Clown Escapades: Juggling Practice (Patreon)

WARNING THIS STORY CONTAINS: Female Smallfat Growth (Shrinking and Weight Gain)

WORDS: 3000

Lured to a tent by a mysterious clown, a trio of women have their bodies molded into the perfect shape and size to participate in a one of a kind juggling act.

This story was for an anonymous commissioner.

Commission Info: https://href.li/?http://eyebeast.deviantart.com/journal/Commission-Info-615442807

Clown icon created by the TheMerryWolf: https://bsky.app/profile/themerrywolf.bsky.social

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            In the pitch-black darkness of the forest on the edge of town, the only light was a phone replaying a video from earlier in the day. Staring at the screen, Marsha saw her own face complete with short, blonde hair and well-painted eyebrows. The past version of herself was wearing a bright pink top to match her lip gloss and jeans that had been great for wandering around, giving “fashion checks” to unsuspecting victims. Unfortunately, one of these people she and her entourage had chosen to mock for social media came with an unexpected response.

            The slap of a cream pie across Marsha’s face made her seethe with anger both in the past and even more so now in the present. Clenching her fingers around her replacement, pink top, she tried to contain her anger towards the strange woman who had humiliated her. This desire for revenge is what led her to this uninhabited part of town, with only her two “companions” to keep her safe.

            “Hey, save that rage for the actual confrontation,” Tonya said, taking a moment to push back her long, black hair to ensure she got a good shot of her friend with her camera. “The views on the earlier post are sky high,” she continued, her red flannel coat fluttering in the eerie breeze that blew by. “This follow up is sure to bring in a lot of eyes to your profile.”

            “S-should we really be doing this?” Dione asked, her curly, brown hair shaking as they made their way down through trail through the woods. Narrowly stopping a branch from tearing at her white tube top, she hurried her steps to catch up with her friends. “Going out into the middle of nowhere like this sounds straight out of a slasher movie.”

            “She has a point, especially with who gave the invite,” Tonya spoke up, waving around the flyer that had been left for them in the wake of the thrown pie. “Should make for really good footage if we live though.”

            “I don’t care about the views,” Marsha said as she marched on. “This is personal. That painted bitch is going to get what’s coming to her.”

            Continuing along the trail, the trio of women spotted their destination rising above the treetops. The loud, red and yellow colors of the tent made it seem strange that no one else was around. The lack of witnesses didn’t disturb Marsha as she continued on towards the entrance. With Tonya rolling the camera and Dione questioning if it was too late to come back, the blonde pushed through the flap to find who she was looking for.

            Standing in the center of the ring was the woman the three of them had seen earlier in the day. She was adorned in a pink polka dot, white dress with a puffy skirt and even puffier arms sleeves. Upon noticing the arrivals, the woman leaned on her big red shoes and gave a bow with her curly, cloud-like pink hair. As she rose back up, she gave a good view of the blue ball on her nose and the wide, toothy grin on her white-painted face.

            “Listen here, clown girl,” Marsha said as she stomped into the ring, not seeming to care about the ominous feeling brought about by the empty audience seats surrounding them. “I came here for one reason and one reason only: to make you pay for what you did to me.”

            “You tell her, Marsha,” Tonya cheered, getting the camera set for the perfect moment. “Give her everything you got!”

            Marsha put on her usual smug grin as she approached the still smiling clown. “First off, where the hell did you get this out-of-date outfit?” she asked, flipping her hand through the poofy skirt. “As if being a clown wasn’t creepy enough, you go on wearing outfits that could only be described as nightmarish.”

            Putting on a faux, surprised look, the clown did a twirl that nearly knocked her on her butt.

            “And really, white gloves?” Marsha continued as the clown balanced in place. “You’re really digging into the serial killer stereotype. Not like anyone wouldn’t believe that a freak like you could do something like that.”

            “O-okay, I think that’s enough,” Dione spoke up, noticing the uneasy grin on the clown’s face.

            “The hell are you talking about? I’m just getting started,” Marsha announced, turning away just as the clown made three, red balls slip out of her sleeves. “We’re not leaving until I’ve insulted each inch of fabric of this bitch’s stupid, out-of-date, frankly creepy-“

            “WATCH OUT!” Dione shouted out as the clown tossed one of the balls towards Marsha.

            The warning allowed the blonde to easily catch the sphere mid-air. Too busy looking at the ball in disgust, she missed the sight of her companions being tossed similar ones. A childish giggle brought her attention back towards the clown woman. The painted face’s smile shined brighter than ever under the spotlight as the mysterious woman raised up her hand and snapped her fingers.

            In an instant, Marsha’s view became a mess of black. Try as she might to struggle through her lack of sight, she only got a few moments to thrash about and feel her fabric prison. Each passing second seemed to take away more and more of her limbs’ mobility. A bloating feeling began to mix alongside her fear as she felt her bare bottom press against hard dirt. When her eyesight came back to her, it was through a set of gloved fingers peeking open the cloth cave to reveal the clown’s unsettling grin.

            A set of giant fingers plucked Marsha out from the dark space to pull her into the bright spotlight once more. At first, she struggled to squirm free or at the very least bite her captor’s fingers. She came to a stop once she saw how high she was. Looking down from the perch and seeing a familiar set of bright red shoes, she initially thought that the clown woman had become a giant. That theory lasted until she spotted a familiar pink top laying on the ground.

            The idea that she had shrunken down became of secondary concern to Marsha to the fact that she was now naked. As much as she wanted to cover herself up, her arms had been reduced to only her hands. The culprit for her diminished reach came in the form of the immense amount of fat that had been layered around her body. Though this extra mass came with a sizable boost to her breasts, it wasn’t worth having her backside being proportionally tripled. The majority of her sudden weight gain focused around the flabby, doughy gut that had taken over almost the entirety of her former, hourglass figure.

            “W-what did you do to me?” Marsha squeaked out to her tormentor.

            Rather than give an answer, the clown girl strode over to a pile of flannel and reached in with her free hand. What got pulled out was a similarly pudgy, small sphere adorned with familiar, long black locks. Tossing Tonya up and down a few times, the clown got to show off that, while she would have been well over 1000 pounds if she were normal size, the shrunken down woman weighed just as much as the cursed red balls.

            “Marsha!” Tonya cried out, moments before their fattened-up figures were bounced into one another. “Are you okay?”

            “FUCK NO!” Marsha cried out as she and her cohort were tightly squeezed together.

            Approaching the last bit of clothing, the clown woman reached down to procure Dione. Like the other two, she had been reduced to little more than a head with her curly hair attached to a bloated flesh sphere. Unlike her companions, the look of fear wasn’t present on her puffed up face. Instead, there was a strange look of intrigue that shuddered with each touch of the clown woman’s fingers against her bare flesh.

            “Dione? What’s going on up there?” Tonya cried out but didn’t get a response.

            “Let us down now, you blue-nosed slut!” Marsha called out, flapping her hands against her sides. “Or else there will be hell to pay when my lawyers-“

            Marsha’s threat was silenced by the clown putting a finger to her lips and making a shoosh noise. Moments later, any other attempts at intimidation or pleading were silenced by the building roar of a crowd. Looking out into the seats, there still wasn’t a single person there. Regardless, the clown gave a dramatic bow as she prepared to give the non-existent spectators a performance.

            “You can’t scare me with your cheap audio tricks,” Marsha called out, seemingly forgetting that her pudgy form was within the clown woman’s grasp. “Once I figure out what kind of bullshit you’re doing to make us trip out like this, you are so-“

            Marsha’s fierce words devolved into a terrified scream as she was tossed up into the air. Though the moment lasted for less than a second, it fell like hours as she whirled around, slapping together her meaty breasts and buttocks in the process. As she came careening back down towards the ground, her impact was halted by falling into the same gloved hand that had tossed her. Though her heft prevented her from any serious harm, the roar of the crowd did more than enough mental damage as the clown shook her around by her bloated belly.

            The bratty blonde only had a few moments to seethe with anger before she was flung upwards again. As she reached the peak of her toss, her spinning form caught a glimpse of Tonya’s own terrified face across from her. Try as they might to spin towards one another to clutch their hands together, gravity had other plans as they were sent back down to the clown’s grasp.

           Once more juggled into the air, much to the joy of the unseen audience, Marsha and Tonya were left dazed by what sounded like a squeaky moan pierced through the cheers. As the bloated pair made their rapid descent, they spotted their other friend getting tossed between them. Landing back into the clown’s palms, they looked up to see Dione with a strange look of ecstasy on her chubby cheeks.

            Encouraged by the applause, the clown increased the speed of her juggling. Up, down, and all around the trio of shrunken women were tossed to entertainment of the unseen audience. As the performance went on, any tiny squeaks the mysterious woman’s victims could make began to be covered up, not only by the applause, but by her own laughter.

            Each toss and unsettling giggle from the clown sent ripples through the women’s bodies. Marsha was given the most attention of the three in an attempt to shut up her empty threats with the constant shaking of her pudgy belly. Tonya’s only way to keep herself steady in the moment of terror was to constantly keep glancing over to her fallen clothes; wishing someone could pick up her fallen camera and record how her breasts squished against one another with each throw. As for Dione, she had more than enough pleasure riding through the clapping of her fattened-up ass cheeks to realize that the cheering was starting to die down.

            One last throw had the trio bumping into the roof of the tent. Rather than bring them slamming straight down, the fabric sent them ricocheting throughout the tent. Their frantic movement created what looked like a worried expression on the clown’s face. Any real concern for the girls’ well-being was betrayed by the comical way their tormentor wildly ran around the ring in a seemingly random circle.

            Once the clown had managed to reach the center of the stage again, Marsha’s seemingly random bouncing re-directed back towards her tormentor. With an outstretched hand, the mystery woman managed to grab the blonde with the very tips of her fingers. With her eyes still focused on Marsha’s tiny, anger-filled face, the clown stuck out her butt at the perfect angle to stop Tonya’s descent. Despite the awkward pose, she managed to finish the trick by sticking out a foot to daintily catch Dione just before she hit the ground.

            “Alright, you had your fun,” Marsha called out, barely audible over the fading cheers. “Now return us back to normal, or else!”

            “Do you really think you should be antagonizing her like that?” Tonya asked, gritting her teeth was she was rolled back and forth by the frilly skirt.

            “I-I think she’s alright,” Dione spoke up as she was slipped off of the shoe and placed on the ground. “Maybe she’s a friendly clown? We’re probably just quick to jump to-“

            A blast of confetti burst out as the clown stomped down on Dione. When the shoe was lifted up, all that remained was random streamers. Again, the crowd cheered as the other women were left awestruck.

            “W-wait, hold on now,” Tonya pleaded as she was rolled onto the ground. The former bounciness she had been blessed with had been suddenly taken away to make her drop like a bowling ball. “Let’s talk about this. Marsha doesn’t really speak for all of us. She’s just a-“

            The clown brought her rear crashing down on Tonya to make her the next to go. In the moment, the clown was more than happy to play up an embarrassed expression to make it seen that the confetti that shot out was nothing more than flatulence. While the invisible crowd ate it up, Marsha could only watch in horror as the clown turned back to her to show off the wicked grin.

            With a giggle, the clown opened up her mouth wide. Held like an apple, Marsha was slowly brought towards the open maw. Try as she might to roll herself free, the giant fingers holding onto her wouldn’t let go. Feeling the hot breath of her tormentor on her pudgy form, a momentary idea to apologize for insulting the performer came up. Before her internal need to survive could properly convince her own ego that this was the smart idea, the clown’s teeth came down and the world became a mess of different colored confetti.

            “GAAAAAAAAHHHH!” Marsha screamed out, her cry of terror echoing out into the surrounding trees lit up by the rising sun.

            As Marsha’s shout petered off, she realized that she was outside of the circus tent. Furthermore, her body had regained its original height and had lost the immense amount of flab that had made her resemble a sphere. She was still naked, but for the moment, she let out a sigh of relief that she was in one piece.

            “Marsha?” Tonya called out, coming around the corner with her hands trying to cover up her private areas. “Are you okay?”

            “I’m fine,” the blonde replied, pulling herself up using the tent’s outside. “Have you seen Dione?”

            “I’m over here!”

            Shuffling around the corner, they found their curly-haired friend laying next to an open crate. The look on her face was one of pure bliss as she let her fingers tap against her flat stomach. Leaving Dione to deal with whatever thoughts were passing through their mind to retrieve their clothes from the box.

            “What the hell was all that?” Tonya asked as she put on her pants.

            “How the fuck should I know?” Marsha replied as she tugged her top back on. “For all I know, that clown bitch could have slipped us some drugs and made us have a bad trip.”

            “Wait, so none of that was real?” Dione asked, sheepishly slipping on her misplaced panties.

            “Of course not,” Marsha answered as she whipped her blonde hair into place. “Now come on, let’s get back to town. I’ll come up with a better plan to get back at that drug peddling-“

            “Um, Marsha?” Tonya spoke up, unable to take her eyes off of her phone. “You might want to look at this.”

            Crowding around the screen, the trio watched as a video of their “performance” began to play. Watching their small, fatty figures get tossed through the air, their bodies’ reacted with each bump and jiggle they were subjected to. If they looked closely, they could see their swollen-up faces reacting with either anger, fear, or what appeared to be ecstasy. However, what was plain to see was the ever-present, grinning face of the clown.