Date: Thu, 13 Dec 2007 02:35:19 +0000
From: Speedo boy <speedoboy711@googlemail.com>
Subject: Daredevil Speedo Boys Live On Stage - part 3

(M/b, cons anal, cons bond)

(This is, obviously, complete and utter fantasy. Please don't try this at
home or anywhere else...and leave those boys alone!)

After a short break to allow members of the audience to clean themselves
up a little, the theatre curtains parted again to reveal a new scene. Two
seven year old boys were standing on stage in small superhero outfits,
side by side, facing the audience with their legs spread apart and their
hands on their hips. Both children were grinning from ear to ear, very,
very boyishly. Their energetic eyes shone like silver in the spotlights.
One was dressed as Batman's boy companion Robin, the other in an
all-American stunt bike rider stars 'n' stripes costume, a bit like a
young Evel Knievel. Behind them was a fearsome array of machinery and
stunt equipment.
The boy dressed as Robin went first. He was a little taller than Bobby,
the previous performer, and he had straight brown hair and large,
friendly brown eyes. Like all the other members of the harem of little
boys, the child was so sexually attractive that many members of the
audience found themselves ejaculating spontaneously in their seats. To
see the small boy standing on stage was arousing enough...but to
anticipate seeing him in the hottest possible action was almost
unbearably exciting. Precum was leaking everywhere among the
spectators. The child stepped forward, playing slightly with his erect
little cocklet inside his green speedos. "Hi everyone!" he squeaked.
"Thanks for coming to watch us tonight! My name's Ethan and I'm seven
years old and I love Batman and Robin. Umm....tonight I'm gonna try to
escape from the boysex sawmill!" A murmur of approval ran through the
audience.
Young Ethan waved a friendly farewell to the other boy, who scampered to
the side of the stage to wait his turn. The small boy superhero then
began a tantalising juvenile striptease, unfastening his yellow silk
cape and letting it fall to the floor, then picking it up and jerking
it backwards and forwards suggestively between his little legs. The
child writhed delightedly at the sensual the feel of the silk garment
rubbing against the fabric of his swimwear. Then he threw the
cape towards his fellow performer at the side of the stage, who picked it
up and cuddled it like a comfort blanket, as if to remind the audience
just how young the two boy performers were.
Next, the costumed youngster took off his green gloves, finger by little
finger, slowly, just like a professional stripper. It was strange to see
a boy who looked so small and innocent undertaking such a performance,
but he'd obviously been well trained, and seemed to be rather enjoying
himself. He tossed them into the crowd, chirping teasingly "Whoever
catches them might get to fuck me at the aftershow party, OK guys?". The
audience cheered and whistled. Some shouted "Me! Me!", which made the boy
grin a little wider. He shook his head almost disbelievingly, his brown
fringe falling into his eyes.
Then he bent down and unstrapped his very fetching green elfin boots.
Casting them towards the audience, he made a similar offer: "If you catch
one of these, and bring it to the party afterwards, you get me for a
whole hour to do whatever you want, 'kay? Whatever you want, cos I'm a
rough, tough superboy!"
The audience cheered his confidence, but although he sounded bold, he
actually looked very, very young and vulnerable alone in the spotlight,
with the dark shapes of machinery glinting mysteriously behind him. He
kept on his little black leather superhero eye mask for the entire
performance, because his master had told him that it looked "kinda kinky
and fetishy", and that the audience would like him even more like that.
The child wasn't entirely sure what that meant by these new words, but it
all sounded sorta cool to him. In fact, the whole thing felt so cool, he
could hardly believe he was doing it.
A year earlier, when he was just six, he'd met a sympathetic gymnastics
teacher at his local club, who had trained him as a contortionist, so
that he could now work his little body into incredible, even unnatural
positions. The boy and the man had soon found that this extraordinary
flexibility made their burgeoning sexual relationship even more exciting,
and they hoped the audience might find it interesting to watch too.
The seven year old boy giggled and winked at the audience as he
unbuttoned and unlaced his Robin superhero T-shirt top. It was a tight
garment, and he struggled out of it manfully, looking a little red in the
face from the effort. He also messed up his hair in the process, so that
it looked a bit unruly and spiky. But he didn't care...he was on a roll
now, and his gym coach had told him that he looked even cuter with his
hair a bit ruffled. He looked a-hundred per cent BOY. He cast the
top into the audience, to whoops of approval from the crowd. Then he
looked in a goofy, puzzled way at his superhero tights which he wore, of
course, under his speedo. So he shrugged his little shoulders and ripped
the speedo off, so that he was standing on stage wearing only a pair of
white ballet tights. The fans of ballet boys caught their breath. The
boy then laid down on the stage on his back, and began to tug the little
tights off as best he could. It was an awkward garment, but he managed
it pretty fast because he was used to having to strip quickly for sex.
The audience was delighted to see their first completely naked boy of the
evening, with a little dagger-hard erection protruding proudly above his
tiny balls, and a very spankable little boy bubblebut
wriggling vulnerably on the harsh wooden floor. Well, naked apart from
the mask, that is. The sight of a lovely naked seven year old boy in a
tiny black leather bondage eye mask was too much for some of the
audience. One or two members had to be restrained by security guards in
the auditorium from leaping up onto the stage to sodomise the child
thoroughly on the spot.
Sensing the hundreds of pairs of eyes in the auditorium mentally raping
him hard, the boy whipped his bright green speedo back on, snapping it
teasingly onto his hairless little torso with glee, to groans from some
of the audience - and cheers from the speedo fans. The audience noted
with some surprise that, again, the speedos were not pre-slit at the rear
to make fucking the boy easier - his athletic swimwear was fully
intact.
The barefoot boy padded carefully towards the back of the stage, slowing
down a little as he approached a large piece of cutting equipment...a
huge circular steel saw designed to cut logs. Either side of it was a
conveyor belt on which the logs were usually place. This time there would
be no logs on the conveyor belt that led to the six-foot wide
multi-toothed saw wheel. This time, a chained and
extraordinarily spreadeagled boy would be inching towards the hellish
blades. Ethan's companion called a few words of encouragement to him as
the boy laid himself willingly onto the conveyor belt, about twenty feet
away from the absolutely lethal saw-wheel. Ethan thanked him and told him
he was ready. The other boy, in the stars 'n' stripes stunt biker
costume, scampered towards his friend, who was lying face up with his
arms and legs dangling over the edge of the conveyor belt. His little
cocklet was still rock hard, and he stroked his own immature genitals
several times to give himself strength for the ordeal to come. The stunt
biker boy found the black leather bag that had been used during the
previous act, and carefully chose four sets of handcuffs from it. He
looked down at his friend, lying helpless on the coveyor belt, reached
out his little hand, and stroked the prone boy's tiny balls through his
wafer-thin speedo. Ethan shuddered with delight at the touch of his
friend, and then hissed something at him urgently, apparently telling him
to get on with the chaining up. The other boy clipped the cuffs carefully
around the boy's wrists and ankles, and attached them slowly and
deliberately to the sides of the conveyor belt. The sight of a seven year
old boy in bright green speedos chained to the conveyor belt of a sawmill
pleased many members of the audience a great deal.
"Can ya get out, Ethan?" the pint-sized bondage master asked the helpless
youngster. The seven year old twisted and strained to show that he could
not, immediately at least, escape from his bondage.
"Stretch me hard, OK?" requested the bound boy. His companion forced
Ethan's legs wide apart, so that he was doing the splits while lying
face-up on the conveyor belt.
"More" hissed little  Ethan, "so that I'm doing the splits
completely...otherwise the stunt's too dangerous, 'kay?"
The boy forced his companion's legs even further apart, causing the bound
boy to wince a little, but he was used to it. Eventually he managed to
force the preteen into what looked like a muscle-wrenching total split,
with both his legs at an awesome ninety degree angle to his body. The boy
then swiftly secured his companion with copious lengths of chain to
ensure that he stayed in the unprecedented position. The harshness of the
dark metal chains against the softness of the boy's milky white thighs
caused some members of the audience to shoot their load eagerly. He was
lying on the conveyor belt in such a way that, should he not escape in
time, that the first thing to be torn by the blade would be the part of
his speedo right between his legs. Then Ethan was satisfied. "OK!" he
piped in his treble choirboy voice "I'm ready! Start the sawmill!"
The other boy scampered over to a control panel and hit the start button.
The ferocious noise that the sawmill blade made was soon unbearable, a
sort of screaming, grating metallic sound, as it whirled faster and
faster, mercilessly shredding the very air around it with ruthless
efficiency. To prove the point, the stunt biker boy found a boy-size
black speedo in the black leather bag, and carefully fed it into the
whirling blades, ensuring that he snatched away his little fingers in
time. The garment was cut to ribbons in a matter of seconds. Scraps of
mutilated boyish swimwear floated to the ground.
A camera zoomed into the boy's crotch, to show the audience that a dotted
"please cut here" line ran right down the middle of the garment, between
his legs, to show exactly where the blade would cut if the child failed
to save himself in time.
The little boy began to sweat profusely as he wrestled with his chains
and cuffs. He'd been training in escapology for about a year, but he knew
that it was not an exact science, and a great deal of luck was involved.
Of course, he had an emergency escape plan up his sleeve if things went
wrong, but he didn't want to use it unless he had to, and he wanted to
take the stunt right up to the wire. He hoped  he could trust in others
to do what had been agreed beforehand to preserve his safety if
necessary. The rule was that no boy could actually be seriously injured
in any way during the show, and of course the organisers took every
possible precaution to ensure that that never happened.
Nonetheless the audience could hardly bear to watch as the boy's
vulnerable pink flesh inched ever nearer to the bone-cutting blade. Some
members of the audience were worried that there did not appear to be any
adults in the vicinity to intervene if the boy failed to break free
- only another seven year old child - amid all that highly dangerous
equipment. Agonisingly slowly, the boy's perfect, unspoilt body inched
closer towards a piece of machinery that could slice him in half in a
matter of seconds. The boy was breathing heavily and continuing to sweat
profusely as he contorted his hairless little boy into a variety of
extraordinary positions. The bones of his tiny rib cage protruded
vulnerably through his skinny flesh - there wasn't an ounce of fat on the
boy's little torso. To be honest there was very little muscle either. He
was just too young for this sort of thing. His body hadn't had time to
develop properly, to give him a chance to escape. He was expending an
awful lot of energy, but he didn't seem to be making any progress. He
tried again, flexing his little arms and legs as he'd been trained, but
still to no effect. For a few moments, panic took over and the boy began
to buck and thrash within his bonds. Then he began to cry, half from fear
and half from rage - why couldn't be break free? He'd done it OK in some
of the training sessions...this was supposed to be his big showcase, in
front of all these people...
His friend appeared and stroked the bound boy's cocklet to calm him a
little. He whispered something into the boy's ear which stopped him
convulsing. The boy's little face became a mask of grim determination as
he focused on one of his wrists. He appeared to be about ten feet from
violent death now, but after a great deal of panting, he managed at
last to work one of his slender wrists free. But then the conveyor belt
sped up a little, causing gasps and shouts from the audience.
Desperately, squeaking frantically under his breath, he wrestled his
other little wrist free too. But now he was apparently five feet from
being ripped apart, speedo first. He heaved himself up, but that made the
splits even more muscle-wrenching, and he had to flop down flat again,
gasping at the waves of pain flooding his little gymnast's body. The
screech of the sawmill shook him into action again, and he rose up
painfully and attacked the chains wound around his thin little legs,
ripping at them uselessly at first, before he finally found an end to
tackle. Eventually he managed to unwind them, but his feet were still
handcuffed separately to the conveyor belt. He appeared to be about five
feet from being sliced like boy-bacon. He reached over towards his left
ankle, oblivious now to the pain in his body, concentrating on on his
primal desire to succeed at all costs. Adrenaline thumped through his
whole body as he reached for his left ankle...and yet, in that position,
with his legs forced so widely apart so far from his body, he couldn't
reach it! One foot from the blade, and the conveyor belt slowed down
again. But the boy was crying now because he knew he had absolutely no
way of freeing his ankles before the metal blades began to whir into his
flesh. He was now in the hands of others, who seemed not to have
appeared. With six inches to go, he let out a long, loud high-pitched
scream of desperation and rage "Noooooooooooooo!" which rang round the
auditorium with a terrifying clarity. Members of the audience were
rushing towards the stage, trying to save the boy, only to be kept back
by security guards with electric cattle prods, which would serve another
purpose later in the show.
Then, in a blur, as the boy wonder had planned all along, a large man
dressed in navy blue speedos swooped down on to the stage. "Batman!"
breathed the boy. The man hit the stop button on the control panel,
halting the conveyor belt with only inches to spare. The screeching blade
slowed gradually, coming to a halt after some minutes. In the meantime,
Batman had untied Robin, and was hugging him. "Gee thanks Batman!"
squeaked the boy, grinning like a little Cheshire Cat, "I knew you'd get
here just in the nick of time!"
"Yes Robin!" boomed the man "But I must say you looked great doing the
splits like that. Mind if I try fucking you in that position? It'll be
hard for you, but it'll help with your flexibility in those gymnastics
competitions.."
"Gee, great idea Batman" giggled the boy. "Make be do the splits, then
split me with your mancock!"
Without further ado, Batman wheeled a bondage table forward from the back
of the stage, and laid the boy lovingly on top of it face down. He spread
the child's legs back slowly and carefully to their extraordinary
position of ninety-degree position to his torso, and held the boys ankles
in position with his huge hands, rather than binding them with chains or
ropes. Then the caped crusader tied the boy's hands tightly above his
head, with the child's arms pointing straight up so that the boy's body
formed a perfect T-shape. The young contortionist was no longer
uncomfortable now that he was in the hands of his gym coach, and he made
the strange position look relatively tolerable.
"Got the Bat-Speedo-Cutter on your utility belt, Batman?" asked the boy
eagerly, relishing what was about to come next.
"You bet Robin, and the Bat-Boyhole-Lube!"
The man and the boy gazed at each other for a moment, momentarily
oblivious to the audience and focusing on what they were just about to
do. They really loved this bit. Then Batman removed a small cutter from
his utility belt. With expert precision, he slit a hole along the dotted
line on the boy's speedos, where he knew the boy's anus awaited him
underneath. The boy gasped as he felt his swimwear cut open by the huge
adult. The child sighed when at last he felt the man's fingers carefully
lubricate his willing little boyhole. Then he nodded to his master to
signal that he was ready. The man slid his navy blue speedos down to his
thighs, revealing an athletic man's muscular butt to the audience. He
positioned his superhero-size cock skilfully against the child's anus,
and began to work his way inside. Despite the tender age of the boy, it
was not too difficult task as the little athlete had been fucked by his
tutor before, and as he was doing the splits so wide, his hole was
already stretched for penetration.
Then, to the audience's utter astonishment, as the man began to sodomise
the small gymnast, he began to force the youngster's legs even further
apart, in what looked like a totally unnatural, mind-bogglingly painful
position. He kept the child's body totally flat throughout the entire
process, and didn't allow his young pupil to bend his legs in any way.
The man slowly pushed the boy's legs even wider apart, so that the arc
that the young contortionist's limbs made became even bigger. Slowly,
although the child's body remained completely flat, and his legs
completely straight, his toes were actually beginning to come right
back towards his ears. The boy screamed and threw his head back
deliciously as he felt his boy-muscles stretched to a point that was
almost unbearable - but relief came when he felt his master's Batcock
thrusting urgently inside him. The sexual pleasure distracted him for a
moment as he enjoyed the sensation of being penetrated by the penis of a
very fit, fully grown man. He tried to push his little body down further
onto the man's cock, but it made the pain on his unnaturally
widely-parted legs even worse. His master knew this, so he began to ride
the small boy even harder, to try to give him more sexual relief,
pounding away at his boycunt. But, to gasps of disbelief from the
audience, he also continued to try to force the boy's thighs even wider
apart with his strong hands. Again, the child thrust his head back, and
then forward, cracking his little chin back down on the table in panic as
he watch his own little toes pushed in a perverse arc towards his ears.
His legs were now pulled round so far that they lay at an astonishing
forty-five degree angle to his head. His master had told him that they
would go further that night than ever before, but he'd also reminded him
time and time again that he had only to utter his safeword ("Batcave") to
stop the performance. The gym coach was reminding the boy again now,
muttering: "Safeword Ethan...remember your safeword!" But the seven year
old gritted his teeth and shot back "But I'm not Ethan sir, I'm
Robin...don't you remember? We agreed that you're Batman and I'm Robin in
this game sir!"  Clearly, the boy had no intention of using his safeword.
He was still on a roll, even now. His master's heart almost burst with
pride at his boy's daring and bravery.
Desperate to ejaculate into the boy as quickly as possible, so that he
could release him and stop contorting his little limbs, the man continued
to jackhammer into the preteen, pistoning his flexible little boyhole
with a demonic ferocity. The boy gave a full throated scream as he felt
the man's Batcum flood into his body. Then it began to drip out quickly
as the man quickly withdrew, even while he was still ejaculating. It was,
of necessity, the fastest, most desperate boyfuck that the audience would
witness all evening. He was anxious to push the boy's legs back into
their normal position as soon as possible...and as soon as he did so a
sense of indescribably relief flooded over the boy. The child asked for
the man's penis to enter him again, or to be allowed to suck it, so the
gym coach facefucked the seven year old a little as a reward for his
bravery. Although the child gagged and coughed, he seemed satisfied as he
swallowed what felt like a gallon of his master's cum. At last he was
sated.
As the audience roared their approval, the man untied the boy's wrists.
Knowing that the boy's leg muscles would be completely shot for a while
until he'd had some physiotherapy, he lifted the child onto his shoulders
to carry him offstage. The excited boy, his body still racing with mancum
and adrenaline, posed shamelessly on the man's shoulders, grinning
unabashed, and flexing his non-existent muscles like a miniature he-man
wannabe. He managed to reach down to high-five his seven year old stunt
biker friend, who was now trotting back on stage to perform an act which
would live in the memory of those who saw it forever - and would totally
change their view of biker gangs...

(More to come soon if anyone is interested!. Any comments, suggestions,
requests and ummmm(especially) any pics! to:

speedoboy711@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!)