Date: Sat, 17 May 2008 22:53:05 +0100
From: Speed Back <speedback11@googlemail.com>
Subject: Daredevil Speedo Boys- Live On Stage part 11

Speedoboy711

(M/b), cons anal, cons bond)

(WARNING: This is obviously fiction...nothing like it has ever happened in
real life, nor should it, for very obvious reasons. Don't try anything like
this at home guys, or anywhere else! And leave those boys alone!
Speedoboy711 speedback11@googlemail.com
Please feel free write to me with any thoughts and suggestions or requests -
and thanks for all the very supportive feedback so far, I really appreciate
it guys! xxx)

After a short break, the house lights went down in the auditorium, and the
red velvet curtain was raised once again. The huge glass tank of water was
still there, cleaned to remove all traces of meat and blood. The shark and
the cage were nowhere to be seen.
Instead, a piece of equipment had been installed on the floor of the tank.
It looked rather like a boy-sized rack. Two men in full-body black rubber
diving suits, with oxygen tanks, were checking the equipment carefully, so
that the next ten year old boy's stunt could be executed as professional as
possible.
Eager to enjoy his moment in the limelight as soon as possible, an utterly
gorgeous slim blond-haired boy, wearing only the briefest pair of light blue
speedos, padded softly onto the stage in front of the tank. His sparking
light blue eyes matched his tiny squeeze-me speedo perfectly. The very sight
of such an attractive child had many members of the audience masturbating
openly in their seats. The boy giggled when he saw that some of the crowd
liked him already. Despite his angelic appearance, he was bold enough
to do a sexy little wiggle to show his appreciation, grinding his little
pelvis around suggestively, with his little hands clasped behind his head,
just like young Peter Rowan in the U2 photos. His hairless armpits looks
particularly lickable. He turned around, with his back to the audience, and
bent over neatly to touch his toes, as if he was taking part in a PE lesson
at school, showing that the speedo was pre-slit at the rear, to allow easy
anal penetration while he was still wearing it. The lasciviousness of the
act contrasted strongly with the boy's otherwise innocent, unspoilt air.
It was that strange mixture of purity and sexual awareness that one often
sees in ten year old boys, particularly the more adventurous, experimental
ones. Many of the spectators would have given anything to sodomise the
little prickteaser on the spot - a perfect ten year old boy, full of fizzing
energy and impish excitement, feeling sexy in his little sky blue speedos.
The child adored the freedom of being almost entirely naked, as he was able
to flex his hairless little torso easily, so that the boylovers watching
could drool lasciviously over him.
Then the boy remembered he was representing the Royal Navy, and he began to
focus on his act.
When he reached the middle of the stage, he addressed the audience in a well
spoken treble voice full of confidence:
"Hello everyone! My name's Peter, and I'm ten...well...ummm.. ten and a half
now!  I'm a naval cadet at the same college as Tom...he says thanks a lot
for all the cheering, by the way - he's really pleased you liked him!".
The little boy fingered his immature penis absent-mindedly through his
stretch-me speedos, and flicked his long blond fringe from his liquid
blue eyes with a tantalising little toss of his head, before he continued:
"What I'm going to try..."
But suddenly he was interrupted by a heckler in the audience, who stood up
and called out:
"Are you and little Tommy fuckbuddies? Do you two little guys fuck each
other?"
The polite little boy was somewhat taken aback at this unexpected enquiry.
He lost a little of his composure for just a second or two, and, rather
fetchingly, blushed a deep shade of crimson. He looked offstage, apparently
for direction, but received none. So he shrugged his bare little shoulders,
and got on manfully with the task of trying to deal with his heckler. He was
a brave little boy, full of the confidence of a well-loved, well-raised ten
year old, with a sense of invulnerability typical of boys of his age.
He thought for a few moments, and then answered courteously but somewhat
obliquely: "Ummmmm...well...we're not really supposed to do stuff to each
other sir, because we have to save ourselves for our masters...but since you
asked...um...I like Tom a lot and...well we do lots of things together sir!"
The heckler wasn't wholly satisfied with this answer, so he called out,
playfully: "Is that a yes or a no, kid?""
The youngster raised his eyes in a goofy, boyish manner to the ceiling,
laughed again, warming at last to the situation. The child shot back, rather
daringly, as he hopped excitedly from foot to foot:
"Well sir...umm...you're welcome to come to the boys'  dormitory any
night to find out for yourself! We all love having visitors, whenever we're
in port! It's not very private...but as long as you don't mind the other
boys watching, sir, you can do whatever you want!"
His open generosity, his eagerness to please, was typical of a boy of his
age. He'd obviously been treated so well by all the boylovers he'd met that
he was very keen to be as obliging as possible to any newcomers - even going
so far as to offer his little boycunt to all and sundry.
"I'll make sure I get all your details after the show kid...I'm gonna take
you up on that".
The child bowed gracefully to his heckler, who finally sat down, enchanted
by the youngster, and impressed with the way the ten year old had handled
himself. If he came up for auction at the aftershow party, the heckler
resolved to pay almost any price for a couple of hours in a boysex dungeon
with the lad, with no holds barred. The little boy naval cadets were famous
for being particularly resilient in bondage games, and were usually willing
and able to participate in very violent sex, even though they had yet to
reach their teens.
Meanwhile, barely aware of what his little hands were doing, the boy stroked
his already-erect cocklet through his tiny sky-blue speedos at the thought
of the terrible physical and sexual perils he was about to experience. Then
he got on with his rather solemn script, with an absolute seriousness that
only a young boy of ten could possibly muster:
"My master said I had to warn you that what I'm going to try is very, very
dangerous" The child couldn't leave his little cocklet alone as he spoke -
it was dagger hard now. "Please don't try it on your boys without proper
training. I've been building up to this since I was seven, and I know what
I'm doing and so does my master" - the boy pointed to one of the frogmen in
the tank, who seemed to be fitting a spare air supply towards the head of
the boy-sized underwater rack.
The ten year old's treble choirboy voice sounded curiously gentle as he
spoke...the little boy really did seem to want to reassure the audience, as
if he wanted to look after them. "I love my master and I'd do anything for
him. Some boys are lost in battle - some are never meant to grow old. That's
what my captain always says!"
Many of the spectators applauded his courage warmly, while others were
uneasy with the boy's sentiments - surely a such a sexually attractive
little blond boy of only ten shouldn't be put at risk in any way?
The charming creature scampered off eagerly behind the enormous tank of
water, and began to climb the endless flights of steps up to the ten-meter
diving platform high above.
When he finally reached the top, the stuntboy did a series of breathing
exercises, expanding his little lungs, raising his taut little ribcage up
and down. He adjusted his teasing sky blue speedos to make sure his buttocks
were shown off to full effect. Then he made a Y-position with his slender
little arms, his tiny toes gripping the edge of the high platform. He stood
there for some time, breathing very deeply. At one moment he wobbled
slightly, as he wiped either sweat or tears from his trusting blue eyes. His
cocklet still stood proudly to attention inside his brief body-hugging
abuse-me swimwear.
Suddenly, like a kingfisher, the ten year old powdermonkey plunged down into
the water, only just managing to miss the underwater rack on the floor of
the tank. Immediately, the two frogmen grabbed him and thrust the child
violently onto the metal rack. Deftly and swiftly, they secured the little
boy's tiny ankles, and his thin wrists, to the corners of the torture table,
with tight black rubber loops. They also clipped a noseclip onto the boy's
little button nose to stop water going up it, as this might have caused the
child some unnecessary discomfort. They also forced some transparent speedo
goggles onto the boy's blond head, so that he could see what was happening
to him underwater as clearly as possible.
Then, wasting now time as they had no wish to prolong the boy's
suffering, one of the frogmen began to turn the large metal wheel on the
left hand side of the rack, which tightened the device slowly. The boy's
body was pulled, but not yet pulled taut. The child nodded his head to his
torturer at frequent intervals, signalling that the the rack wasn't causing
him any pain yet. The frogmen breathed freely using oxygen tanks on their
backs, but they showed no sign of giving the young boy on the rack any air
whatsoever.
The boy had been underwater for less than a minute, and already the
underwater cameras showed the discomfort on his otherwise innocent,
untroubled young face, as he tried hard not to think about the air he
needed.
The boy's master took the oxygen tank which he'd fitted near the head of the
rack, and offered the mouthpiece tantalisingly to the imprisoned boy. Brave
little Peter shook his blond head defiantly, and his master stroked the
boy's cocklet a little through his silky thin speedos as a reward for his
bravery. The spectators watched in awe as the boy's little chest shuddered
and heaved, as he tried to extract every morsel of air from it.
Again, the boy's master offered him the mouthpiece leading to the
spare oxygen tank, but again, the defiant child refused it, even though
he was starting to writhe underwater by this stage, as already his tiny
lungs were running out of air.
The audience wondered whether they might see the ten year old boy stretched
on the rack, and perhaps even raped, while he was also being deprived of
air...it was a tantalising prospect, but it was difficult to see how the
child would last more than a couple of minutes that way. They found no
further clues in the programme notes, but they what did discover, in the
centrefold of the programme, was a full-sized pull-out special pin-up poster
of little Peter, suspended upside down, blindfolded and handcuffed,
submerged in a water torture chamber. Evidently, the little boy was
interested in underwater bondage and oxygen deprivation. The cameras trained
on the plucky young naval cadet flashed graphic images of every angle of the
speedo boy's exquisite suffering around the auditorium. His eyes were either
screwed up in agony or wide open in panic, and he was bucking and thrashing
wildly within his underwater constraints, as if trying to find a pocket of
air from somewhere in his body other than in his spent little lungs. The
boy's quest was of course fruitless, but it was great fun watching him
try.
Eventually, after nearly two minutes without oxygen, the boy's survival
instincts kicked in and he nodded his head to his master - but it was more a
gesture of defeat than a request for assistance.
The youngster took three huge lungfuls of oxygen from the tank, but looked
apprehensive as he did so.
And then the audience found out why....
Because the ten year old had taken exactly three lungfuls of air, the wheel
on the underwater rack was turned exactly three times by the frogman
controlling it. Realisation dawned on the audience at last - for every
breath the ten year old took, he would be stretched an extra notch on the
underwater rack. It was an enticing scenario, and the attention of every
member of the audience was now fully focused on the highly dangerous
stunt in full swing on stage.
The boy's body was now stretched uncomfortably, but not unbearably tight.
The child wasn't panicking yet, as he had replenished his oxygen supply a
little. But ten year old Peter knew that very soon, he'd have to make some
very difficult choices - did he want air to breath, or did he want his
smooth preteen body to be ripped apart on the underwater rack? What would go
first...would one of his little shoulders become dislocated, skewing his
delightful little shoulder blade at an obscene angle underwater? Would one
of his beautifully-shaped little legs be pulled from its socket? Or would
the child's spinal cord snap with a sickening sound underwater, paralysing
the little performer for life?
Many members of the audience were glad the act hadn't been undertaken by a
younger boy. It would have been cruel to ask a seven or eight year old to do
it. But by the age of ten, a daring boy was just about ready to try his
mettle by performing such an ordeal. Medical staff were waiting in the wings
to resuscitate him if necessary, and his master was good at mouth to mouth -
especially on young boys.
Another minute ticked agonisingly by before the boy's bound body started to
tremble again underwater. He thrashed around uselessly for a while like a
butterfly pinned by a collector. His eyes began to glaze over slightly, and
the preteen shook himself as best he could within his rubber underwater
constraints to try to stop himself passing out. Soon enough though, the
drowning boy had to admit defeat again, and nodded  desperately when his
master offered him the oxygen mouthpiece. This time, Peter took four
gigantic mouthfuls of air, and tried unsuccessfully, but pitifully, to hang
on to the mouthpiece as his master wrenched it away from him after the
fourth gulp. The boy's master had to do this because he knew that tightening
the wheel four times was already going to crucify the little boy, and a
fifth consecutive one might dislocate one of the preteen boy's limbs, or
even sever the child's spinal cord. It was a dangerous stunt, and so the
frogman at the wheel tightened the rack by four notches extremely slowly, to
give the soft young boy the best possible chance of acclimatising himself to
the pain little by little. This also gave the audience ample opportunity
to enjoy the boy's heart-rending suffering on the underwater rack. His face,
so innocent and untroubled before, was a picture of sheer preteen boy-agony.
A silent underwater scream that never stopped. His blond hair floated around
his head angelically in the water, but the face that it framed was one of a
ten year old naval cadet in real torment, and near the end of his tether.
Although some members of the audience were masturbating savagely at the
spectacle on stage, others were angrily calling for the boy to be released.
Guards armed with electric cattle prods stood ready at the front of the
stage, as always, and for the first time, an announcement over the theatre's
PA system reminded spectators that the stuntboys could stop the act at any
point, and that their masters would never let their pupils suffer permanent
injury or death. But the statement seemed hard to square with the symphony
of suffering offered in the torture tank onstage. This was surely child
abuse, rather than sport? The boy needed more air...six more gulps this
time! The child's master had to pull the boy's blond hair viciously to make
him let go of the mouthpiece this time. The disorientated boy even let some
of the air go straight away, wasting it, as he struggled unsuccessfully to
hold onto the mouthpiece. It was pure boy-torture underwater, in the eyes of
many members of the audience. And yet as soon as the boy's master stretched
down and caressed the boy's dagger hard cocklet in his tight little sky-blue
rack-me speedos, the child calmed down, and began to cooperate again.
The boy's master had no intention of racking him by six more notches, as to
do so might have been a little cruel to a boy so young, with a promising
career in the navy ahead of him. No one wanted the small blond kid to spend
the rest of his life in a wheelchair just for the sake of a horny-but-sick
moment on stage.
He gave the boy a throat-slitting signal which alarmed some of the
spectators, but the boy shook his head violently in response, and it became
clear that the man had merely been asking his boy if he wanted to terminate
his performance right away. The child was determined to continue.
But he couldn't take any more stretching - his small torso was so severely
racked by now that his little ribcage almost looked ready to pop right out
of his body. So instead, the man undid a flap in his rubber diving suit and
allowed his enormous erect penis to spring out, tapping the boy gently on
the cheek with his massive pulsating boy-raping organ. Then he showed the
boy six fingers, and pointed back at his raging mancock. The boy nodded
vigorously, and, for the first time, actually smiled underwater. A new phase
of the act was about to commence.
The two frogman released the boy, turned him over swiftly and
then re-secured him to the torture table face down. Then, to cries of horror
from the audience, the boy's master swam right over the boy, grabbing his
blond hair to give him something to hold onto, and then, in an act of
amazing sexual brutality against a ten year old boy, he THRUST  his
throbbing cock straight into the boy through his little pre-slit light blue
speedos, causing the child to SCREAM underwater as he felt his boycunt
penetrated so suddenly and so mercilessly.
That scream let out the last of the air in the boy's lungs. The man raped
the boy so fast, and so savagely, that many of the spectators expected to
see blood in the water. But the naval cadet had quite a flexible little
boycunt, and he'd been regularly sodomised by very large naval officers ever
since he's arrived at naval college at the age of seven. Everyone likes a
pretty little blond speedo boy to fuck, especially on board ship when you're
away for weeks at a time. And when you're home at naval college, it's fun to
play pirates with little boys like that, with an exquisite child like Peter
playing the part of the plucky cabin boy Jim Hawkins, and his master in the
role of Long John Silver, sodomising the child energetically with his wooden
pegleg. Such games build up a boy's stamina while he's seven, eight or nine,
and prepared him for performances like this one.
To his credit, the little boy was doing everything he could to help the man
to cum deep inside his luscious preteen body, thrusting his little anus
backwards and forwards against the man thrusting above him, even though his
lack of oxygen made every movement an agonising one.
With an animalistic series of vicious thrusts, the man was now clearly
ejaculating deep inside the spreadeagled and tightly bound boy, and then,
with semen still spilling into the water, before he'd even finished raping
the child properly, the man was at the cadet's side with the oxygen supply,
allowing the boy to breath long and deeply for as long as he needed to.
Again, the rules of the extraordinary underwater game began to dawn
slowly on the audience, and they breathed a collective sigh of relief. As
he'd taken six gulps of air, but could no longer be stretched for six
notches on the underwater rack, the boy was to be raped six times underwater
instead, and would only be allowed fresh oxygen the instant that each rape
had been completed. Thus what had looked like an uncaring act of sexual
brutality against a helpless little ten year old blond boy imprisoned
helplessly underwater had in fact been a desperate attempt to allow him to
breathe again as quickly as possible.
The other frogman in the pool, who'd been turning the wheel on the rack,
undid the rubber flap on the black rubber bodysuit between his legs next. He
was slimmer than the boy's master, and might only have been a teenager
himself...maybe sixteen or seventeen. The main point of choosing a younger
assistant soon became clear. The sexual energy of the second frogman was
extraordinary. He gripped the ten year old boy hard with his arm right under
the child's stomach. He held tightly onto the waistband of the preteen's
light blue speedos with his other hand, pulling the swimwear excruciatingly
tight between the little boy's legs. Thus positioned, the sixteen year
old sodomised the little daredevil harder and faster than any boyrape anyone
in the audience had seen before, jerking the child's body around like a
little rag doll.
The boy was allowed no air while he was raped, but the sexual assault was
very swift, and the child had filled every fibre of his lungs with air after
the first act of underwater buggery. Now, the little boy was actually
smiling as he felt big thick older male cocks inside him, penetrating him as
though they wanted to split him right open in the chlorine of the swimming
pool. Peter had, at last, actually stopped worrying by this point, and
started to enjoy the heady combination of vigorous sexual assault and oxygen
deprivation. Every little boy gets to like it, and to understand it, in the
end. Sex underwater, while you're being deprived of fresh air, is as
exciting as it gets, if you're looking for a huge erotic high. Sure it's
dangerous, but it's really fucking worth it, especially once you've reached
a suitable age, like ten or eleven - and as long as you're pretty. And let's
face it, most boys are at that age...they reach their peak at the age of ten
or eleven. Little fucking prickteasers, writhing about on the edge of the
swimming pool in their little fuck-me speedos, giggling and flexing their
perfect, hairless little bodies, tickling and slapping and touching each
other. Kicking and pinching and punching each other, nearly naked, giving
each other dead legs and dead arms and laughing at each other's
pain. Whooping and whipping each other's taut little buttocks with wet
towels in the locker rooms. Having crushes on each other. All boys go
through a homosexual phase at that age...that's why they start fucking each
other at sleepover or at camp. It's a shame they ever grow out of it. But
then I guess some of us never did.
Is that all we are, people who stopped growing when we were eleven or
twelve, our psycho-sexual development arrested in that moment, to remain,
mnetally but not physically, a preteen forever? They say that all male
geniuses are frozen at that age permanently, and that's what makes them so
creative throughout their whole life. To be an inquistive, experimental,
energetic boy forever...what would you and I not give?
Ten year old blond speedoboy Peter was now feeling supremely  energetic and
wildly experimental as he continued to submit is soft, fresh young boybody
to underwater rape without oxygen. The frogmen took it in turns to penetrate
the preteen, and all was going according to plan until the fifth successive
boyrape. The child  was getting tired after so much savage anal penetration,
and the long periods of oxygen deprivation were really beginning to tell.
His gorgeous blue eyes grew heavy, and he felt himself beginning to slip in
and out of consciousness. The boy could taste the chlorinated water right
inside his crumpled little lungs. The everything went a very deep, but very
beautiful, shade of blue all around the child. He began to feel as though he
was floating out of his small body, but still looking down on it as it was
speared and skewered by enormous cocks that were too large for his ten year
old boyhole. He gazed curiously at his own unconscious body, still supersexy
in those little boy-size sky blue speedos, and realised that he was having a
near-death experience. It wasn't unpleasant, and his master had told him
that it might happen. It was quite warm and comforting. All the pain had
stopped and he felt as though he was being enveloped in a huge warm towel by
his loving parents after a particularly harsh training session in the pool.
Then he saw the frogmen panic underwater, and watched a harness being hooked
around his small traumatised body. The boy saw himself hauled out of the
water incredibly fast, and deposited swiftly onto the front of the stage,
apparently lifeless, into the arms of paramedics. He watched as they pumped
his nearly-naked young body hard, face down, so that he spewed swimming pool
water out onto the stage. Looking down on the spectacle, he was amazed to
see how much he'd swallowed. Then, like a rocket, he felt himself shoot
right back down into his body, and all the pain, in his boyhole, his lungs,
his head, his wrists and ankles, suddenly hit him again as he came back to
life. It was the biggest high Peter had ever felt, and the first thing he
did to celebrate it was to reach down and give his little cock and balls a
reassuring squeeze through the sky blue fabric of his stuntboy speedos. It
felt utterly amazing to be back - a living, breathing, coughing, spluttering
ten year old boy, writhing around on a stage, resurrected in full view of
hundreds of spectators. Peter grinned from ear to ear, knowing that he had
touched death and beaten it. His little boycock was rock hard at the thought
of what he'd just done. It was the biggest mental, physical and sexual high
any of the little boy performers had experienced that night.
"Get me back into the tank!" he babbled enthusiastically. "Gotta finish my
fifth rape...and go for number six guys!"
Despite the chorus of protests, the grinning little boy got his way,
becuase, as always, the young daredevils called the shots. He didn't have
the strength to climb up to the high diving platform again, so he was
winched back into the tank in the harness, and dropped in to the water on
his command, after filling his lungs copiously with air for a couple of
minutes. His master started the fifth rape over, delighted to have a little
extra time with his boy underwater. The sixth and final rape fell to the
teenager, who got slightly carried away, wrapping his arms around the boy
and deliberately squeezing every last morsel of oxygen from the tiny boy's
chest as he walloped his cock in and out of the ten year old like a
hammerhead shark. Somehow, in all the action and excitement, Peter blacked
out again very suddenly...but it took his master several crucial seconds to
notice what had happened. Again, the boy was released and swiftly bound into
the harness. The child was whisked out of the water in a matter of seconds
and his floppy body came crashing down onto the stage in a pool of water too
hard, with an accidental thump. The paramedics sprng onto him again, like
mechanics in a formula one pit stop, pummelling and trying to resuscitate
the boy. They even forcibly masturbated his little cocklet to try to bring
him round, both manually and orally. It was a tough job, but someone had to
do it. He had a beautiful little cock, even when he was unconscious. It took
longer this time, but eventually, rather like a regenerated Time Lord in
"Doctor Who", the child roared back into life, heaving chlorinated water
desperately from his lungs. His master, the captain was beside him in a
flash, and lifted the boy gently, cradling him in his arms and kissing him
fully on his luscious little rosebud mouth. The vivid blue sparkle returned
to the boy's eyes like lightening, and he begged to do it again. Like many a
preteen gay speedo swimmer before him, he found that blacking out during
underwater sex and being repeatedly brought back to life  was an incredibly
addictive experience..it went beyoud sex, to touch on sex and death, playing
sexual snuff games in way that's irresistable to most little boys.
Young Tom trotted back onto the stage in a fresh pair of navy blue speedos,
and when Peter saw his ten year old boyfriend, he lept out of his master's
arms, without even asking permission to do so, so that he could roll around
on the floor of the stage with his fuckbuddy, like two eager young foxcubs
in a meadow. His master let it go just this once - his boy had sure earned
some downtime. After a few minutes, he scooped the two boys up with his
strong hands, tucked one of them under each arm, like two young puppies,
and took them offstage so they could have a little private time together.
The sight of the retreating captain, with each boy kicking his heels
frantically and showing off his writhing little boybutt to the audience,
inspired an enormous roar from the crowd.
When the next boy performer due up on stage heard the strength of the
applause, he wondered whether his act would even half match it. He quickly
resolved to make his performance more extreme that he'd ever attempted in
rehearsal. He was the penultimate boy to take the stage that night, and the
last of the three ten year old boys. It was the toughest possible act to
follow, but young Rob was ready.

(ends)

Thanks for reading! And for all the great support from so many people, cos
that's what keeps me writing! Any comments, however harsh, and anything else
(!), always welcome at my new address for feedback:
speedback11@googlemail.com

The speedo boys also perform in:
/nifty/gay/adult-youth/speedo-boys-daredevil-challenge/
and
/nifty/gay/adult-youth/boy-daredevils-in-speedos/
Enjoy!
Speedoboy711