Hours before the show.
Isolde moved slowly.
Her eyes opened little by little, still clouded, her body heavy as if she were returning from a very distant place. A sigh escaped her lips as she tried to get her bearings.
— Woke up, gorgeous?
The voice came from above.
Soft. Playful. Dangerous.
Isolde blinked… and then she felt it.
A light weight on her back. A different warmth. Familiar… but unexpected.
When she turned her face slightly, she saw her.
Jestra Trix.
Sitting on her with an almost feline grace, body leaning forward, black hair falling in waves almost touching Isolde's body. Small bells jingled softly with every tiny movement, creating a subtle melody in the silence of the room.
Her smile was crooked, provocative — as if she knew exactly the effect she was causing.
— You sleep like a rock… — Jestra murmured, tilting her head, eyes shining with curiosity and amusement. — Or maybe you were somewhere more interesting?
Her fingers slid lightly through the air, as if still feeling echoes of magic.
— Lady Élodiane said you could help me with the circus… — she continued, in a light tone, almost casual, but loaded with intention. — So, my dear… I thought it best to come get you personally.
Isolde stared at her in silence for a moment.
Traces of the dream — or whatever it had been — still pulsed in her mind. Sensations that hadn't completely disappeared.
Her dark eyes fixed on Jestra's.
— Circus…? — she repeated, voice still low, hoarse from sleep. — Do you always come in like this… without warning?
Jestra laughed softly.
A gentle sound… but full of secrets.
She leaned in a little more, bringing her face closer to Isolde's, as if about to share a secret.
— Only when it's worth it.
The bells jingled again.
And, for an instant, the air between the two seemed to carry something more — something invisible, but impossible to ignore.
Jestra pulled back lightly, supporting herself on her hands.
— So… — she said, smiling sideways. — Are you going to stay lying there… or come with me to see something really interesting?
Isolde held Jestra's gaze for a few more seconds, feeling the delicious weight of her on her back, the jingling of the bells echoing like a whispered invitation. The dream still throbbed in her veins — the garden, the pulsing petals, the women touching themselves to the rhythm of her thrusts —, but now there was something new there, something alive and present: Jestra Trix, with her black hair falling like a curtain of night, the red and yellow corset squeezing her curves in a way that made anyone forget sleep.
A slow and dangerous smile opened on Isolde's lips.
— Alright, little clown… — she murmured, voice deep and hoarse still loaded with sleep and residual lust. — You win. I'll go with you.
Jestra let out a little victory squeal, the bells jingling louder as she rolled to the side with feline grace and jumped off the bed. Isolde sat up slowly, the crimson sheets sliding down her dark-red skin, revealing her colossal breasts that swayed heavily with the movement, nipples still hard from the dream. Her thick cock, semi-erect, rubbed against her inner thigh, leaving a shiny trail of pre-cum on the fabric.
— Perfect! — Jestra clapped her hands, eyes shining as if she had won the biggest prize of the circus. — But before we go… we can't leave like this, right? You look beautiful , but the circus deserves a little more… spectacle. And without the full succubus vibe, let's let your elven side shine a bit more. No wings, no horns, just curves and fun.
She snapped her fingers.
A ruby-golden glow enveloped Isolde like hot smoke, but this time softer, more ethereal — without infernal fire, without demonic elements. The magic danced across her skin, rising from her thick thighs to her broad shoulders, shaping fabric out of nothing with a light, theatrical, purely circus touch.
The outfit formed.
It was an erotic and extravagant version of Jestra's costume — adapted to Isolde's tall and curvy body, with no trace of succubus or wings: everything vibrant, seductive and with an air of "show forbidden to minors".
The corset was bright yellow satin with thick black edges and cherry-red details, tight like a second skin, squeezing her colossal breasts until they formed a deep and hypnotic valley. The neckline was dramatic, in an inverted heart shape, leaving most of her breasts exposed — her pink nipples rubbing against the edge of the fabric with every breath, threatening to escape at any moment. Small golden bells hung from the thin straps of the corset, jingling softly like Jestra's.
Below the waist, a very short black shiny leather short with diamond side cutouts — her thick, muscular thighs were almost entirely on display, the dark-red skin contrasting beautifully with the black. The shorts were so tight and short that her thick cock was semi-exposed: the swollen head and prominent veins escaped over the top edge, swinging free with every step, while her heavy balls were molded by the leather, creating an obscene and impossible-to-ignore bulge. A thin red satin band crossed her crotch like a decorative belt, framing everything as if it were a performance piece.
On her legs, black fishnet stockings with red and yellow zigzag stripes rose to mid-thigh, ending in high mid-calf boots, glossy red patent heels. A short black satin cape with yellow lining fell only to the curve of her monumental ass, leaving her round and perky buttocks almost entirely exposed — the cape had black and red frilled edges, like a circus curtain that barely covered the essentials.
Jestra took a step back, admiring the result with her hands over her mouth, eyes wide with pure delight.
— My God of chaos… look at you! — she whispered, voice trembling with excitement. — A pure clown elf, vibrant and exposed… just curves, little bells and that thick cock jumping for everyone to see. Every step you take will make those breasts bounce, that cock slap against your thigh, those bells sing… the whole circus is going to lose their breath.
Isolde stood up slowly, feeling the tight fabric, the cool air brushing her semi-exposed cock, the little bells jingling in chorus with Jestra's. She took an experimental step — the boots clicked on the floor, the cape swayed revealing more of her ass, the thick cock swung heavily and lightly slapped against her inner thigh. The pleasure of the curse rose as always, but now mixed with a new sensation: theatrical lightness, sinful fun.
She looked at Jestra, dark-violet eyes shining with hunger and a touch of circus mischief.
— If it's for a show without wings or succubus face… — Isolde grabbed Jestra by her slim waist, pulling her flush against her body. Her hard cock rubbed against Jestra's belly over the corset, leaving a wet trail on the yellow fabric. — Then let's go, before I fuck you right here and we miss the whole circus.
Jestra laughed, hoarse and panting, bells jingling wildly as she rubbed lightly against Isolde.
— Promises, promises… — she whispered, nibbling on the elven earlobe. — But first the stage. After… who knows, maybe we don't do a private show up there, just for the luxury audience? Dressed like that, no one will resist.
She took a step back, extending her hand.
— Come on, clown elf. The circus is waiting to see what an elf in circus clothes can do.