“You’re sure about this,” Charles asked. “Absolutely sure?”

Fred, his right hand man, looked almost apologetic. “Yeah Boss, I’m sure. I uh, double-checked to make sure I had the details right, then I checked again.”

Between them, on the cot, was a curvy woman with a dark pixie cut. She was naked, firmly hogtied and ring-gagged. Her head swiveled back and forth as she desperately tried to catch enough of a glimpse of one of their faces, anything to get some kind of hint of what they were taking about.

Fred had come in the night before to tease her about being sold. Her information had been up for weeks, all of her friends had been sold before her, so Fred had plenty of fun telling her the details. He liked doing that, and this would be his last chance before they picked up another group. But then the rest of the details had come in the next morning, and when he told his boss...

“Look, what a man does with his property is his business,” Charles said. He ignored the indignant groan and glare from the woman at once again being called property. “But this is... definitely a first.”

“I know, but the buyer was pretty clear about it. He wants her dressed up as a clown.”

The woman stopped dead. “Hmmph?” The indignation in her muffled voice was gone, replaced with confusion.

“Yeah, I was surprised too,” Fred said directly to her, with none of the usually mocking tone he reserved for slaves. “And not a sexy clown, like that comic chick. Like a real clown, with the big shoes and the baggy clothes and everything.”

The woman stared. Charles didn’t blame her. He wasn’t one to kink shame, but this had been out of left field.

“Well, the customer is always right,” Charles said with a shrug. “I don’t get it. But if he’s willing to pay for it, and the extra fees from how much of a pain it’ll be to get her dressed up, that’s what he’ll get.”

“Yeah, I got the stuff on my way over today.”

“Good, get her ready.”

The captive woman didn’t start struggling again until she saw the face-paint.