Work Text:
Mo Ran climbs out of the clown car, shaking his head to make his fluffy rainbow wig bounce. "Hello!" he greets the audience, squeaking his big red nose. "Welcome to the show!"
Behind him, Chu Wanning struggles to balance on the bed. It’s barely a foot square, but it’s several feet high. His giant red clown shoes dangle off the side, not quite reaching the ground.
Mo Ran turns back to the clown car. "Come on out, friends!" he invites.
Taxian-jun climbs out, unfolding himself from the tiny space. "Hello!" he says, waving to the audience. "This Venerable One is ready to perform!"
He moves aside, and a slightly younger Mo Ran climbs out. "Hello!" he says, waving.
The slightly younger Mo Ran moves aside, and another Mo Ran climbs out.
This one looks almost identical to the first one. Maybe the hint of fang between his bright red lips is a little different.
In unison, they turn to Chu Wanning. "Hello, Wanning," they intone, grinning. "Ready to play?"
Four pairs of bright, cheerful eyes focus on the flower on Chu Wanning’s lapel. Slowly, a drop of liquid forms, then drips onto Chu Wanning’s colorful clown onesie.
The four other clowns’ red-painted smiles curve up into unsettling grins. Together, they take a step - their big red shoes squeak loudly on the floor. Then another step, and another, until they surround Chu Wanning’s bed.
Tenderly, the first Mo Ran reaches out. His gloved fingers brush Chu Wanning’s big, rubbery nose, then grasp it firmly. It responds with a long, loud honk in the sudden silence.
All four Mo Rans watch intently as the first Mo Ran gives a gentle pull.
The nose separates from Chu Wanning’s face with a quiet noise.
"Wanning," Taxian-jun whispers, stepping closer. His shoes squeak, and he waits for them to stop before continuing. "You look naked like this. Just your natural nose, sitting on your face with nothing to cover it. Aren’t you embarrassed, letting all these people see you?"
Chu Wanning turns his face away, squeezing his eyes shut. It’s clear that he’s blushing under the thick white paint on his cheeks.
The youngest Mo Ran squats. A comically loud ripping noise fills the air, and he stands back up abruptly, covering his ass with his hands. "Don’t look!" he cries. "I don’t usually wear these, I promise!"
Through his gloved fingers, boxers with red heart patterns are clearly visible.
"Haha," Taxian-jun says, pointing at him. "This Venerable One would never wear something like that! You look stupid!"
The Mo Ran with the heart boxers hangs his head, looking ashamed of himself.
"Did you think it was more respectful of Shizun to wear those, so he wouldn’t be the only one humiliated?" Taxian-jun mocks. "Don’t you know he likes being humiliated? This Venerable One knows very well!"
The Mo Ran with the fangs scoots quietly around him and begins to untie Chu Wanning’s shoes.
The first Mo Ran leans close to his ear. "Those shoes are huge, Wanning," he stage-whispers.
It carries across the stage, and Taxian-jun and the Mo Ran with the heart boxers jump in surprise and whirl around with hungry looks, distracted. They peer around the fluffy rainbow wig of the Mo Ran with fangs, trying to see Chu Wanning’s feet.
"If they’re sized correctly for your feet," the first Mo Ran continues, "how big must your toes be? Would they even fit in my mouth?"
The Mo Ran with the fangs slips the first shoe off.
All five of them stare down at Chu Wanning’s completely normal right foot.
"Your feet are so tiny," the first Mo Ran says, seamlessly transitioning. "They must have been swamped in those shoes. Won’t you let me give you a foot massage? You must ache."
The Mo Ran with the fangs takes off the second shoe, revealing a completely normal left foot.
A drop of drool hits the floor. Taxian-jun glances toward the culprit: the Mo Ran with the heart boxers. But even he can’t criticize such understandable thirst for Chu Wanning’s perfect toenails, so well-proportioned and delicate.
Above them, Chu Wanning’s lapel flower has soaked his clown onesie. Through the bright, swirling colors on the fabric, one dark nipple is visible.
For a beat, everything is still.
And then all four Mo Rans descend on their Wanning, ripping off his clothes, revealing a second pair of lips painted just as brightly red as the lips on his face - though this paint is smeared, slick dripping through it onto the tiny bed Chu Wanning is still struggling to balance on.
Taxian-jun leans in, swiping his tongue through it. Suddenly, his face transforms into a comical grimace.
"THAT TASTES SO BAD!" he cries. "The paint has contaminated my Wanning! I have to get it off!"
He gives it another lick, then grimaces again.
And then another lick, and another grimace.
The other three Mo Rans glance at each other, shrug, and pull out long balloons, beginning to inflate them with exaggerated puffs of air.
Taxian-jun finishes, eventually, and staggers away, holding his stomach. "Gross," he moans, but Chu Wanning is shivering through aftershocks on the bed, pussy completely paint-free.
The other three Mo Rans step forward, their shoes squeaking as they surround Chu Wanning’s bed. Chu Wanning blinks up at them, panting.
"Hello, Wanning," the first Mo Ran says, grinning. He grabs Chu Wanning’s wrists, looping a balloon around them. His fingers, skillful even encased in white fabric, twist the inflated rubber into a pair of handcuffs.
Chu Wanning pulls weakly at the bonds. But he can’t break free. Mo Ran’s balloon bondage is simply too secure.
The Mo Ran with the heart boxers moves forward to bind his ankles, and the Mo Ran with the fangs loops his balloon lovingly around Chu Wanning’s neck, gloved fingers sensually brushing over his pulse point as he does.
Chu Wanning shivers through another aftershock.
And then all four Mo Rans squeak over to the clown car.
Chu Wanning watches them with wide eyes as they turn around, holding pie tins filled with fluffy whipped cream.
"You like creampies, right, Wanning?" the first Mo Ran asks. There’s a giant grin on his painted face. "Let’s go, friends!"
And he tosses the pie tin.
Splat. It lands on Chu Wanning’s chest, then slowly slides down, the rim catching on his nipple. He moans.
Splat! Splat! Chu Wanning gasps as two more pies land on his body, smearing cream over his skin.
Then - splat! - Taxian-jun’s pie lands on his face, and doesn’t slide off.
The first Mo Ran gives an exaggerated gasp, bringing a gloved hand to his mouth. "Oh no!" he says theatrically, raising his eyebrows at the audience. "Accidental breathplay!"
The four Mo Rans troop over, then hesitate.
"Should we wait?" the Mo Ran with fangs asks in a stage whisper. "This is very sexy."
They stare at Chu Wanning.
Chu Wanning shakes his head, sending the pie tin flying, and takes a gulp of air, eyes squeezed shut. His face is covered in whipped cream, just like the rest of his body.
The first Mo Ran leans forward, swiping a tongue over his nipple. "Yum!" he proclaims as Chu Wanning flinches in surprise.
The Mo Ran with fangs gasps, pointing his finger up in the air, a comically exaggerated expression of inspiration on his face. "I have an idea!" he says, and pulls out his clown horn. He honks it once. Honk.
It’s long and thick, with a bulbous honker at the end. The metal of the rest of the horn is cold and hard, extending out with a slight curve.
He flips it around, aiming the bulb between Chu Wanning’s legs, toward his thoroughly creamed pussy.
The other three Mo Rans gasp in unison, then nod so hard that Taxian-jun’s fluffy rainbow wig falls off. He quickly snatches it back up and sticks it back on, lopsided.
The Mo Ran with fangs nudges the horn bulb at Chu Wanning’s entrance.
Chu Wanning inhales sharply, unable to see what’s being done to him. There’s just too much whipped cream on his face for him to open his eyes.
The bulb of the horn pushes forward.
"It’s not going to fit," the Mo Ran with heart boxers says in a hushed voice.
The Mo Ran with fangs pushes harder.
And harder.
And then he gives one last shove, and the huge bulb disappears into Chu Wanning’s tiny pussy with a loud honk.
The Mo Rans erupt into cheers.
Then they look at each other.
The first Mo Ran turns toward the audience. "That’s the end of the show!" he says cheerfully. Behind him, the other three Mo Rans rip off their clown onesies. "This next part is private."
Beneath the clown onesies are yet more clown onesies. The other Mo Rans rip those off too, tossing them into a slowly growing pile.
And then they rip off the clown onesies that were underneath those ones.
It’s unclear whether Chu Wanning knows what’s going on. He’s still covered in whipped cream, bound by balloons, doing his best to balance on the tiny bed with a clown horn shoved in his pussy. Every so often, he lets out an overwhelmed gasp, and a tiny honk sounds from between his legs.
The first Mo Ran squeaks across the stage, pulling a curtain closed. "Goodbye, everyone!" he calls, waving. "See you again next time!"
Behind him, the other Mo Rans rip off their final clown onesies, leaving them naked except for their giant red shoes.
The Mo Ran with fangs turns slightly toward the audience, allowing a glimpse of his brightly painted, fully erect cock. What is that at the base of it? Is it a knot…?
The curtain closes. Behind it, shoes squeak. A long, loud honk sounds. Something metal clatters onto the ground.
And then Chu Wanning cries out before going abruptly silent, as if something has been stuffed into his mouth.
The only sounds after that are the loud squeaks of shoes, comically exaggerated gasps of breath from all four Mo Rans, and wet noises of skin against skin.
A large sign falls from above, settling over the curtain. Thanks for coming! We hope you enjoyed the show!
Another sign flutters down, settling under the first one. Please leave now. Goodbye.
And a third sign. Really. We mean it. Taxian-jun gets possessive. You don’t want to be around for that.
A fourth: THE END :-)