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Grimm sat at his desk, overlooking a sprawl of drafts, thumbnails, and photos. A new act joining the troupe was always cause for celebration, but it comes with lots of work. Not for the first time tonight, Grimm is considering re-doing every poster the troupe would be using, it had been a few years and she would readily admit that his art style had changed. She sighs, pushing his mask up to rub his face, pressing his palms to his eyes. She'd been working on this for a few hours, now, and it was wearing on him, rather predictably.His focus was brought back to reality when a soft moan came from under his desk.She had almost forgotten.The new member of the Grimm Troupe was an absolute doll. On stage, a clown that could work themself into any other act, enhancing the already impressive show rather than distracting. Skilled enough in various arts to know how to look like they were doing them wrong. Quick enough to pick up anything else if needed. As a side act they were great with kids and could bring a not insignificant crowd in close enough to buy tickets. As a hand one could hardly ask for better, strong and willing to throw themselves fully into any task asked of them.Any task.And they didn't ask for much in return.Grimm looks down at the debauched clown under the desk and pressed his boot more firmly on its tcock. Face schooled into a careful neutral, she watches as they grind itself to completion, certainly not for the first time tonight.She didn't need to acknowledge it. She wasn't expected to watch and pay attention. When they came into his tent they were clear that they didn't want to be a bother, not at all. It was just that their hands hurt, and they weren't satisfied yet, and please if she would just step on them...But that was hours ago.So when it whines in disappointment, she sighs. "Still not done, you slut?" The reproach is feigned but that doesn't change how she grinds his boot against them and feels the loss of traction as it gets hopelessly wetter."Please, just a little bit longer, master, please..." Poor, desperate little clown. Grimm almost feels bad taking the slicked sole of his boot off of them. They whine, "master...."Grimm crosses the dirtied boot over his knee, watching its eyes track the movement hungrily. "Clean it."They eagerly lean in and press its tongue to the slicked up sole, and Grimm watches its pathetic display keenly. It's been hours, after all, and she could use a break. His eyes narrow as she notices it's hand moving between their legs, but they're too distracted by their own taste to notice.As soon as they touch themself she makes sure to display his disapproval. Grabbing it's hair and pulling it away from his boot, she growls. "And here I thought your hands hurt, or was that a lie for your Masters attention?"It gasps at the pull, and whimpers when scolded, "no, no Master please, it wasn't-"But Grimm cuts them off, "Then keep your hands off my toy until I'm done with it, understand?""Y-yes master.""Good..." Grimm puts his boot back up to their lips and lets it go.Allowing it to finish cleaning themself off his boot, Grimm turns his attention back to his desk. She needs to be done with this for now. The morning will reveal details she was missing. She clears a space in the middle of the mess for something else.A smaller piece of black canvas, a scrap, really. Holes in all four corners to hang it by. Bright, shimmering red paint on the calligraphers brush. It takes no time for his practiced hand to write out in flowing letters."Free use!
One-Night Special Performance"Grimm looks between the sign and the advertised body. Yes, it would do. She pushes away from the table and when the clown looks up at him with a question in its eyes she smiles."Now," she takes the sign in his hands and shows it, "What do you think about this one?" Their eyes go huge, and they nod enthusiastically. "Yes? Do you want to be tied up and displayed with it, you little slut? Let the whole troupe at you?""Yes! Yes please, Master, I- I want-""You want to be used."They nod."Say it.""I want to be used, I want everyone to satisfy themselves with me, please, let me be filled with the troupe?""Good fucktoy." Grimm pet it under the table, and called, "Brumm? Are you in here?"The telltale hum of the accordionist came from somewhere in the tent, because of course he was there. His horned mask appears between draped canvas and he humms again, questioning."Would you move one of the thicker sleeping mats outside?" Grimm says it like a question. It isn't, of course, so Brumm nods and disappears again. Grimm grins, sharpened teeth glinting in the low lamplight, as she opens a drawer and produces a length of black and red rope. "Now, stand up."In the process, the clown bangs their head on the underside of the desk and Grimm laughs to hear its swearing in bright contrast to their earlier moans and whimpers. They stand on shaky legs, presenting themself for its master.
