Clowns In the Funhouse: Colette the Mime (Patreon)

Returning to The Funhouse, the brothel staffed entirely by clowns. Someone pointed out that they should have been on the recent input poll under all the kinks, and dammit they were right. It’s one of my recurring complaints with Patreon of not being able to update polls with more options.

But squeaky wheels and all that! The comment got me thinking about them and I went back to Funhouse. My original idea for this chapter was doing a shortstack and amazon duo I’d mentioned last time, but I realized on my list of characters that Colette the mime was there from the start without a full story of her own. It took a long time of figuring out the weird shit a mime who could do actual mime things could accomplish in the bedroom. So it gets goofy and hopefully pretty sexy.

I inevitably went back for more at The Funhouse. A cheap brothel full of clown girls was too good to pass up on. I had even considered getting onto Knock-Knock, the dating app for picking up clowns, but with work as busy as it was I didn’t really have time for a full on relationship.

When I entered the colorful waiting room, the ladies were lounging around in waiting as usual. Several eyes lit up as they waved or openly greeted me as a regular by now. I saw a few new (and painted) faces among the circus of sexworkers, but I’d already had my mind set on trying out Colette was available.

And there she was. The mime sat on one of the sofas in a black leotard that went from her full chest to all the way down to her slender body. Her pale face had some small marks of red or black, and she wore a small red beret on her silky and long black hair. Her painted eyes batted as they met mine and she waved a gloved hand at me. She winked as she leaned back on… not quite the edge of the soda. There was no arm rest on her end, but she reclined as comfortably as if there was one there. In fact, as I looked closer there was a tiny expresso sitting on the same invisible table that she took a dainty sip from.

Colette just did things like that, and I was well beyond asking questions on how clowns worked.

“Afternoon, Colette. Are you free?”

The French brunette (overly French, even, if you asked me) raised her eyebrows and removed her beret, standing up with a dutiful bow and flourish. She held up all five fingers, counting down off them before tapping on her wrist. She moved the hands on an invisible watch until I nodded.

“Don’t worry. I know the rates and I’ll pay extra as usual.”

Colette smiled her thin, red lips and pinched her fingers together, giving a pleased little “chef’s kiss” gesture. Apart from the smacking of her lips and the occasional breath or giggle, I don’t think she ever made a sound. She gave an inviting wave of her hand down the hall and lead me to her room.

By now I’d picked up that the ladies all had their own special setup. The inflatable milf Big Top had helium tanks and balloons around hers while Tada the acrobat had hers set up with gymnastic rings. I was still surprised when Colette opened the door and showed… almost nothing.

Her room was mostly white with some artsy black stripes on the walls and floor. A small, proudly hung painting of the Eifel Tower was mounted on her wall and several baguettes (one with a decent bite taken out of it) hovered in one corner as if inside some invisible basket. A large but simple bed was against the far wall, but for how spacious the room was it was pretty empty. Even as I stepped inside, the faint chatter of the girls just instantly… stopped. If it weren’t for my own footsteps and an awkward clearing of my throat, I’d have thought I went def. The mime had even managed to soundproof her room.

Colette strode gracefully to her bed before she twirled and sat down on the mattress. She smiled with her ruby lips and patted the spot beside her. If we were getting straight to business, I had no problem with joining her… until I hit my leg on something. I let out a short yell and tripped over a footrest or a coffee table or something, but Colette’s eyes went wide. She gave a quick warning gesture before she dove at me, holding out her hands to catch me. Her hands didn’t quite reach me, but I felt my face connect with something invisible, soft and pillowy in her hands.

“Got it,” I grunted as I helped myself up. “Invisible stuff. Don’t worry, I’m fine,” I assured her.

Colette still took my hand and guided me gently to the bed. She carefully maneuvered me around something or other this time, and I didn’t bother to ask what it was. At least I was clear of the invisible minefield once I got to her bed.

Once we were settled, Colette went right back into her seductive smile. She kissed my lips softly, practically brush strokes with her painted lips. I started to kiss her back and brought my hands to her sides, feeling up her lean body and plump breasts. I gave them an experimental squeeze, starting to pride myself on being able to tell the difference between the way each clowngirl I’d been with honked a little differently. Colette’s tits were the only thing that weren’t silent about her, but even their noise came out as a muted whisper. Like that wheezing noise you get when you’re trying to get the last drop of ketchup or shampoo out of an empty squeeze bottle.

She certainly seemed to enjoy it, writhing sensually in my grasp. I let my hands slide under her leotard, peeling down the shoulder straps to reveal more of her lightly tanned skin. Her breath and quietly honking tits became the only noises, slowly growing louder as the room heated up and we started to undress each other.

Colette parted her lips from mine as she raised her hips, wiggling expertly out of the last of her bodysuit. She tossed it aside, her little beret somehow remaining on top of her head as she got to work on my pants. I started to reach out to grope her some more, but to feel my hand bump against another invisible wall.

Colette waggled her eyebrows at me, rapping a finger against the same surface. She smiled proudly as she leaned against it, making her plump tits squash against it like a pane of glass. She wiggled her shoulders to slide them against the invisible wall like an overly sexualized carwash, teasing me as she finished with my pants.

Her teasing certainly worked, considering how hard I was when I got out of my pants. Colette clapped a hand to her cheek in exaggerated surprise as she stared in awe at my erection.

“Oh, it is not that big,” I chided her. “Especially to a clown.”

Colette wagged a finger in refusal before tapping it to my lips. She puckered her lips as she squeezed one of her breasts, miming a shushing noise along with the noise that came with it.

Colette lowered her head and committed to pleasing me again, running her hushing finger down my chest as she sucked me off. My dick pressed deep inside her mouth until I felt her breath against my balls, drawing her head back with a ring of red lipstick around the base of my cock before she went on sucking.

For a seemingly mute woman, she certainly knew how to use her mouth for at least one thing. Her head bobbed with her beret swaying atop her head and breasts dragging along my lower legs until she softly popped her lips off me. The ever-present silence amplified every little huff of her breath and smack of her lips as she raised her eyes up to mine. She let a hand wander to her side as she licked her lips and plucked a… something off of something else. She held it between two fingers as she held her invisible whatever up at me.

“I’m not sure what that is,” I admitted.

Colette rolled her eyes and gave a quick tearing motion. She reached down to fondle my balls as her other hand pressed down on my cockhead. I felt a soft, smooth sense of pressure as she slowly ran her hand down over me. I felt a residual warmth in the wake of her hand, so even when she let go there was a gentle squeezing to it.

“Did you just give me an invisible condom?” I ventured.

Colette gave me the “okay” sign and reached out to her wall. She picked up something in both hands, acting like it weighed something significant before offering it to me. I took a deep breath, still processing the condom part as I took the invisible sex toy from her. I wouldn’t be going to a brothel full of clowns if I weren’t feeling adventurous.

I had to feel over the object to realize from the texture that it was a set of chains attached to what felt like leather straps. I looked back at Colette, who turned away from me. She went to her knees and bent over, raising her bubble butt towards me and smiling over her shoulder as she folded her arms behind her back.

“Got it,” I confirmed as I got to work.

I pressed my hardon against her ass, teasing the very edge of her pussy as I hotdogged between her buns. Colette’s breathing came out as a soft sigh, a practical racket coming from the otherwise silent sexworker. She bobbed her ass against me in reciprocation as I figured out where the cuffs were and fastened them onto her wrists. I gave a tug to ensure they were fit on tight before moving the chain between her legs to clasp her ankles as well. Colette opened her mouth as she turned her head to watch me, nodding towards the bed at a seemingly random spot.

I felt around and found what I suspected; what seemed to be a slotted rubber ball with some more straps on it.

“Seriously? You want me to gag you?” I asked incredulously. Colette’s eyes went incredibly wide and she nodded vigorously. Of course a mime would be into ball gags…

“I’m not kink shaming,” I said as I fumbled the sex toy into place around her face. “I’m just saying it feels like it defeats the purpose. How’s that?”

Colette let out a muffled moan, which meant that somehow she sounded even louder with the gag on. Her mouth looked like it was stuck open, letting me see down her open mouth and her hanging tongue like it was waiting for me. I didn’t dare try to mess with mime physics and try going into her gaping throat, so I just gave her breast a firm slap.

“Glad to hear it, slut. Just holler if it gets too rough for you.”

Colette rolled her eyes at me, but her gaping mouth smiled as she turned to face forward. With her arms bound, she could only lay with her chest down and ass up in front of me. I gladly slid inside her, finding the kinky mime’s pussy to be incredibly wet. She gave another tiny moan, suggesting it was driving her wild.

I was only a few slow, savoring pumps into fucking the bound clown when she held up a single finger. I stopped halfway inside her as she just moved her hands away as if the bonds weren’t there anymore. She held up her hands in front of her as if sizing up a photo or a painting, just to give a firmly planting gesture like she was sticking something on a wall. She quickly snapped her hands back behind her in the same helpless position she had been in. She gave me another “okay” gesture from her seemingly bound state.

“What was that about?” I asked, starting to pump into her again. She moaned and raised her head, arching her back to grind harder against me. I could faintly hear and feel her bondage chains brushing against me as I used her supposedly trapped body. Colette’s eyes fluttered and she struggled to keep her head up before she nodded ahead of her, slightly to her right. When I looked, there was a mirror image of us looking back. Her face pumped slightly towards us with every thrust I took, allowing us to see ourselves in action.

“Did you just make an invisible mirror?”

The gawking and increasingly drooling mime nodded rapidly.

“How the fuck does that even work?”

Colette just wiggled her hips, grinding her ass and pussy against my lap. Her slit was starting to leak like a faucet at all the humiliation she was guiding me through. After making me tie her up and watching herself in the act, I thought I’d lean into it.

I slapped her ass hard enough that I left a handprint on her tanned cheeks. A noise like a collapsing accordion sounded a split second after the slapping sound itself.

“You pervy little honker,” I hissed as I started pumping her harder. Her gawking, moaning breaths and softly squeaking tits joined in the quiet symphony of her aroused body.

“This is what you wanted, you dirty pieface? A human sucker to come in here and put some cream in your pie? You just wanted to ride my merry-go-round ‘til you scream, don’t you, my little mademoiselle?”

I didn’t fuck as many clowns as I have and watch this much clown porn without picking up some of their lingo. Colette’s eyes and mouth went even wider as she drooled over her pillow, arching her back to move her bound body in a steady return to my humping. She’d push back every time I pushed in, getting me to thrust past her clit faster each time we grew closer to syncing up.

“You just love being my quiet little slut, don’t you? Dying for some littlefoot dick to use up your every fucking hole,” I grunted as I started getting close to finishing. The wide-eyed mime was clearly getting there herself as she wiggled her arms, sliding them free from her bonds again. She watched herself at work in the mirror, staring at whatever it was she saw with her invisible powers at work. It became a lot clearer as she reached out and started making jerking motions, clearly stroking off two imaginary dicks into her face as her eyes went half-lidded with pleasure.

“Just can’t get enough, huh? You fucking earn this creamy load then, slut. Too goofy to even follow your own rules, you black and white bimbo? You deserve to get fucked by all those invisible cocks, you horny little-”

Colette gave another of her nearly silent moans as there was a sudden noise like whipped cream coming out of the can. She tossed her head back as two streams of what genuinely looked and smelled like whipped cream shot out of nowhere, spraying from where she was stroking off and coating her face and tits. Her eyes rolled back as she caught and rubbed some of it over herself, painting her front like some kind of busty desert.

It was an odd sight to see but the strangely erotic sight still got me to bust. I thrust myself all the way inside her and reached around to squeeze her slippery tits, rubbing the cream in and honking her tits as I came deep in her pussy. Her body tensed and twitched, milking out my orgasm as the heat of her invisible condom pulsed around me. Her whole body suddenly trembled as she came. Her mouth hung wide open, pulsing and clenching in what looked like a muted scream of raw pleasure.

There was the stuff I was used to; the spray of damp confetti hitting my cock, a ticklish sensation I was starting to love. I just didn’t know the music was coming with it. Some horns blared as a sultry woman’s voice belted out some singing in French, and I don’t know if she threw her voice or if it was just something about being an overly French mime but the singing seemed to come from her pussy.

“Alons enfant de la patrie!

Le jour de gloire est arrivé~!”

I caught my breath for a second as the last of my cum dribbled out inside her before I patted her on the back for her attention.

“Colette… did you just cum the French national anthem?”

“Contre nous de la tyrannie!”

“Oh my god, does it just keep going?”

Colette’s head rolled wearily as she gave a gesture to show something very big.

“It was a big one, huh?” I asked, sliding out of her to sit back on the bed. Colette sighed dramatically and laid back on her pillow, the patriotic song of revolution and tyranny still ringing out from her between her thighs. I wasn’t feeling confident enough to leave the room without tripping over something invisible, so I just patted her on the ass.

“You know you girls are great, and that was hot as hell… but I was exactly as satisfied and confused as I thought I’d be from fucking a mime.”

Colette wrapped her legs around my waist, smiling as she snuggled up closer. She hugged herself around me and shrugged.

“C’est la vie,” she said simply before kissing me on the cheek, leaving another red lipstick mark judging by my face in the invisible mirror.

“You can talk?” I asked quizzically.

Colette gave a waggling so-so gesture. As usual, I learned more about clowns with every visit to The Funhouse, just to gain more questions.

“Well I promise I won’t tell anybody,” I chuckled. “I know how to keep a secret.”

Colette smirked and ran an imaginary zipper along her lips in agreement.