It seemed ridiculous. I was a grown man. I had a successful job, plenty of friends, and a wonderful girlfriend. I was thinking about proposing.

And yet…the dreams were always there. Normal pleasant dreams interrupted by a brief flash of a face in a window, a form creeping around the corner. I was losing sleep, my work was suffering, and my girlfriend finally talked me into seeing someone.

And so, I awkwardly patted my legs on my knees as I sat down in a plush, overstuffed chair. I cleared my throat nervously as you sat down. I led with a joke as was my nervous habit, and your tinkling laugh answered me politely.

You were a consummate professional. You assured me that I had nothing to worry about, and that this was a safe place. Instead of saying that my dreams were silly and my fears were irrational, your soft words were comforting as you told me that phobias were not a weakness. That my overactive fear was a hurdle to jump over, not a barricade to the rest of my life.

I became more comfortable, and I started to tell you about the figure that had haunted my dreams since I was a teenager. A figure that looked a lot like me, but massive and hulking. His hair thick and curly, as red as his bulb-nose. The white makeup making his overly-large smile stand out.

I told you about the things he whispered to me. How he promised that if I let him out, he’d make my life soooo much fun. How he’d take everyone I knew and loved and make them have fun too.

I shared with you what happened when this figure crept into my wet dreams. As I became slightly breathless, unable to understand why I felt so excited, you looked up and had to remember if I had been quite so tall, quite so muscular when I had first come in.

There was a moment here, where you could have stopped me, and we both could have returned to our mundane lives. But you allowed me to continue telling you about how my sex dream evolved into me staring down into the face of my best friend’s younger sister. She was a girl that I had grown up with and known for more than fifteen years.

I told you about the tears dripping down her face as she struggled to stop me from continuing to fuck her little mouth. A giggle bubbled out of you at that point, shocking you. But as you looked at the wide smile on my face, a smile of your own started to mirror mine. And it was too late for both of us.

I told you how her pupils morphed into a flower shape, and her hair became pink. How her lips slowly spread into a wide smile around my cock. You giggled again as you tied your newly blue hair up in pigtails. As my cartoonishly-large hand wrapped around my full, hard cock through my pants, your pussy drooled below the cute little patch of blue hair, soaking the chair beneath you.

As I stared at you, eyes almost seeming to glow above my impossibly wide smile, I finished my story in a whisper. “What I’ve really been waiting for, sweetie, is my perfect clown princess. And *we* are gonna have sooo sooo much fun.”

I hope you were both terrified and aroused by my prompt. I’m looking for someone to enjoy some depraved clown-based erotic horror with me. I’m looking for reality-breaking hijinks. You want to make my cock bigger by blowing it up like a balloon? Here it is. You want me to make your pussy gush by putting a water hose in your mouth? Open wide. Let’s make this weird.

My kinks? I have many. My limits? I have few, but they include scat, snuff, and vore.

And if we have a good enough time, let’s clownify our friends and family too.

Let me know if this sounds like it would be sooo sooo much fun.