“And now ladies and gentlemen, Ovhan will put his acrobatic prowess on display in this death defying act!”
The voice boomed throughout the Big Top, to shouts and cheers of joy. The audience was on a high, popcorn and circus peanuts abound. The previous act had them in high spirits, and the next was to tide them over while the circus hands set up for the final act.
“what? but all my acrobatics are in the water!” the otter complained, as he hurriedly dressed in the provided clown suit. “What do they expect me to do out there?!”
“Don’t worry about it kid, it’s a stretch act. Just make them laugh and keep them entertained for a while while we set up. Follow the big guy’s lead,” a gruff rat worker says as he wedges a clown wig over Ovhan’s head, shoves a unicycle into his paws, and shoves him out onto the main ring. The lights are bright, and a large wolftaur, the ringmaster, is bowing to the crowd as they cheer and applaud, having just announced the next act, him!
The wolftaur trots over grinning, and gently takes the cycle from the unsure otter’s paws. “Hey kid, welcome to the stretch act, just follow my lead and we’ll be fine, keep the stuff simple, take a fall here or there to make them laugh.” With a wink he turns back to the crowd and holds the unicycle above his head, to more cheers, and a few laughs for the sharper audience members.
The wolftaur makes a big show of figuring out the cycle, looking to the otter for help, who gives and exaggerated shrug, and then goes back to turning the unicycle over in his paws. Finally, he puts the cycle on the ground, and makes a clumsy attempt at mounting it. He falls forward and lands on all four paws, the otter tumbling out of the way, and both look back at the troublesome prop. He makes a second attempt at it, and manages to stay upright, Ovhan rushing around him waving his hands at the large unstable taur, drawing more laughs from the audience.
After a few minutes of this, the wolftaur started looking much more stable, even able to do a few small hops around the center ring. He gestures for the otter to come closer, and the wolftaur takes his paws and pulls him off his feet, slinging him onto his back! The crowd cheers as the otter holds onto the wolftaur’s fur and waves to the audience as the wolftaur make a lap around the ring.
The wolftaur shrugs his shoulders and mumbles for the otter to get up on his shoulders, and to do a flip or something ,really start showing off. Literally out of his wet element, the otter nods and climbs up, unintentionally making a show of keeping his balance as he nearly falls off. The crowd loves it and laughs, another cheer coming from the stands. As the wolftaur makes another lap around the ring he mutters, “Step it up, do a hand stand on my muzzle or something”.
Trying to keep his balance on the rolling wolftaur, Ovhan lowered his hands to the large wolftaur’s muzzle and kicks his feet into the air. The crowd holds their breath as the wolftaur comes to a stop, balancing in one place. “Time for the big finish, one hand,” he says, tilting his muzzle up.
Ovhan struggles to maintain his balance, and catches a glimpse of he gaping maw and pulsing throat bellow him. Suddenly, the otter is very uncertain about how well his act went earlier that night, and hopes this act will be over soon so he can come down from this massive wolftaur. Luckily, the act was almost over.
The wolftaur jerks, the wheel on the unicycle rolling a bit, and Ovhan slips off the wolftaur’s muzzle. It happens in a matter of seconds, the otter sees the jaws yawn wider under him, and suddenly his arm is sliding along the slick warm pallet, through the tight ring into the throat,his forearm following, and suddenly his upper arm, shoulder, and everything goes dark and muffled as his head, neck, other shoulder, and back joins him!
It’s hot, tight, Ovhan can’t move, and the gasps from the crowd are muffled behind the thick flesh, the whooshing of the wolftaut’s massive lungs, and the heavy thudding of a heart, though he doesnt know if it’s his or the wolftaur’s. Just a scant few seconds later, he realizes he’s moved, and is squeezing into a slightly larger chamber, his hips and legs quickly following him. Gasping for breath in the humid chamber, he tries to right himself, and clutches the absurd clown wig which fell off when he slipped. There’s a loud rumbling and the muted words of the ringmaster, followed by a cheer he can hear though the stomach walls, and then things start swinging from side to side as the wolftaur starts walking off.
“BUUURRP! Oh, that clown tasted funny, i guess that’s why they called this a stretch act,” the wolftaur says loudly enough for the whole audience to hear, to a round of rancorous laughter. “And now ladies and gentlemen, our final act for the night!” With that he picks up the unicycle and trots backstage, his distended taur belly swaying from side to side, allowing the final act into the center ring.
Image C() Seth Triggs
Story (C) Taris Quickpaw