Donaletto, the clown, was in the corner of his cage, sleeping on the straw that was kept there for that purpose… when Gloria came in. Her deep mocking laughter sent shivers and cramps through his 23 year-old belly. He tried to turn away from her, leaving his naked ass fully exposed to her derisive gaze. He wished he could crawl into a hole, but there really was nowhere for him to go. Reluctantly, his eyes traveled over to where she was standing in the doorway of his little boxcar. She was beautiful. Gloria Sandrina was a majestic vision of pure female power. At 42 years of age, she stood about 5 feet 10 inches tall, with thick brunette hair that she wore in a short, classically European way. Her body was powerful muscle. Firm, sinewy arms, a modest bosom, powerful thighs, and a big, firm pronounced ass… it stuck out whether she wanted it to or not. Trim ankles lead down to feet that looked sort of chubby, but were every bit as muscular as the rest of her strong body. And the smell! A mixture of sweat, vinegar and grime.
Now, Donaletto was born with two attributes that would prove to be his greatest weaknesses in Gloria's domain. He had been endowed with an extremely large scrotum. It was actually repulsive in it's size. Covered in wiry black hair, his massive balls were more like an animal's and were constantly full of potent, hot sperm. The wrinkled sac was highly sensitive as well! So much so, that even at eighteen years of age, his mother had taken to dressing him in her nylon panties as she knew they would be softer against his tender sac. But Donaletto was also cursed with an exceptional sense of smell. "Everyday"smells- like gasoline or frying bacon didn't seem to bother the average person, but to Donaletto, they were enough to produce a feeling of acute nausea. And foot odor… well surely it would have driven him over the edge and sent him vomiting. Except it didn't. In fact, it actually produced thick, stiff erections that had haunted him throughout his childhood. And Gloria Sandrina had foot-stink for days. She didn't seem to mind it, though. Often, several days would pass with her wearing the same stockings without changing them. The sheer fabric would absorb the smell of her foot. The slick juices that accumulated inside her shoes would cling to the dark reinforcements on her heels and toes. She would make Donaletto suck on them… she called it his lunch. Served hot and reeking right from her stocking feet. Gloria had been wearing this particular pair for eight days now. The stench was overwhelming. She wore the stockings, her shoes, and an oversized white t-shirt that had the word "honey" scrawled acrossed it in shiny red script. And that was all.
The naked man crawled deeper into a corner of his cage, farthest away from the grinning woman. His frightened eyes widened as he heard her lock the door behind her.
Gloria Sandrina smiled to reveal her sharp white teeth. She was beautiful… in a very predatory way. Behind the grin her mind was taking in the sight of her prey. Donaletto. The Dickclown. Since her early teens spent growing up in the circus, Gloria had been fascinated by the prospect of humiliating clowns. To her, men were clowns in general. Clumsy, pawing, beasts that sought only to jam their swollen penises into an unresisting female. This creature, however, was particularly vile.
She had first discovered his disgusting, bloated secret when he, a hitchhiker then, had joined their caravan and spent the night while they plodded slowly along to another town. During the night, she had climbed into his boxcar to check on the sleeping young man- perhaps make sure he wasn't trying to steal something. What she saw instead had taken her breath away. There, lying on the lumpy cot, was Donaletto… completely naked. At some point in the night his legs had kicked off his dirty bed sheet, revealing his lower body entirely. His enormous scrotum lay on the cot between his outstretched legs. His balls were covered in sweat and matted with gross curly black hair, and to Gloria's eyes, they seemed to be moving slightly with each gentle rock of the boxcar. She felt her stomach churning. She felt the gorge rise in her throat, but only uttered a single word… filled with contempt: "Yuck".
As dawn had risen and the next tiny town came into view, Donaletto awoke to something unpleasant on his face. He wasn't sure what it was, but the smell was making him gag slightly. Opening his eyes, he saw two female feet swathed in sheer brown stockings pressing playfully at his nostrils. The large toe reinforcements had bits of lint and toe grime smeared into them and vinegary sweat seemed to be stained across the ball of each foot. He moved as if to arise from his cot, only to find that he had been tied there by several more pairs of stockings.
"Going somewhere, dickhead?" The voice was rich and luxurious, tinged with just a hint of mirth. She drew one stockinged foot back and then slapped it against the side of his face leaving a wet stain.
"I said, are you going somewhere, dickhead?" "Let me up!" crowed Donaletto. "You have no right to treat me this way!"
"Oh now, I think your blowing things out of proportion", replied Gloria removing a cigarette from her pocket and lighting it. "Besides… your dick seems to like this." She pronounced the word "dick" with special emphasis, immediately drawing his attention to that part of himself. He gasped and in doing so, filled his nostrils with a pungent whiff of Gloria Sandrina's hot, smelly foot stink. What he saw between his legs was an erection the size of which he had never before encountered. The thick blind head of his penis was rearing itself at the ceiling in a scream of silent agony. The fat, angry shaft had bloated grotesquely, and was thrumming in time to his lust. His balls were so congested with semen; he was beginning to see stars.
"Well now… it seems you have a little foot-fetish. Am I right?" Donaletto could only manage a pitiful groan. "You know," Gloria continued, teasing the young man, "you're funny. That's good, because the circus could use a new clown act."
Donaletto, feeling his dignity threatened to the point of collapse, offered one last show of resistance. "I am not anyone's clown! If you don't let me go right now, I will have the police deal with you!!" Suddenly, Donaletto looked very afraid. Gloria Sandrina pressed both her stocking feet hard against his cheeks- pulling his face into a ridiculous parody of a grinning smile. Then, through clenched teeth she hissed back at him: "You do not tell me what you will or won't be! You are a disgusting mockery of a man, and as such, your only place is to be my filthy little clown for people to laugh at!"