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girl, why would I elope with a mere man, when you know you hold
sole and only possession of my heart? Suzie giggled and Cyn
went on. Hark, what dark in yonder window grows? It is the east
and Suze the approaching night.
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All right, all right already. Sheesh. Someone s gonna snitch if
you keep acting like that.
Cyn nodded and let go of her. The last thing I need is for
Mom to find out I like girls, too. She gave Suzie a wicked grin. I
have a free pass. You want to crash the adult show? I ll go halvsies
if you come along for immoral support.
Suzie giggled. I have the car. Sure.
I have to go by the piercing booth beforehand, though. Meet
me at the tent when it s time. Cyn hurried off to see Torturo.
The adult show was more than they had hoped. Better than late
night Cinemax. Better than the liberated porn tapes they d found in
Cyn s dad s drawers. Suzie was still pink after her volunteer stint
as they walked to the parking area. Cyn tried not to be jealous.
Suzie may have gotten her boobs licked, but Cyn planned to end
the night in Torturo s bed.
Don t come in too late. Don t wake anybody, Suzie said as
they walked toward the gate afterward.
You aren t staying for the masquerade? Costumes are
provided. Cyn pointed toward the other giant tent on the grounds,
its white roof aglow with light.
Suzie shook her head. I ve had enough excitement for one
night. See you in the morning.
Thanks. Cyn gave her a smile. You re a pal. She made sure
Suzie got safely to her car and then hurried back.
The summer night lay over the Midway. Only a few late thrill
seekers rode the rides. The booths glowed but their light felt sickly
in the country darkness. The clowns were doing no business with
their balloons and candy. She caught a glimpse of a furry face at an
upper window of the funhouse and it went out like a candle.
Hyperactive imagination, she said to herself and hurried a
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little to where Torturo s little stand sat in the shadow of the huge
black Ten-in-One. She glanced at the mirror maze as she went,
catching her reflection in every mirror but two. She sidestepped a
clown carrying a bundle of balloons, a box of cheap toys slung
around his neck, and glanced back to see how those two mirrors
were angled. The clown did not cast a reflection. She rubbed her
eyes and looked again. All the mirrors showed her and the clown
and the Midway.
Nobody knew Cyn was terrified of the dark and had been since
the night she d first seen The Wolfman on TV when she was four.
Vampires were sexy, but werewolves disturbed her deeply. She d
done her best not to freak out about Wolfgang. The trunk escape
had helped. Long a Houdini fan, she d thrilled at the chance to see
it done live, even knowing how it worked. Now the imagination
that had landed her the editorship of the school literary magazine
worked against her. She wondered where the hairy escape artist
was. She told herself she couldn't possibly have heard a howl over
the music and machinery. It was just a tired carnival, no different
from a dozen others she d been to. She scoffed at her own nerves.
Who knew losing her virginity would be such an adventure?
She stepped carefully around the ropes and tent pegs and
slipped into the piercing tent. Torturo looked very pale. He set the
empty tumbler on the table and managed a smile for her.
Come to my railcar in ten minutes, darling. The Show should
have our costumes there. He headed out. She glanced at her
watch.
It was a long wait in the tent. The noise of the carnival slowly
abated. Only an eerie sounding waltz filled the air, drifting in from
the masquerade. Cyn shivered in the warm night. The lights of the
Midway went out, one by one, ending with the Ferris wheel. By
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the light of the full moon, the carnival looked even creepier. She
turned her back on the Midway, trying not to feel as if she had a
target painted between her shoulder blades. This time, she knew
she heard a howl and remembered there were coyotes in the area.
She tried not to think of the fact that only some canvas stood
between her and a snarling, potentially rabid coyote.
Finally, it was time. She walked to the train, expecting at every
step to have someone tell her to go away or worse. She checked
each car as she approached, starting at the engine. A small silver
plaque on the second car read Torturo the Pain King.
Her courage screwed to the sticking point, Cyn knocked on the
door of the train car. She wanted this. He wanted this. There
wasn t going to be any trouble. Second thoughts crowded her until
she wanted to run. Of course, he didn t care about her. He wanted
her body or a joke at her expense. Maybe both.
His smile looked more genuine and the gray look on his face
had been replaced with a healthier shade as he opened the door. He
wore a pair of silk pajamas and a dressing gown, looking like an
old movie star rather than a carnival performer.
Do come in, Cyn. Your dress is hanging on the screen. I
haven t had a chance to change yet.
She climbed up into the train, relieved to be inside. The car was
one room, with a berth and a table and a little bathroom. A
changing screen blocked off one corner. Her dress, a huge thing
resembling a wedding cake straight out of the eighteenth century
hung on it. A tall powdered wig, all ribbons and stacked curls
topped with four ostrich plumes, sat on a wig head. A black
domino mask on a stick, the eyes outlined with white sequins and a
pair of dancing black slippers with ribbon ties completed the outfit.
I love it. She sighed, the dress alone sending her straight into
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bliss. I always wanted one. She looked around at the red velvet
and brass fixtures. Wow. Very Victorian.
She wasn t ready when he pulled her close for a kiss. She knew
about kissing, but there was none of the overeager fumbling or
timidity of boys her age. She opened for his tongue, finding it not
slick and clumsy but sweet and sure in her mouth. She stroked it
with her own, remembering to breathe, unable to believe she was
really kissing this handsome man. The peck earlier had left her all
shivery and weak-kneed, although she d been careful not to let him
see that. Now, she had no qualms about melting in his arms as he
satisfied everything she had always known a kiss could be.
Ah, not a complete innocent. He smiled. Is there a boyfriend
or fiancé I should worry about?
He s a hundred miles away, she said. Literally. None of the
local boys will touch me with a ten foot pole. Or even an eleven
foot one.
The more fools they, Torturo said, and kissed her again with
even more passion.
She felt his cock, hard and free inside the pajama pants,
rubbing against her hip and belly. Her breath came faster and she
felt a knot starting about where it was pressed to her. She never
wanted the kisses to stop. If he kissed her neck, she would be lost.
When his lips did indeed work down onto her neck, she
moaned, pressing up into his mouth. He held her just a little tighter
and nibbled. She gasped and threw her head back. More! she
demanded.
With a thrust of his hips, he matched her groan. God,
woman. He bit harder and she yelped, her nipples poking through
both bra and T-shirt. She pressed even closer and one hand left his
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