Cirque de Surreal by Velveteen

Darkness fell over the circus, the witching hour where all manor of oddities emerge from their hiding places.  But who would dare explore such a place? It was none other than Steve, the Pube, and his faithful monkey companion, Jitters. The weather was closing in.  Winds were screeching through the tattered big-top tethers, calling to the freaks and unfathomable horrors that roamed the area. Steve decided he must make shelter before the rain came and doused his spirits further. Steve was lucky.  He found a nearby unicycle to make his escape. Faithful monkey companion safely upon his shoulders, he made use of his childhood in the circus to ride the unicycle into the bowels of the big-top tent.

Inside it was barely lit.  In the shadowy corners were mannequins holding all manners of terrible devices -- such as the pear of torture. Tending to their keeping was a surprising figure: Mother Theresa, in her domina attire, making sure the mannequins... no... captured guests did not make their escape. Soft moans of fearful delight and terrified pleasure set the background noise for this adventure. Steve was shocked, strangely aroused by the sight, but, desperate to escape. He ran into the back room, seeking sanctuary.

Unfortunately for Steve, his monkey companion Jitters ran smack into the bearded lady, brandishing an enema bag and a pair of cuffs! There was nothing Steve could do.  Her masculinity far overpowered his feeble attempts at escape and protest. He was captured, bent over and bound to a wooden horse. His monkey companion was thrown into a cage to be witness to these torments. Steve's clothes were torn away, discarded like the trash they were to become. The nozzle was entered into his rear, suddenly filling his bowels with cold coffee. He cried out in discomfort, but was swiftly silenced by a dildo coated in Nutella, wielded by the ringmaster in her rainbow suit. She was fabulous, in every sense of the word: from her inexplicably good sense of style to her matching makeup.

Steve took his throat-deep penetration like the girl he had become, gagging every time the cruel ringmaster took him. Though watery eyes he spied his next torment, but it was not what he had hoped for. A full leather bondage outfit, straight-jacket and hobble skirt with beautiful ballet boots was being brought out. While still full of cold coffee he was strapped up in the straight-jacket (to prevent any escape attempts). Before he was able to make a mess, he was thrown into the bathroom to relieve himself. With a wicked grin, the ringmaster followed suit closely behind him, fire-hose in tow, to make sure he was squeaky clean.

Now dressed in a restrictive hobble skirt, he was led out. A collar was placed around his neck and a wig of pure cotton candy was affixed to his head. The leash for his collar was attached firmly to his neck at one end, and to the saddle of an elephant at the other end. His monkey companion, now in tuxedo, was placed in his cage atop another elephant, to act as backup dancer for this big performance. From the wings of the back room, two clown cars drove out, packed full with the painted faces of the ringmaster's minions. Bursting forth from their motor vehicles, 14 clowns led a parade of kinky elephants into the streets of town -- to display their new acquisition.