fields, but circuses are a thing of the past. Even Ringling/Barnum and Bailey closed."

"Why'd you buy a circus?"

"I always wanted an elephant. You may have already met her. She was halfway through about fifteen thousand in landscaping when I saw her last."

The sudden sound of screams and fighting halted the conversation. He started to rise, but I stopped him. "There's enough cops around to start a convention. I'd stay out of the house for a while, if it was me."

The noise finally stopped, and Mistress Moonbeam came out of the kitchen, leading her Pony and the midget. She had a 'bridle' on her, a gag that held her mouth wide open. Another memory flashed, of me holding her upside down while she gave me head, raising and lowering her at the speed I wanted. She must have recognized us, because she was grinning as well as one could with a ball gag. Mistress pulled on her leash. "I'm taking the midget for all the trouble I've gone through. I always wanted a miniature. Make sure you leave them alone."

"Hey, it's not my fault he runs away. You should rein him in, teach him to just say 'neigh' once in a while. Besides, I don't think she's trainable."

She snapped her quirt, and both jumped. "Oh, I believe we can come to an understanding." They walked down the path, and I wondered as she walked away where she had gotten a butt plug with a tail for the midget that flicked up and down at random times, then I remembered the toy box. I noticed the midget flinch every time the tail flicked, thinking it must be wired, too. It was probably the same place she got the ball gag. I really needed to find that box. All those thoughts filtered in a distant second as I (and everyone on the patio) watched a world class ass twitch and sway until it was out of sight.

"Is he being held against his will?"

"No," I told the cop, "I have his notarized consent agreement in my office, that is, if I still have an office."

Amber's boss chose that moment to appear, being led by his pretty pink leash by the guy he'd been snuggled up with when I saw him last. Amber jumped up, a low growl emanating. I almost wished I'd had a leash, trying to hold her back. He paled, then ducked behind the Chinese guy.

After I got Amber calmed down, he peeked around the weightlifter. "Hey, are we cool here? Can we let bygones be bygones? No hard feelings?"

Blind fury almost consumed me, but then I grinned, opening the briefcase that had somehow found its way under a lounger. "Sure. We'll call it even. All you need to do is sign this nondisclosure agreement and Amber and you are quits. Understand?"

He was almost shaking in his eagerness to sign, not even looking at the forms. They walked off, hand in hand, until the Chinese guy pulled on the leash. Then he dropped to all fours and crawled along behind him.

Amber was looking at me, trying to figure out what I was doing. I handed her the forms. A performance contract with Fairy Tails Productions, for five years. No escape clause, and severe penalties if he failed to perform at regular intervals. She was grinning ear to ear.

"What are we gonna do with him?"

"Anything you like. We still own the dog and pony show, remember?" For the first time since we'd come to, she didn't cringe or look nervous when they were mentioned.

That plan proved to be short lived. The ASPCA agent came around the pool, doing a Lady Godiva imitation, riding the pony and leading the dog. We watched as her boobs bounced to the gait of the pony, and I wondered if there was a flat chested woman anywhere on the property. Maybe I needed to investigate. She pulled the pony to a halt, growling "Sit!" to the dog. He sat so fast it was like his ass was iron and the ground was a magnet, whimpering.

"I'm confiscating these animals, pending my report. You'll be contacted soon." She wheeled the pony so fast he reared up. I'd never seen a cock cage that big. Then I noticed there was one on the dog, as well, along with a muzzle that looked familiar, somehow. I really, really needed to find that box.

.....................................................................................

The agent stood. "Stay here. I need to investigate the house."

"I wouldn't if I were you. Whatever is affecting us seems to be contained in the house. The longer we're outside, the more clearheaded we are. You can take your chances, but you may end up like him."

The younger agent had appeared. He'd washed the ice cream away and had applied lip gloss, mascara, and eyeliner. He was wearing one of Amber's slave outfits, think X-rated I Dream Of Jeanie, and a jet black wig. There was also a black collar and leash, which he presented to the senior agent from his knees. "Command me, Master."

He flamed red, and Amber and I both caught the sudden bulge in his pants. "Stay!," he said, tying the leash to the table, pulling out a cellphone. "Five Agents, full self-containment suits. Make sure they're all in top shape. Fifteen minutes, and bring a couple of remote control robots and some drones. What? No, no one appears violent. In fact, they all seem to be in a euphoric state, extremely amorous."

The patio was getting crowded as more people came out. Officer Neiderhauser and Kevin, AKA Tyrone appeared, holding hands. I could tell they'd gotten into our wardrobe department beside the studio, because she was wearing an enormous feather boa and nothing else, while Kevin had on a pair of golden boyshorts.

The incest twins finally got out of the shower, and came tumbling out the patio door locked in what can only be described as an oblong sixty-nine, a small dog wearing a party hat running on it's hind legs atop them. Incredible act of balance, for a dog.

They were all starting to come down a little and babbling to the point no one could hold a conversation. The main topic was the fat, older bald guy with the long white beard. They were calling him the Redneck Bhudda, who sat crosslegged and naked while three women were climbing all over him as he sang something in a soft Southern twang. Half thought it was "One Way Out," by The Allman Brothers, the others thought it was "Gimme Three Steps," by Lynyrd Skynyrd, wondering at the meaning. Agent Boss was trying to restore order, yelling at the top of his lungs. Then, so suddenly it was scary, everyone shut up and stopped moving.

A really, really hot black woman, totally naked, was walking among them and they parted to give her room. I'd get a glimpse and she would have a headful of curls, then she would drop from sight and reappear to have long, straight hair. She finally reached the edge of the crowd, looked at me, and gave me a brilliant smile, before walking to the pool house. She was carrying a basket of dolls and large pins in one hand, and something that looked like an award in the other, a twin set of breasts mounted to a base, covered in gold plate.

As soon as she disappeared the clamor started again. "You guys see that?"

The agents and Amber looked at me, baffled. "See what?"

"Jesus Christ! This place is a zoo," screamed the SAC.

"No, it's not. It's a circus," said our Ringmaster, in a red tux coat with tails, top hat and nothing else. Something pinged at the edge of my memory. I realized two things, instantly. I needed to get into that pool house, and I needed to ask a question.

"You guys didn't happen to see my tiger anywhere, did you?"