A Day of Clowning 2
Story by TikTikKobold on SoFurry
Ailen has accepted the harlequin's offer, but what transformation shall she face in the clown tent?
This is a story made in celebration of International Clown Day. Enjoy!
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Ailen scrutinizes the smiling face of the harlequin. The student of magic stuffs her wand and spells away in her purse.
The harlequin hops on one foot, then hops on another, and then he spins around, grabbing Ailen by the arm. With the momentum of his swing, he flings her across the campground and tumbles into one of the tents!
She's sent tumbling forward, falling into the void of darkness, utterly bereft of all sounds, even from the outside.
Scrambling to her feet, she gropes around for the doorway, but each step echoes on a wooden floor as if it were in the middle of some infinity of nothingness.
Just as she gasps at the strange nature of this place, a loud “THUNK" echoes throughout, and the warmth of light pours over her. She covers her face, stepping away from the spotlight, only to trip and fall back onto a chair. With clanks, shackles lock her to the seat. She tries to struggle, oh yes, but it is too much for her, what with the now deafening cacophony of calliope music and mesmeric colors and patterns that pass over her face.
“Welcome, Ailen, my dear, to transforming your dreams. Here, your mind and body will become a tapestry where you can exercise every desire without fear of repercussions."
It is the voice of the harlequin again, but this time, it runs through her mind, massaging her brain with its upbeat dulcet tones.
“We've been waiting for you, and your whole life has been leading up to this moment. Every decision, every mistake, every desire."
The curtain of Motley pulls back, and standing upon a stage behind it is a man in a white gown and a frilled collar, his face painted in a furrowed frown. Next to him is a woman in red, her eyes covered in a domino mask, her lips red and plump, her dress flowing as she dances.
The sad man collapses to his knees, dropping a series of books on the ground, his shoulders hunching, shaking his head.
“You drown in the weight of the world. The struggle is too much for one girl to handle."
The woman spins around, waving her arms, leaping through the air. “You wish to be free to pursue your desires, to let your emotions soar, to say to society, 'Fuck you! I shall not be oppressed!"
Ailen grips her seat tightly.
The harlequin whispers into her ears, his weight pressing against her shoulders without touching her. “I'm correct, but you must admit you are stuck. The girl you present to the world is the tired face of a sad, sad Pierrot."
Gloved hands lay before her, carrying masks portraying so many different emotions. Anger, fear, hate, lust, sadness, contempt, and many more she cannot name, but she can recognize. “Let your emotions out. Let the true expression of your soul escape! Are we not fellow Anteronians like you? Your friends, your neighbors, your family? We have embraced the carnival, and you can too. You need to put on the face that is yours!"
The crimson woman sways off the stage, rubbing paint between her fingers and pressing it to Ailen's cheeks.
“We'll make you who you truly can be," the harlequin says as the white-robed clown steps up, rolling out a long tape measure. He lays it upon her arms around her waist, keeping that morose expression the whole time. “Tell us everything you desire in yourself," the harlequin continues.
“I want…" Ailen says, gulping, closing her eyes. “I want to have no more responsibilities."
“Yes!"
“I want no more need to think!"
“Good!"
“I want to run amok with no consequences!"
“A delightful idea. Let's put a smile on that face, shall we?"
The harlequin's arms drape over Ailen, pulling up to reveal a strap that wraps around her mouth, a gag that fits inside, keeping her from saying anything. Attached to it is a rosy smile which keeps her grinning the whole time.
“There's freedom in silence. No accountability and no explaining yourself. It's just pure fun!"
She shudders and squirms as the sad clown produces a large pair of scissors from his robe. All around her, scraps of her clothing fall into a rainbow of confetti. Where she is exposed, the crimson woman follows, slathering on more of that white makeup, covering her natural tones with the stark reminder of anonymity.
“You will be like us, and you will see the silliness in the world like us, and when your day is through, ah, you'll return from whence you came, with no consequences for any of your actions."
The harlequin kicks her chair, which shatters, sending her falling forward.
Ailen reaches out, her hands falling into long gloves, her legs dangling as long striped fabric creates colorful thigh-highs to wear, enveloping her in a shield of scrutiny.
And the white-faced, smile-stuck thing rolls out as more garish colors slip onto her body, hugging tightly to her form, exposing her shapely body in its garish tightness just before ejecting her from this darkened chamber and into the carnival grounds again.
As she sits on her knees, her legs going in either direction, she opens her eyes, watching so many people watch her.
She giggles through the gag and hops up to her feet.
Oh yes. Now, it is time to clown!