Editor's note: this story contains scenes of incest or incest content.
*****
The alarm clock went off in the dark bedroom, emitting from a cellphone. It wasn't a repeating noise, but a musical piece: the circus march "Thunder and Blazes."
Marisol, splayed out in her bed on her back and snoring, stretched her hand out to turn it off. Then she sat up in bed and switched the lamp on.
The darkness vanished, revealing walls decorated with circus posters and paintings of clown faces. On the shelves sat clown dolls, and in a chair in the corner sat a clown blowup doll. In another corner was a full-length mirror.
She glanced at her phone: 6 a.m. She yawned, stretched, and got out of bed, walking barefoot toward the bathroom. She wore a white nightgown with red polka dots. She flipped the light switch on and stared at herself in the mirror.
She was a mess: eyes half open, curly hair all frizzled, sagging tits ...
Marisol sighed, rubbed the sleep from her eyes, and stretched again. Then, while looking into her reflection's eyes, she said, "Today my frown turns upside down 'cause I'm the best clown aroun'!"
And she instantly felt better. Every day since she was a little girl she repeated that mantra, which was of her own composition. She washed up, put on her non-clown makeup, and got dressed, and then headed into the kitchen for breakfast.
Mother, who lived with Marisol, was already sitting down and eating.
"What are you so happy about?" she asked her daughter.
"Nothing," Marisol replied, as she poured herself a bowl of cereal and milk.
"I heard you," Mother said.
"What do you mean?"
"That stupid thing you say
every morning
. When will you grow up? You're in your late thirties and single, Marisol! You need to settle down with a man and put your childish dreams to rest ..."
Marisol ignored Mother and let her drone on and on about the imaginary perfect life for her, as usual. She sat at the table across from Mother, who was in her late sixties and living off of her dead father's pension.
They were nothing alike, which made Marisol's heart sink. Mother was always prim and proper from head to toe, inside and out. She was thin and tall, had short-cropped white hair, wore thin wire-frame glasses, and had few wrinkles on her face. Her skin was a light brown, but she could easily pass for white.
Marisol, on the other hand, stood just over 5 feet with long, thinly curled hair that reached to her shoulders. Her body was petite and slightly curvy, and her feet were small. Her eyes were large and brown, and her smile was wide and white. Her skin was a healthy brown.
She didn't know what Mother thought of her physically, but Marisol thought of herself as beautiful.
She looked up from her bowl, and Mother was still ranting ... She finished up and got ready for work. She drove a couple of miles to her job, which was as a guidance counselor at a high school. She liked helping students with their problems and advising them on what they should do after graduation ...
Which always led her to think of her own dream, that of being a full-time clown for a circus or carnival, or even just doing birthday parties ... For now, though, she had a responsibility to her students, and she had bills to pay.
She sat at her desk, staring out into space thinking about her life ... Maybe if she could attend a local clown school on the weekends—
A knock at the door snapped her out of her stupor. A student opened the door and came into her office. She told the pupil to take a seat, and as always, with a warm smile on her face.
And so the day began, and so the week played out ...
That Friday, as she drove home from work, Marisol was forced to take a detour on the highway because of construction work. Thanks to that and traffic, she drove two exits out of her way. She got off and drove through a nearby town, coming to a stop at a red light. Haphazardly looking around, she saw an adult store on the corner ...
Marisol licked her lips and wanted so hard to rub herself ...
The light changed and, instead of driving straight, she turned sharply and pulled into a spot in front of the store. She got out of her car, locked it, and quickly walked into the store, the electronic doorbell chiming once she entered.
Marisol immediately felt out of place. All around her were tables and shelves of dildos, whips, lubricants, butt plugs, candles, chokers, books, DVDs, ropes chains, collars, leashes, and other items that she had a vague understanding of and of which Mother would
never
approve ...
A young woman stood behind the counter at the front of the store. She had short-cropped black hair, a thin body, and slightly tanned skin. She looked up from her book on hypno-domination and smiled sweetly at Marisol. She also wore a beautiful red crystal around her neck.
She was the cutest thing the wannabe clown had ever seen, and was instantly smitten ...
"Hi! Welcome to Women's Wants and Needs. I'm Sadie. How may I help you?"
Marisol blushed. "Um ... I, uh ... I'm not sure."
"This your first time here?"
"Uh, yeah," Marisol said, sheepishly. "And in this
kind
of store, too ..."
"Well, don't be embarrassed. We're all human, right?" She walked from behind the counter to stand in front of Marisol. "Tell me, what turns you on?"
Marisol was taken aback by the question's bluntness—and the woman's beauty. She had to have been maybe ten years younger than her ... God, she looked adorable in her shirt, ripped jeans, and sneakers ... She swallowed and said, "Clowns."
Sadie arched her eyebrows. "Really?"
"Yeah, well, I mean ... I guess ..."
"Okay, well, do you want to dress like one for your partner? Have your partner dress like one? Get off on two clowns doing it?"
"I ... Okay, here's the thing." Marisol rubbed her temples. "I love clowns—always have. I love the whole idea of clowns—making people laugh and feel good, you know?"
"Interesting ... I mean, I think a lot of people—especially kids—would disagree, but ..."
Marisol sighed. "You sound like my mother."
Sadie winced. "Sorry, I—"
"No, it's all right ... You know, I've got a good job. I like it, but ... I wish I were a clown for a living, you know? Trade in my power suit for baggy pants. I wish I could make people happy and laugh, and make Mother understand ... or at least teach her a lesson ..." She shook her head. "I'm sorry, I'm rambling. I think this was a mistake. I better leave."
"Wait, don't!" Sadie said, and then sighed. This potential customer was such a cute little MILF ... "Look, it seems to me that your turn-on isn't clowns. You like them, you want to be one—I get that, power to you. But again, it seems to me that what turns you on is being dominant—and submissive, in certain cases."
Marisol laughed nervously. "What, you have a psychology degree?"
"Actually, I do, but after graduation I ran away with the circus."
Marisol looked her over. "Are you making fun of me?"
"No, I'm serious. I toured with a circus for about a couple of years as a stage hypnotist. But the traveling got to me, so I came back home and opened this store."
"To say that I'm jealous is an understatement."
They laughed ... Their eyes made contact ... They demurely smiled ... They looked away from each other ...
Sadie locked the door, turned the lights off, and put up a "sorry, we're closed" sign in the front window.
"Follow me," the storeowner said. "I think I may be able to help you."
