Speedoboy 711

Speedo Boy's Daredevil Challenge

[1]

"Thanks Mum."

Rob eyed the envelope curiously. Like most twelve year old boys, he hardly ever got any letters, except maybe when it was Christmas or his birthday. Never now, at the very start of the summer holidays, when he'd only just got home from boarding school. Just a white envelope with his name and address neatly printed on the front. No return address on the back. It felt as through there was just a thin piece of card inside.

He raced upstairs in a boyish blur, locked his bedroom door and jumped onto his little bed and tore open the envelope.

Then he caught his breath sharply as he caught sight of the logo printed on the card. It depicted a young boy in speedos holding a trident. The little imp was grinning, and horns protruded from his head.

"Crikey 3;" the boy whispered, as his little heart started hammering beneath his rib cage.

In ornate handwriting, the card said:

"Lord Wolf requests the pleasure of your company for a testing night that you will never, ever forget".

He turned the card over. On the back was written:

"Dress code: strictly black speedos only".

And underneath that "Only brave, wicked boys need apply - your personal welfare and safety are by no means guaranteed."

The twelve year old boy felt butterflies fluttering in his stomach. His tummy started to turn somersaults. His slim body tingled and fizzed with boyish energy. And he found that he was shaking a little too. He began to re-live memories of his extraordinary summer spent at Poseidon Manor two summers before, as a daring ten year old. (NOTE TO READER: as told in Boy Daredevils in Speedos , available in this archive.)

It had been a nightmare, but it was still his favourite nightmare. The risks he had taken. The pain he had suffered. The abuse. The cruelty that had been inflicted on him at such a young age. Perverse cruelty. But also the thrills. The excitement. The joy of being stretched to his limits in his speedos, and then pushed way beyond 3; his pride in knowing that it had all been carefully filmed, every inch of his suffering, so that his dangerous exploits could bring pleasure to men with unusual tastes. The kind of guys who get off on watching pretty and energetic little boys in speedos swimming, diving, wrestling, boxing, doing dangerous stunts, getting hurt sometimes, winning sometimes, and getting introduced to scarey things which no little boy should experience, like real bondage and torture, conducted by adults who took no account of the tender age of their child victim.

But young Rob also remembered the strong friendships he'd made with the other boys there 3; the way he's fallen in love with a nine year old blond boy called Paul, and the way Paul's older brother had shown him how to do things he'd never done before. The way he'd grown in confidence so that he felt he could do anything.

But he'd resolved never to go back. He'd done it once, and that was enough. He could never go back. His sensible, logical side told him it wasn't right. It was kind of unhealthy 3; even a bit sick and a bit weird. He needed to look after himself. He was wiser now. He was twelve 3; almost a teenager. And yet 3;

His boyish sense of adventure always seemed to win through. His slim little hand reached down past his silky yellow T-shirt and inside his black lycra cycling shorts and his little cock began to pulsate with excitement. And as he began to rub, a wicked grin spread over his face, and he knew where his destiny lay. Just for one night.

Only one thing worried him: black speedos. Rob knew from experience that that color meant only one thing to Lord Wolf - no safety limits. No limits at all. "Your personal welfare and safety are by no means guaranteed." Black can mean 3; ummm 3; black can actually mean 3; 3; no, better not to even think it. It couldn't possibly go that far in real life. But it was quite exciting thinking about it 3;

He tore off his T-shirt and his black and yellow football socks 3; he spreadeagled himself face down on his Batman and Robin duvet, utterly naked apart from the clinging black lycra undergarment 3; it was almost as sexy as masturbating in his speedos.

It didn't take Rob long to climax 3; when you're twelve you need to jerk off all the time 3; but this time it was a savage, wanton, rough, abusive little orgasm as he pumped his boyfresh juice into the beloved black fabric of his tight little cycling shorts.

His boyish fringe of brown hair whipped into his big brown eyes as he tossed his head around wildly, like a little pony struggling desperately in a tiny, cruel leather harness. He murmured "Wolf 3;" hopelessly as he smeared his small ejaculation hastily over his hairless tummy, and then up over his heaving chest towards his boyish little nipples, and then he knew he was lost. "I'm coming" he murmured "I'm coming 3; and I'm yours 3; dead or live!"

[2]

His small hands wandered down towards his swimwear, and he gave his little balls a reassuring squeeze. Then he pulled down his speedo slightly and checked for any signs of pubic hair. He'd grown a few tiny tufts, but his swimming coach at boarding school had shaved them all off thoroughly, explaining that it was part of the swim team's regulations. Rob had enjoyed being shaved, spreadeagled naked on the coach's black leather physiotherapy bench. Coach had told him it didn't matter that his little penis had become erect as soon as he'd stripped 3; it happened to all the boys that came to his office to remain hairless and beautiful.

Finally, the preteen boy came to a massive set of double wooden door studded with metal and spikes. He shivered, carressing the spikes for a few moments, and then he made a little fist, reached up and knocked. After a few seconds, the brave young swimmer heard a mechanical swiveling sound above him, and when he looked up he could see a CCTV camera. Then, from deep inside the chamber, a voice boomed "Enter!"

The boy froze, then touched his cocklet feverishly for strength and courage, and managed to heave one of the huge double doors open. The barefoot child padded softly into the chamber, and the portal swung shut behind him.

The sight that met his eyes made him gasp in terror, and he had to make a monumental effort not to run from the enormous room immediately. Instead he shut his eyes and sank to his knees, bowed his head, put his little hands behind his back and said in a small voice "Your boyslave awaits your every pleasure, oh lord and master!"

And then, the boy promptly fainted away in terror onto the grey flagstones.

When he awoke, the twelve-year-old found he was tied face upwards on an enormous double bed, spreadeagled with his ankles and wrists secured with white ropes to each of the enormous bedposts. The boy squirmed delightedly in anticipation, panting lightly with fear.

Lord Wolf stood beside the bed, towering above the helpless child. The aristocrat was licking his lips as looked down on his prey. The unusually hairy man was dressed only in purple speedos, showing off his enormous muscular body to full and terrifying effect.

"So, boy 3; we meet again!"

"Th-thank you for inviting me sir 3;"

The gargantuan man punched the boy savagely in the balls, burying a huge fist into the front of Rob's little black speedos, causing the youngster to squeal in pain and surprise. The boy looked up at his master with a mixture of fear, anger and incomprehension.

"Speak only when I specifically tell you to, boy! That is the first rule of being a good slave 3; above all you must not interrupt."

Rob nodded warily, and then his face broke into an endearingly goofy boyish smile as he began to enjoy the game. With a devilish twinkle in his eye, the boy shot back "Anything you say sir!"

Lord Wolf was about to twist the boy's balls off when he realised that the little imp was deliberately trying to provoke him, so he resolved not to allow the young rascal to take control.

He simply wandered away from the bed and let the little schoolboy take in his surroundings, calling over his shoulder "Look around, slave 3; any of this could be your fate tonight, if you choose 3;"

Rob raised his head as far as he could and let his eyes wander around the huge chamber. The owner of Poseidon Manor had decorated his enormous bedroom with the most terrifying collection of waxworks imaginable. They were all figures of young boys, in various stages of agony or violent debauchery. The figures were either naked or wearing scanty, silky speedos, and they all looked frighteningly realistic.

The first thing Rob saw was the back of the object that had caused him to faint when he'd first entered the chamber.

It was the back of a boy-sized coffin, standing upright, just the right size for a twelve year old who's pretty tall for his age.

The staring, glassy-eyed waxwork figure of the boy inside the upright coffin was a dead ringer for Rob 3; he'd found that he was looking at himself, in the same black speedos, boycock teasingly erect, thin arms crossed over his chest, staring unblinkingly ahead. The coffin was lined with sensual black speedo silk. Just before Rob had fainted, the waxwork figure had fallen forward and smashed into thousands of pieces before him.

The spreadeagled, helpless boy eyed the other figures one by one 3; what he saw thrilled and frightened him 3; he desperately wanted to masturbate at the sight of the joys and terrors depicted so graphically. He envied the figure of the ten-year-old boy in red speedos tied to the flogging frame, with his slender wrists secured tightly above him, causing his bony boy-ribcage to protrude against the whipping post. The boy's little back was a sadistic symphony of bloody scars where the whipmaster had used a barbed bullwhip to rip the boy's lithe body open. The child's head was flung back in pain as the lash thrashed him with a force that would surely soon render him unconscious. Twelve year old Rob's heart pounded saveagely inside him as he knew that he would request that his own little back be cut to ribbons in the same way, before the night was out.

Another waxwork boy, of about eleven, in royal blue speedos hung upside down in a water torture tank, his arms and legs handcuffed, and a steady stream of bubbles coming out of his helpless young mouth. His blond hair waved softly in the water, and his expression was one of panic, as though he was feeling his little lungs turning in on themselves in a desperate attempt to find some unused pocket of air, which was no longer inside his little body.

Another waxwork boy of about Rob's age, in purple speedos, hung from the ceiling on an inverted cross. The child's pretty face was screwed up in an expression of agony, as his wax boyblood flowed freely from the nails piercing his little hands and slender feet. But the largest, cruellest nails had been hammered right thru his gorgeous speedos, piercing the boy's young balls and boycock, causing a terrifying surge of blood to flood from the child's swimwear. As it was made of wax, the red blood froze in midair 3; the figure was destined for an eternity of pergatory.

Young Rob had always had a masochistic streak in him, but the sight of the cruelly crucified boy frightened him more that anything else he had seen in the chamber. He called out unthinkingly for his parents, as if he was suddenly only five years old again, only to find the pitiless Lord Wolf, a creature of nigthmares, looming above him, gazing lasciviously over the boy's trembling body.

"Now answer me boy 3; are you experienced in the ways of the flesh?"

"Y-yes sir!"

"Have you taken a man's cock in your rosebud boymouth at that boarding school of yours since you arrived there last year?"

"Yes sir 3; er 3; many times sir!"

"And has your little boyhole been penetrated boy?"

"I'm afraid so 3; many times sir!"

"You're a slut, boy! You're a twelve-year-old boyslave and a boyslut, what are you?"

The twelve year old regained his sense of excitement as he was forced to say the words: "I'm a twelve-year-old boyslave and a boyslut sir!"

Lord Wolf looked into the boy's eyes, and saw them shining wildly. Never had he found a child so in love with pain, and with such an obvious desire for extreme danger. He would have to be careful with the boy, as he had no wish to cause him any permanent harm. Rob needed mastering, and he needed discipline, to protect him from himself.

The aristocrat began to finger the seams of the black speedos that tightly encased the helpless twelve-year-old boy's cock and balls. As the youngster moaned with pleasure, his master reached inside an began to stroke the child's fresh genitals, marvelling at the growth in the budding swimmer's erect cock, compared to when he'd last observed it two years ago, when the boy had been ten. ((NOTE TO READER: as recounted in Boy Daredevils in Speedos , available in this archive) Lord Wolf hadn't penetrated the boy then, judging him too young to bear it, but now 3; the unusual boy was ripe for anything 3; anything 3;

The aristocrat took out a large knife and ran in over the boy's chest, down past his smooth swimmerboy's stomach, and over the child's speedos, causing Rob's to writhe around so that he could feel the blade deeper in the black fabric of his aquatic sportswear 3; but Wolf wasn't ready to draw bood just yet 3; instead, he slipped the knife inside his own regal purple speedos, and slit his own garment in two, so that it fell to the flagstones.

Rob gasped in awe and fear at what his saw 3; Lord Wolf's erect penis was well over a fourteen inches [35 cm] long, and more than four inches [10 cm] thick! The lewd man bellowed with laughter as he teased Rob's white slender body with his manprick, tickling the soles of the boy's feet with his leaking monstrosity, slapping his enormous manhood onto the boy's stomach. He even tried to insert his wolfcock into the boy's ear, causing the child to shriek with delight as he was tickled mercilessly by his master's swollen member.

Then Lord Wolf heaved his huge hairy body up onto the bed and straddled the child, slapping his enormous organ onto the boy's cute little face, using it to stroke the boy's hairless cheeks like a loving parent. "You know what to do boy 3;"

Rob nodded obediently, and opened his pure treble choirboy mouth obediently.

He'd expected his master to take his time, like the older boys and masters at his school, but Lord Wolf was aflame, and he startled the child by ramming his obsenely swollen penis savagely into his inviting little mouth, ordering the twelve-year-old to lick and suck as though his life depended on it.

Rob immediately felt sick and began to gag 3; he looked up in panic at his master, who glared furiously back at him as he uncoiled more and more of his mansize cobra cock and fed it right into the child's mouth so that it felt to Rob as though the tip of his master's penis was tickling the very insides of his little lungs.

Woldf had another surprise for the frightened boy, as he reached over to a table by the torture bed, and picked up a swimmer's noseclip.

He showed it to the helpless boy, who shook his head a little as he saw what was about to happen.

The sadistic man laughed as he inserted the swimmer's noseclip securely onto the boy's cute little button nose, cutting off his last supply of air. The boy's whole body thrashed around desperately as he tried in vain to breath, but still the pitiless man rammed his gigantic cock deeper and deeper down the boy's throat.

Rob began to panic, as he feared that his master was using his massive cock to suffocate him 3; but the lack of oxygen also gave the twelve year old boy a sexual high more intense than he'd ever experienced at school. He felt his own little prick becoming so full of boyblood that he desperately wanted to touch it 3; and he wanted fervently to feel his speedoboy bubblebutt being penetrated savagely by a satyr with cloven hooves.

But this was only the start of the night's proceedings and the man had no wish to do any serious damage to his beloved boyslave 3; and anyway the aristocrat was so overexcited that he couldn't hold on any longer. He'd never been as aroused before 3; the child was a gift from God 3; or a gift from Satan 3;

Lord Wolf let out an enormous howl as he pumped his wolfjuice deep down the boy's throat, so that the suffocating youngster felt as though his whole body had been filled with Wolf's vicious semen. Even after the man had withdrawn his cock, the spunk kept pouring out of him, gushing over the child's hair, over his quivering little stomach and right over the boy's little black speedos. Wolf massaged his sperm thoroughly into the preteen's tight swimwear, and began to reach under the boy's fuck-me garment, lubricating the child's anus, noticing with some satisfaction that the boy was not too tight. Lord Wolf had never successfully fisted a boy as young as twelve, but he decided that it might be possible later that evening, if the boy agreed to attempt such an dangerous stunt. He would break the news to his slave gently, explain the risks and the suffering involved, and let the schoolboy decide whether his young body was ready for such a deep trauma.

Wolf ripped the nosepiece off the young swimmer and gazed down lovingly at him. Newly revived as air rushed back into every part of his brave little body, Rob gazed back at him with a sparkle of pure boylove. Boy and man glowed together in a deep pagan spirit of celebration. The man boomed: "Thank your master, boy!"

Rob thought about what to say 3; something that would really please his master 3; eventually, after a great deal of swallowing to clear his little throat, he piped up: "Crikey! Thank you for coating me in your precious semen sir, inside my body, and outside too 3; Ummm 3; I am truly baptised as your boyslave now sir!"

Rob looked up at his master for approval, and Lord Wolf ruffled the boy's sticky semen-encrusted hair fondly 3;

"And what would my slave like to do now?"

"Err 3; gosh 3; .something that 3; something that no other twelve year old boy has ever done please sir!"

Wolf licked his lips again, gazing around the chamber at the waxworks for inspiration. He went to the table by the torture-sex bed and thumbed thru his well-read Marquis de Sade 3; he soon found the section about the fate of the harem of little boys in the "120 Days of Sodom" 3; he read allowed to the spreadeagled preteen: "A secured-tied boy has his little anus spread and smeared with maresfuck 3; the child is then surrendered to an excited stallion 3; the libertine watches their struggles as the boy is penetrated and split by the vast beast 3;"

Rob understood what he had to say next, and so he begged with an unbridled, boyish enthusiasm: "Sir, will you honour me in the same way 3; will you split my 3; er 3; my 3; um 3; golly 3; my boy 3; cunt 3; my boycunt with your man cock please?"

The man-stallion considered the request carefully, gazing down at the overexcited little boy.

He decided to keep him hanging on 3; to raise him to feverpitch, so he said: "Perhaps later, boyslave, as I have a number of other interesting experiences for you before that sacred moment arrives 3;"

[3]

"Take you speedos off, Rob" he said kindly, and the boy obeyed eagerly. Both of them were naked now.

As soon as Rob felt the warm shower water hit his taut little buttocks, he began to relax and revive. He felt Wolf's huge, firm hand soaping his little shoulders, his boyback, and then his little bubblebutt. Wolf reached around him to wash the boy's front, drawing the child's clean body against his huge, hairy frame as he did so. Rob could feel his master's gigantic erect cock slapping against his buttocks, but his master made no attempt to penetrate him while he was engaged in the solemn task of washing his beloved boy. The twelve year old felt Wolf's enormous paws cleansing his little boy's cock and balls, fingering them lovingly as he did so.

"Still not hair down there, Rob?"

"I 3; um 3; I grew a little, sir, but my swimming coach at boarding school shaved it off 3; he said all the boyswimmers had to be smooth 3; club regulations!"

Wolf smiled wryly and asked "And how does he shave you, boy?"

"Um, we have to go to his office and lay down on his black leather physiotherapy bench 3; them he parts out legs and gets to work!"

"I see 3; and does he molest the boys while he works"

"Gosh 3; um 3; I'm not supposed to say anything sir, but 3; well yes I guess he does 3; but only the boys that want him to, sir!"

"And you wanted it, Rob?"

"Yes sir 3; I've always wanted it 3; I 3; I can remember wanting it since I was five years old!" The boy thought for a moment, and then said: "I had a brilliant time here in Poseidon Manor when I was ten, sir, with lots of torture games in speedos and whipping and stuff 3; but 3; well 3; why didn't you take me to your bedroom then sir 3; didn't you like me?" the twelve-year-old turned round and looked up anxiously into his masters face.

Lord Wolf smiled gently down at him, and he said: "Rob I loved you as soon as I saw you at cub scout camp that summer 3; and as soon as you put on those speedos and thrust your little balls forward for me to grab, I knew you were a very special little boy. Then everything you did here when you were ten convinced me that you were a unique specimen of boyhood 3; a boy who loves bondage, torture, speedos, other boys 3; and men too 3; but I didn't want to take advantage of you too young 3; a ten year old boy really is a child, with the emotions of a child 3; and also I'm afraid the size of my erect penis would have ruptured your ten-year-old body within seconds of penetration 3; But a twelve year old boy 3; well, he's a almost a young man, even if he still has all the beauty of a young boy 3; now you're old enough, I'm going to try things with you that you won't believe! It will get very rough sometimes too 3; but you can stop it with your safeword right away, at any time 3; well, more or less 3;".

Wolf got down on his knees and washed the boy's feet in a humble, biblical gesture. Rob took a risk and stroked his master's head with his gentle little hands. The gesture enraptured Wolf, who stood up and hugged the naked boy against his unclothed body, and kised the child's inviting little neck.

"You had a safeword, Rob 3; do you remember it?"

"Of course sir", replied the boy politely, "It's Bagheera."

"Bagheera, the black panther from "The Jungle Book" 3; that was a sweet safeword, but it's one for a ten year old boy like Mowgli, not a beautiful twelve year old like you, on the point of bursting into your teens 3; would you like to change it?"

Rob's clear little brow furrowed and he looked seriously at the floor of the shower for a while 3; then he smiled and looked straight into Wolf's eyes, beaming with delight.

"Sir, I'd like to change it to Ganymede please 3; I started learing Latin at school this year, and in one of the stories, there was a picture of a beautiful little boy called Ganymede 3; um 3; he became one of Zeus's lovers. Zeus saw him tending sheep, and he swooped down and took him away to Mount Olympus 3; I wanted to be Ganymede, though I guess he was probably better looking than me 3; so could I at least have him as my safeword?"

"It's a beautiful choice Rob, and it's just right for you. You will always be Ganymede, and it will be your safeword".

The man and the boy shook hands solemnly, with shower water still cascading steamily around them.

Wolf told Rob to shut his eyes so that the shampoo didn't sting. The boy's brown hair had become stiff and spikey when the semen had set hard in it, giving the twelve year old an intriguing punky kind of look. Wolf's strong fingers massaged the boy's scalp, then his slapped his boyslave's bottom playfully and said "OK speedoboy, you're done!"

Then Rob whooped for joy and lept out of the shower. His master wrapped him in an enormous white towel, and dried the boy vigorously all over, making the child giggle and squeak. Then the twelve-year old brushed his hair, gazing at himself solemnly in the mirror.

"Ready for the next game, Rob?"

"Ready sir!"

"White speedos? Blue speedos? Green speedos? Purple speedos? Red speedos? Black speedos?"

"Ummmm 3; which ones do I need for the most dangerous games, sir? "Red or black, boy"

"Well I've had black once already, and I'll have more black later sir, when things get really rough 3; could I have red now please?"

Wolf strode swiftly to a cupboard, and chose a fresh pair of red silky speedos just right for a twelve year old boy who's slim but slightly tall for his age. He tossed them to Rob, you caught them playfully, and snapped them swiftly onto his hairless body. Wolf watched enraptured as the child tied the white drawstring above his little genitals with great care, and as he ajusted the seams of his fuck-me boyspeedos expertly around his flawless buttocks and the tops of his milky white thighs, stretching the nylon material into place so that he looked neat and smart for his master.

"There's just one more thing, boy 3;"

"Yes sir?"

"I will try very, very hard to respect your safeword 3; but occasionally I may be unable to do so 3; I may judge that you're using it too soon, that you can take a bit more, that I want to stretch you a little beyond your limits 3; or 3; or it may simply be that I am so overwhelmed with feelings of sadsim and lust that I simply can't control myself, especially with a boy as beautiful as you 3; do you understand that there may be a risk that your safeword goes unrespected?"

The twelve year old boy's hand fell to the front of his speedos, and he began to stroke his erect little cocklet excitedly, saying "You mean you'd be kinda merciless and cruel, and rape me and abuse me 3; .crickey! WooooW! TThat would be awesome sir! That's what I've always dreamt of 3; being a total boyslave with no rights and a really cruel master!"

"I know boy, but I have to consider your safety 3; and I always will 3; for as much of our time together as I can 3; I want to train you to control your desires for extreme danger and sexual torture 3; but I am not perfect, and I myself may not always be able to control my darkest urges."

"Hey, don't worry sir 3; just use my safeword as 3; as 3; like a warning or something 3; so that you know you're going too far for me 3; but I won't always expect you to stop sir 3; I'll just say it to tell you that things are getting too scarey for me, OK?"

"Well 3; things are about to get very scarey indeed for you boy 3;"

And then the enormous man led skinny little boy back out into the torture chamber. Wolf's face had already lost any trace of kindness, and there was an evil, sadistic smile on his face 3; watching the boy tying the white drawstring of his speedos had given him a wicked idea.

Wolf removed the semen-encrusted sheet from the torture bed, to reveal a large matress encased entirely in shiny black leather. Little Rob gasped in excitement when he saw it.

"Now boy, spreadeagle yourself for me face up on the torture bed!"

The child jumped eagerly onto the bed and flipped his athletic little body over, throwing his slender arms and legs out so that he made the shape of an X. It was already such an arousing sight that Wolf was extremely tempted to turn the boy over and sodomise him straight away, but he knew that Rob would expect the game to be a little more elaborate. Using black leather cuffs attached to silver chains, he secured the panting twelve year old boy into position. Rob's little erection strained inside his rape-me speedos like a tiny tent pole at cub scout camp. The child's breathing showed that he was in a high state of sexual arousal, mixed with a healthy dose of fear. He was vividly aware that he was now powerless and vulnerable, locked in a dungeon with a sadistic, possibly murderous boylover who had already admitted to him that he might not be able to control himself during the session. Rob wickedly resolved to provoke Lord Wolf into losing control, to see what would happen. It would be amazing, he told himself, and the thought stiffened his boycock even harder.

Wolf tied a long piece of white cord, no thicker than the boy's speedo drawstring, to one of the bedposts at the boy's feet. Then he carefully lifted the silky red material of the boy's speedo, just at the top of his leg, and fed the cord under the swimwear. Rob gasped as he then felt his master reaching down the front of his speedos, and looping the white cord around his hairless little balls and his pulsating little cock. Then Wolf pulled the cord tight, sending shrieks of pain through the boy's immature genitals. The child bucked wildy on the bed, thrashing his head from side to side, but Wolf only pulled the cord tighter, and then tied it firmly to the bedpost by the boy's other little foot.

Wolf contemplated the delicious spectacle for a second, musing how easy it was to send a boy into the throes of agony. How weak their bodies were, even when they wanted to be brave 3; .how deliciously they squirmed and yelled, in their preteen years 3;

Then he decided the game would become a great deal more sadistic. He secured a barbed chain to the bedpost, and showed his boyslave what was going to be looped around his tender boy organs next 3; a cruel chain laced with barbs, little blades and needles. The twelve year old boy's eyes widened with fear and he felt the torturing metal wrapped aound his little sex organs. The he let out a full-thorated scraem of pure boyagony as his master pulled the chain tight, digging the barbs, blades and needles deep into his twelve-year-old genitals. His boybody arched upwards in agony on the black leather torture bed, and he began to yell "MY BALLS SIR! YOU'RE CUTTING INTO MY BALLS! AAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRGGGGG!"

"Safeword boy 3; use your safeword when it gets too much", breathed Wolf, struggling to remain calm.

No chance sir 3; this is AWESOME! Yeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaah! Coooooooooooooooool! More! C'mon sir! More! More! Break me!" he piped out in his little choirboyboy treble voice.

The boys eyes were rolling around wildly as Wolf secure the other end of the chain to the other bedpost. The twelve year old wriggled and thrashed around deliberately, to increase his own torment. Wolf stood at the end of the bed, masturbating a little as he watched a few drops of blood seep from Rob's speedos onto the black leather. Then he decided that he had to fuck him.He had to relieve the little boy before he deliberately tore his own cock and balls off.

Rather than releasing the boy and flipping him over onto his boytummy to penetrate him, Wolf realised that it would be more fun to keep the boy on his back, and slide in underneath him and sodomise the little rascal with them both facing upwards. The boy's body would then be raised by the man underneath him, and the white cord, already excruciating, would then become unbearably tight 3; and the savage chain would rip even deeper into the boy's immature sex organs. It would be a novel position in which to bugger the boy.

Rob couldn't work out what Wolf was doing at first, but as soon as he realised, he arched his brave little body upwards, to make it easier for his master to slide in underneath him.

Wolf preseed a button, and a huge mirror slid out onto the ceiling, so that the man and the boy could watch their tremendous session of torture, sex and bondage. All around then, cameras filmed the proceedings so that they could rewatch it later, and so that Wolf could distribute copies among other sadistic boylovers.

Although Rob was slightly tall for his twelve years, he was amazed at how small and vulnerable he looked in the gigantic overhead mirror as the enormous man struggled underneath him, slashing a hole into the back of the boy's little speedos as he moved into position face up underneath him.

Rob gasped as he felt the tip of his master's fourteen-inch [35 cm] erection searching like a huge cobra for his boyhole. His anus wasn't too tight as he'd been sodomised repeatedly every since he's arrived at boarding school a little less than a year ago, at the age of eleven. The little boy was now at a delightful stage of his sexual education at which he really, really enjoyed the sensation of being penetrated, and he gave his body willlingly to his master.

Wolf knew that his erect penis was much larger and fiercer than that of most men, so he took care to lubricate the boy with his huge fingers before he went any further. Again, he was surprised how easily his fingers went in, and again he wondered whether the boy would consent if he attempted to fistfuck the cheeky little monkey later on in the evening. He had never attempted such a proceedure on a preteen boy 3; the youngest boy he had successfully fisted had been an experimental fifteen-year-old.

"C'mon sir please don't keep me waiting, I need to feel you inside me right now!" panted the boy in a state of delirious overexcitement."Ramrod me sir! You've been good, and kept your big wolfpaws off me for two years 3; now it's time for you to take your revenge!" The boy had an innate sense of how to play with the man, to excite his master, to inspire him to perform ever more extreme sexual acts.

The boy wiggled and wriggled over the enormous man, trying to spear himself on his master's cock, but his bonds limited his movements, and he chain and cord around his little balls contuinually made him yelp and scream in pain.

Wolfed rubbed the boy's nipples hungrily, and then decided that the moment was right to nipple-clamp the twelve year old boy. He reached under the bed and groped around, eventually finding a green leather bag which he hauled up with difficulty. He chose the cruellest-looking couple of metal clamps, and waved them questioningly them in front of Rob's thoughtful, pretty little face. The boyslave nodded slightly, and his master took great pleasure in clamping the preteen's blameless little nipples with the savage devices. "AAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRGGGGGGGG!" the child screamed, tossing his boyhead back onto Wolf's collar bone in anguish. New waves of pain wracked the little swimmer's body, and he began to froth a little at the mouth. Rob could feel Wolf's gigantic mancock like a truncheon underneath him, and again he begged his master to sodomise him, and not to keep him in an agony of suspense any longer.

"Very well boy, but I am a very large man, and you must tell me if you need to to withdraw 3; I want you to walk out of here this evening unaided!"

And with that, the tip of his lubricated cock found the boy's welcoming anus, and he began to thrust his way inside the child. With every careful thrust, Wolf inched a little further inside the twelve year old boy's body, to the rapture of his slave, but also with every powerful thrust upwards, the cord and the barbed chain cut deeper into the most sensitive part of the boy's body, so that he suffered a symphony of extreme sexual pleasure coupled with extreme genital agony.

The boy gazed into the mirror fascinated as he watched his bird-like body flung up and down by the terrifically powerful cock underneath him. He couldn't believe that all his dreams were being realised at once by the man he loved most in the world. He was being buggeered senseless by the most sadistic man imaginable, and yet, even as the fourteen-inch [35 cm] cock began to rip his insides, he knew that everything he'd ever thought, said or done in all his twelve years of boyhood meant nothing compared to the indescribable sense of fulfillment of destiny that he was at last experiencing.

Wolf was ten inches [25 cm] inside the boy now, and he aware that the boy's anus was starting to bleed a little.

"Safeword Rob, safeword" he muttered desperately.

"Get right inside me sir!" cried the brave little boy "All of it 3; all fourteen inches [35 cm]."

A few delicious seconds later, Rob could finally feel the prickle of his master's thick pubic hair at the very entrance of his anus. Wolf's trucheon cock seemed to be pistoning him so deep that he half expected his master's penis to emerge right through his own little boymouth. The schoolboy thrust his bleeding little torso backwards and forwards to maximise the thrill of the most violent sexuual encounter he'd ever experienced, whooping savagely as he felt himsle speared mercilessly by his master's fantastic piledriver.

When the moment of climax came, and Wolf flooded the little athlete's body with his warm wolfcum, the child shuddered with pleasure and let out a cry so long and so heartfelt that his master knew the boy had finally been exorcised.

For a long while they lay together, the boy on top of the man, both gazing up glassy-eyed at the mirror as the aristocrat's sensational cock very gradually went limp inside the warm home of the boy's body. "Magnificent, Rob" whispered Wolf very softly, as he began to removed the nipple clamps from the little diver's chest.

The boy didn't speak, but just lay there grinning from ear to ear, as though he'd just unwrapped the very toy he'd hoped for on Christmas morning. Despite his wounds, there was something almost angelic in the glow which radiated from every pore of the boy's body.

"Rob 3; are you OK?"

The boy managed to nod slightly, not wishing the moment to go away, but he knew he would soon have to press on with other tasks that Woldf would have devised for him. He was nowhere near using his safewiord yet 3; in fact his experiences so far had made him all the more determined not to use it. He watched dreamily as Wolf cut the cord and the barbed chain, and unwound both of them carefully from the boy's pierced genitals. Then he released the boy's slender wrists and ankles from his leather cuffs, and carried the child to the medical room he'd prepared next to the dungeon. There he would patch him up as best he could, for the final session which he had planned for the boy.

This time, it would be stricly black speedos, and the boy would learn that he had to use his safeword, as he had to learn that there were limits which had to be observed, even among the most unusual boys and men.

[4]

"Yes sir, I understand sir!" replied the twelve year old boy enthusiastically, jumping off the black vinyl bed in the medical room, looking lean, lithe and gorgeous in his nakedness.

"You'll need to wear black speedos for this one, boy, because you may be risking your life 3; are you absolutely sure that still want to go thru with it?"

"Just gimme the speedos sir, and let's go!" the child was positively fizzing with energy, hopping around the room excitedly like a little imp. "Very well boy, you have made your choice! But remember 3; this time you WILL use your safeword. I must make you use it because one of the many purposes of tonight's session is to teach you how to look after yourself if I go too far. You must realise that everyone has limits, and that no matter what you make think, no boy really wants to die for their master 3;"

The boy glared back defiantly, but said nothing. He realised that as he listened to his master that Lord Wolf might be right 3; but then he shook his head as if to deny the thought. He resolved to prove his master wrong. His decision made his immature penis unbelievably hard, and his whole body pulsated feverishly. He had never felt more in control or more alive.

From a vast storecupboard full of speedos of all different colors, suitable for boys from any age between seven and twelve, Lord Wolf chose a silky pair of jet black death speedos for his boyslave. He walked towards the naked schoolboy facing him, admiring the child's graceful beauty. He stroked the boy's head, admiring his brown hair, his huge, trusting brown eyes, his little boy button nose, sensual red boylips, eager little pink tongue, his little nipples, already scarred from the clamps that the youngster had endured on the torture bed 3; his hairless torso, fit as a fiddle and bursting with boyish vitality. What a shame that it would have to be corrupted so violently 3; but the boy had to be taught a lesson.

"This time, with your permission, I intend to give you a fisting, boy!"

The twelve year old boy turned his head slowly up to his master in bewilderment.

" I beg your pardon sir, but what's a 3; what was it 3; a fasting? A firsting?"

The aristocrat smiled gently and made a huge fist before the boy's eyes, which widened deliciously in surprise and terror. Then, in explanation, the dungeon master began pistoning his burly, hairy arm up and down, keeping his enormous fist clenched tightly as he repeated the violent motion. He bent down to the pretty little schoolboy's ear and whispered, in his deep wolf-voice, "Imagine this fist inside you, raping you, with my arm inside you right up to my elbow, instead of my mancock!"

The boy jumped backwards, clearly startled. He had not even imagined that such an activity took place. He eyed his master's gigantic fist, almost the size of a football, and stuttered: "B 3; b 3; but w 3;wouldn't that kill me sir? I'm only twelve 3; and h 3;how 3; how would you even get your fist inside me sir? It's 3; it's just not possible 3; I'm just a boy!"

Lord Wolf sat the child down on the side of the bed and put his arm around his quivering shoulders. "You don't have to do it, Rob 3; it's just a thought 3; because you said you wanted to do something no other boy of your age has done 3; the youngest boy I've successfully managed to fistfuck was fifteen 3; and although I took every precaution to prepare him well for it, he had to have a great deal of surgery after the ordeal. But you're a tall boy for your age, and your boycunt 3; may I call it your boycunt? Thank you. Your sizzling little boycunt has obviously been penetrated by some very well endowed men a number of times already at boarding school, giving you a certain amount of extra 3; .flexibility shall we say? We could always attempt it, and I would of course withdraw if you found the experience unbearable 3; it will hurt, and it will certainly cause you to lose a great deal of blood, but your twelve year old body will be sexually stimulated to an extent you couldn't dream of 3; will you at least attempt this ordeal for your master, who loves you so dearly?"

The boy's little cock was dagger-hard, and his trusting eyes shone with all the magnificent energy of boyhood as he whispered back "I would die for you, sir!"

Wolf didn't appriove of the sentiment, but he couldn't resist picking up the child and embracing him. Rob was lost in the muscular, luxuriant hairiness of the enormous man, burying his head into his master's body like a little puppy.

"Rob 3; you won't die, I promise you that, but this will be a very, very rough ride for you 3; and it some ways, I hope this will be so rough that you will never need to seek excitement in this way again 3;"

Rob was slighltly puzzled by this last statement, and the boy was getting impatient by now for the games to restart, so he simply said:

"Sir, I'm just a kid and I don't know what you're going on about, but pleeeeease can you do stuff to me now sir 3; anything 3; anything 3; real rough stuff? Plllleeeeease?" Wolf grinned and knelt before the boy, holding the speedos open for the child to place his legs thru the holes. He let the speedo snap satisfyingly against the boy's preteen body, and the adjusted his slave's only garment so that the boy's hairless genitals were perfectly aligned inside the silky, sexy swimwear. Then, to Rob's surprise, he grabbed the boy hard by the balls, and dragged him back into the torture chamber by his genitals. The twelve year old screamed with shock, but his boyboner was still tenting inside his speedos like a tiny flagpole as he anticipated the next session of sex and torture that he was about to undergo.

The aristocrat placed his twelve year old boyslave the the centre of the torture chamber, making him kneel with his little hands clasped obediently behind his back. The child complied willingly and obediently, earning himself a chaste little kiss on his bowed head from his master. Gestures like this always thrilled the boy, as, amid the cruelty, his master kept showing him how much he loved him.

The boy was left alone there for quite a while, so that he began shuffling on the flagstones a little on his unprotected little knees. They were becoming slightly grazed on the sharp floor.

Wolf was nowhere to be seen, and the room seemed to have become darker. Rob shivered slightly 3; he felt a little scared, but it was a feeling he enjoyed as his twelve-year-old tummy turned somersaults. There was a strange atmosphere in the room 3; it was as though he could sense something evil was with him, watching him from the shadows. He loved the sense of danger in the air. It made his little penis even more erect as he stroked it very briefly, popping his little hand right down inside his tight black speedos for a moment.

Faintly, he heard a long, low chord played on what sounded like a church organ. But not in a Christian church. The low drone went on forever 3; he could feel it throbbing thru his little body, making him shake uncontrollably 3; and his sense of excitement gradually turned to fear. It was all too weird. Why was this strange, evil music here instead of his master?

A black fog descended in his boyish mind and he began to feel much younger than he really was 3; much more powerless than he really was 3; he felt as though he was less than two years old and they were coming to get him again because his master had left him 3; It was as though the notes were fingering him, groping him, trying to drag him underground in a coffin 3; and he had never felt so utterly alone.

Where was his master? Where was Lord Wolf? Why had he left him like this? They were supposed to be playing together 3; why was he alone? Why had Lord Wolf left him alone?

"Somebody, please 3; come!" yelled the boy, very afraid by now.

As if to mock his prayers, something evil moved him above him. On ropes and pulleys, something descended from the ceiling. It was a black wooden cross 3; just the right size for the crucifixion of a twelve year old boy who was slightly tall for his age. And the cross was upside down 3; inverted 3; ready for an unholy crucifixion.

The boy watched in sheer terror as the cross descended slowly before him 3; he saw with horror that there were nail holes around the places where his little hands and slender feet would go. He shuddered as he saw that exact place where his immature genitals would go was also full of large nail holes. He was so afraid that he could not move. It was as though he was in one of his boyish nightmares in which his legs became paralysed as some terrible monster came towards him. He even whispered to himself "Wake up! Wake up!" but he knew that he was really there, in the chamber, about to be engulfed.

He cried out "Sir! Lord Wolf sir!", but there was no one else in the room 3; then, from all around, the sound of hammering started, quietly at first, and then a little louder and heavier, until eventually enormous, amplified hammer blows burrowed their way deep into the twelve year old boy's brain. And there were screams too 3; it sounded as though little choirboys were wailing and pleading amid the hammering. Rob could take it no longer – Wolf was taking things too far and the boy was no longer enjoying the twisted game.

"Stop it sir! Stop it! I can't do it! Make it stop!"

But the sinister rumble of the organ continued, and the treble cries of the boys only got louder. He was on the point of using his safeword, but some demon in his boyish brain utterly forbade him to do so.

Rob fainted away in terror under the cross that he knew would soon be bearing his weight.

When he woke up, he couldn't work out at first where he was, or what he was doing there. The grim reality of his predicament soon dawned on him.

He was suspended in mid-air, with his little wrists and ankles bound securely, and unbearably tightly, to the inverted cross. The music and the screaming had stopped, but the pain of his bonds, and of hanging there, in such an unnatural position, wracked the swimmer's little body with indescribable torment.

As his young brown eyes began to focus dizzily on the room, he saw Lord Wolf was gazing up at him malevolently, with a hammer in one hand and a dozen very long, very sharp nails in the other.

The aristocrat held up two of the largest nails, and hissed "These two are for your balls, boy!" And then be produced an even larger nail "And this one will be hammered hard into your little cock!"

The boy felt the cross jolt violently and it was lowered to the flagstones. Wolf manhandled it so that it lay flat on the floor, with his preteen slave facing upwards.

The pressure on the child's wrists and ankles vanished now that he was no longer suspended in mid air, but he was still in a state of trepidation. "Sir!" the boy babbled, "Sir! You're supposed to be fasting 3; I mean firsting 3; I 3; I 3; I mean fisting me sir! You're not supposed to be doing all this! You're cheating sir! You're cheating!"

Despite his rather childish words, Lord Wolf could tell that the boy was genuinely upset. He hadn't realised that the inverted crucifix would terrify the boy so much. He wondered if he had touched a raw nerve by mistake. He knew a great deal about Rob's past, including the terrors which had been inflicted on the boy when he had been less that two years old. Then it hit Wolf straight away 3; what a fool he had been, and how irresponsible, when the child was in his care! It had been the abandonment 3; the boy couldn't stand being abandoned after what had happened to him at such a young age. He had made the boy feel alone and unprotected.

He nearly stopped the games there and then, as his heart bled for the poor boy who'd suffered every indignity before he could even walk and talk properly 3; but this session was Wolf's attempt to kill or cure the youngster, so he resolved to press on with it, as ending it now would resolve nothing 3;

Wolf stroked the boy's hair gently, and let his hand glide down the boy's body until he reached the youngster's little testicles. He tickled them a little and bent down to kiss the boy. Then he whispered "I'm afraid you'll have to humor me for a little longer Rob 3; every boy has his cross to bear 3; just be brave for me!"

The boy felt reassured by his master's words, but more than anything else he felt restored now that he could see and hear his master again, now that he knew that their separation had only been temporary. The brave little champion schoolboy speedo diver braced himself for the rigours that lay ahead.

As the man knelt over the twelve-year-old, Rob noticed with a peculiar mixture of terror and heightened sexual pleasure that he was carrying a boy-sized ballgag. He whipped the gag onto the boy before Rob had time to blurt out his safeword. Lord Wolf showed the boy the long nails again, and traced them down the child's flesh from his neck to his little tummy button. He used the points of the nails to probe the boy's speedos, jabbing them suggestively into the child's little balls. He was surprised to see that the boy's little cock was still dagger hard, despite his fear. "I see you're one of those little boys who find pain and death rather arousing 3;" murmured Wolf. "We'll have to do something to rectify that, won't we boy!"

Lord Wolf spread the boys' little hands out carefully, leaving wide gaps between the child's fingers.

Then he took the first nail and plunged it with terrifying speed into the gap between the little boy's index finger and his middle fingure, straight onto the black wood of the crucifix, missing the edge of the child's skin by a fraction of an inch. Then, with all the immense powere of his burly hairy muscular wolf-body, he hammered the nail savagely into the wood, howling like an animal as he did so. The strength of each and every blow jolted the boy's tied body terribly 3; the whole cross seemed to jump up and down with every strike, which resonated through the child's ribcage like the knocking of the grim reaper. But, as each of the boy's hands became surrounded by nails, not a single one actually pierced his flesh. Not one single hammer blow actually hit his body, as he felt the nails shooting down into the wood between his toes. The boy grinned broadly as he finally understood the game 3; he was being crucified without actually being crucified 3; The force of the hammer blows was awesome, the sound was terrifying, the jolt as his unprotected little skull banged back against the wood each time was painful enough 3; but the nails didn't actaully split a single little bone in the preteen boy's body 3;

"Wooooooooow! Coooooooool!" breathed the child as a sense of relief engulfed his body. His little cock, which had gradually become flaccid with terror, now stood proudly erect again. He even gasped in pleasure as one nail caught the bottom seam of his speedo by mistake, just below his delicate perineum, so that a little of the black material was hammered right into the black wooden cross, causing the rest of the tight little garment to become stretched even tighter over his pulsating preteen genitals. But no nails were hammered into his cock or balls.

Then he was hoisted up again, upside down, and the pain shot back into his wrists and ankles. His little ribcage heaved up and down frantically, as he struggled to cope with the agonising position. Lord Wold produced a spear and allowed himself the luxury of piercing the boy's chest slightly, so that some of his boyish blood trickled over his delightfully taught ribs. It was quite a spectacle, and Lord Wolf kept the boy in severe discomfort for some minutes, ensuring that he had enough film of the boy's passionate suffering before the next game began. Eventually, Lord Wolf swung the boy on the crucifix over a clear pool of water on the other side of the chamber. As he descended, he fixed a little black plastic clip onto the boys nose to avoid the discomfort of water going up his nose, and then he lowered the little aquatic athlete into the warm pool. He stood still for a time, marvelling at the way the water soon became clouded with the boy's blood from his little chest wound.

Wolf contemplated releasing the sharks but decided not to do so 3; it wouldn't be a fair contest, and the aristocrat prided himself on his sense of fair play, like all British gentlemen.

Wolf observed the boy struggling wildly underwater, as he hadn't had enough time to take in much air before his plunge. The sight of a boy in black speedos tied up and underwater and running out of breath was one of Wolf's very favourites, and he made sure the underwater cameras captured several minutes of the boy's panic and agony. Then the wolfish man dived into the water with a sharp knife clasped tightly between his glinting teeth. In a desperate underwater struggle, he cut the panic-stricken boy free and dragged him to the surface, so that the child could be resurrected. By the time he cut the last cord, the keen little swimmer was only semi-conscious, and he seemed to fade away as soon as he felt his master's strong, hairy arms around his little waist. The man had to use all his strength to manhandle the youngster out of the water 3; a twelve year old boy who's tall for his age can feel surprisingly heavy when he's offering no assistance to his master. But as soon as he had the boy's body stretched out face up on the poolside, he was able to revive him a little with some gentle mouth to mouth resuscitation, and a few sharp slaps.

Then, in a spontaneous gesture of generosity, Lord Wolf turned the semi-conscious boy over onto his tummy, yanked down his little speedos as far as his grazed little schoolboy knees, and swiftly fucked him on the poolside. Every deep thrust of the man's enormous cock sent more water spurting out of the boy's spluttering mouth. It was a desperate, animal, quick boyfuck, unplanned and unexpected. The aristocract adored such moment in the game, when he left the script and abandoned himself to such gratuitous wantoness and savagely.

As he fucked the twelve year old boy without mercy on the hard tiled poolside, Lord Wolf also reflected with some satisfaction that his extra act of sodomy would also serve to ensure that the boy's anus was already stretched and extended for his final ordeal, which was still to come. The boy seemed to enjoy the experience too 3; once he had woken up enough to talk. He cried out excitedly said to his master, as the final juddering spurt of redhot Wolf semen shot through his dripping wet boy body "You killed me and you saved me Sir! You killed me and you saved me!"

[5]

"Had enough, young man?" inquired Lord Wolf.

The boy lay there for a while, gazing contentedly up at his master, before he said "Gosh, that was BRILLIANT sir! I've never done ANYTHING as good as that before!

But you haven't done that thing with your fist yet, sir, have you!". The boy flipped himself over onto his back like a young otter, raised himself up on his elbows, and then hauled his little black speedos back up, adjusting them carefully so that he looked just like a little boy at his local swimming club taking a breather in a tough training session. "Are you sure, boy? You have to want to do it 3; don't just do it to please me 3;"

"You bet sir! I'm ready 3; I just need a drink to take this taste out of my mouth 3; I feel like I swallowed half the pool!"

"Of course Rob 3; what can I get for you?"

"Could I have some milk please sir 3; and 3; um 3; could you warm it up a little for me, please?" the boy looked up imploringly from under his dripping wet fringe of brown hair, his large, trusting brown eyes appealing to his master to look after him, to fortify him for the difficult task that lay ahead.

Suddenly, wet, shivering, exhausted and prone, he looked about ten years old again, just like the younger Rob, who had visited Posiedon Manor two years before. (NOTE TO READER: These earlier adventures are recounted in Boy Daredevils in Speedos , available in this archive).

Lord Wolf threw the boy a large purple swimming club towel with trident motifs, and strode away to order one of his unseen servants to prepare the beverage the boy had requested so politely. Rob wrapped himself up the the towel and sat on the floor, staring ahead blankly for a few minutes, contented, but grateful to do nothing for a few moments. When the dungeon master returned, he allowed the boy time to gulp down his drink greedily and gratefully. The boy wiped drips of milk from his full red, sensual lips and his little chin and grinned, his vigour restored. The enormous man lifted the the little swimmer up and towelled him down briskly, professionally, just like a swimming coach who has dried off the bodies of many little boys in speedos, after they have performed for him, and pleased him.

They he carried the boy back to the black leather torture bed and laid him down on his tummy. Rob's little cock hardened as he felt the black leather cuffs close around his slender wrists and ankles. He rubbed his little penis deep into the black leather bed in a brief attempt to masturbate, as he heard the rattle and clank of the chains attached to the cuffs being fixed firmly to the bedposts. This was his favourite position in the whole world. He was ready for anything 3; anything 3; He knew his master wouldn't allow him to attempt to masturbate for long, and sure enough he soon heard an enraged growl, and the sound of the aristocrat fumbling in one of the many cupboards in the torture chamber, evidently searching for some kind of instrument to chastise him. Then the boy heard a cruel noise, which made even more of his fresh boyblood pump even faster into his preteen cocklet. It was the crack of a huge leather whip on the flagstones of the dungeon.

He heard Wolf breathing heavily as the enormous man flexed his muscles, ready to give his twelve year old schoolboy a truly savage flogging. The little swimmer adored being whipped 3; even at the age of ten he had withstood the most extraordinary lashings.

Young Rob continue to grind his little cock defiantly into the leather couch which was his prison, only stopping when the first almighty blow cracked across his young shoulder blades, knocking all the air out of him and instantly drawing blood with its cruelly barbed strips of leather.

With a force of unjustified anger that frightened the little lad, his master began to tear his boyslave's beautifully formed back to ribbons. Thirty-nine times, the bullwhip found a fresh part of the boy's body to rip open. The wild man grunted between the blows, muttering words like "Disobedient little scoundrel!" and "Lascivious little boywhore!", which thrilled the boy, amid the violent onslaught of the whipping. As the brutal man worked his way down the youngster's body, Rob could feel his tight black speedos being ripped to shreds by the force of the blows. Soon the garment was in tatters around his bloody little body, and at this point Wolf stopped, leaning heavily against the bed, exhausted by his efforts to discipline the little scamp for daring to stimulate himself sexually without his master's permission. The boy could have ruined the whole elaborate game if he had climaxed at that point, and then used his safeword to bring the proceedings to a halt.

Rob lay there, luxuriating in the waves of pain that wracked his body 3; he loved being whipped so much that he did it to himself in private at boarding school 3; but having someone else doing it, and doing it extremely hard sothat it drew blood, was far, far sexier. Especially when it was a big savage man like Wolf, whose enormous cock he worshipped so fervently.

He felt his master rip the shredded, bloodstained blackspeedo from under him, chafing his little cock and balls with the friction of his abrupt action.

Then he had a request for his master:

"Sir! Could I have some more speedos please? Some clean ones? I always like to do stuff in my speedos, sir, not naked 3; is that possible sir, please?"

"No boy, that is NOT posible at this stage of the game!" came the curt reply.

"But sir 3; it's not decent 3; I shouldn't be naked in front of a grown man sir 3; it's not right 3; I'm only twelve! You're not my Daddy, are you sir!"

Wolf could recognise Rob's little tricks a mile off 3; the little rascal was as cunning as he was brave and sexy, like all really wicked little boys 3; and Wolf knew exactly how to match him.

"I have a surprise for you boy 3; no speedos 3; but 3; Mmmmmmmm 3; you can have the speedo logo if you like 3;"

The boy looked over his little shoulder at his master, puzzled by his statement.

"Logo?"

"The speedo logo, speedo boy 3; work it out 3;"

"Ummmmm 3;" the little boy's sweating forehead furrowed in bewilderment "You mean the kind of arrow logo on speedo swimming trunks, sir?"

Lord Wolf nodded, and wandered away slowly to another part of the dungeon, out of sight.

Rob mischiveously used the opportunity to grind his naked little penis into the black leather bed some more 3; he desperately needed to jerk off now. He was a little athlete aflame with burgeoning sadomasochistic lust, fresh as a daisy 3; but then he heard his master beginning to return, so he lay obediently still again.

When the boy he dared to look over his little shoulder again, he gasped at what he saw in his master's hand. He knew straight away what his master had in mind for him.

It was a white-hot branding iron.

The searing tip of the iron was no more than an inch [2½ cm] or so long, shaped into the familiar arrow shape of the speedo logo Rob had adored wearing since he was seven years old. Speedos were part of his religion, as a boy, a swimmer, a diver, a wrestler and a boyslave. The first time he had ever been molested, he had been wearing little red and white speedos, so they were full of precious memories for him.

The aristocrat knelt over the prone boy, and sank his strong fingers around the boy's slender waist, raising him up slightly with one hand. He calculated exactly where the speedo logo would have sat on the side of the naked boy's waist, had he been wearing any swimming trunks. Then, with a wolfish cry, he raised the branding iron to the ceiling of the dungeon. The boy squealed heartrendingly in anticipation of the pain he knew his master was about to inflict on him, and then the boy's whole field of vision turned suddenly and blindingly white, as the branding iron seared its way into his tender boyflesh, branding him a speedo boy forever 3;

The child's scream rang around Wolf's head forever afterwards like a nightmare. It would haunt Rob's dreams for the rest of his life too. It was not only the pain 3; its was the knowledge that he was now marked for as long as he lived with a deliberately inflicted burn in the shape of an speedo logo 3; a constant reminder of his status as a swimmer slaveboy. In the years to come, whenever either the boy or the man saw a preteen boy in speedos, flexing nonchalently by the pool or diving into a wave, they would think of the branding that had taken place that night. Speedo boy 3; a speedo boy forever 3;

The twelve year old's whole body was shaking uncontrollably from the shock of the pain, and his was foaming at the mouth, so his master found some balm, and applied the soothing ointment to the livid burnmark in the preteen boy's skin. Lord Wolf's potions and lotions had been carefully devised over many years, to enable young boys to bear the torments he liked to inflict on them , so that he could continue with his dark games for as long as possible before the boy brought the game to a halt. Every boy had a moment when he did that, and the aristocrat prayed silently that young Rob would know when that moment had come, rather than plunging blindly onwards to his destruction at such a young age, while he was still so full of beauty. Every boy had his breaking point 3;

Without further ado, the sadistic aristocrat began to lubricate the boy's anus, deeply and thoroughly. He easily inserted a finger as the boy obediently raised his bubblebutt upwards to make his master's task as easy as possible. Two fingers 3; no problem 3; easing, massaging and stretching his preteen slave's boycunt as thoroughly and as carefully as possible, so that it at least stood a chance of accommodating his huge fist, which was the size of a large orange. Three fingers 3; the boy was wincing a little, so Wolf gave him a wooden stick to bite on, to help the twelve year old to bear the pain he was about to inflict.

Four fingers 3; the boys eyes were rolling around wildy as he struggled not to scream. He called out to Wolf: "The ballgag sir! Put it back on me, then I can do it! It's here somewhere sir 3; I think it fell off while you were hammering the nails into the cross 3; put it on me, then I can't say my safeword 3; I'll just do it for you sir 3; just do it 3; just do it 3;"

"No ballgag boy" came the reply "I want to hear you scream, and I want to hear your safeword!"

The four fingers were right inside him now, though not deep inside, and the Wolfman introduce his thumb tentatively, prompting a sharp intake of breath from the boy. The child's body was dripping with sweat, and he squirmed around feverishly within his bonds, in a mixture of fierce sexual anticipation and sheer terror. The man's fingers and thumb were still straight 3; he hadn't made a fist yet, and most of his hand was still outside the youngster's body. Gently, gently, slowly, slowly, a fraction of an inch by a fraction of an inch, he reached inside the body of the boy who had given himself so willingly for experimentation. The bravest boy. The boy who was allowed his master to physically touch him deeper inside his preteen body than anyone really had any right to do. The boy who wanted to prove himself to be the toughest, wildest, wickedest boy ever. The Peter Pan who let the Captain penetrate him with his hook. The Jim Hawkins who let Long John Silver sodomise him with his wooden leg 3;

Wolf tried desperately to make his hand as slim as possible as he ploughed deeper inside the child, who was whimpering now in an impossibly confused state of pure sexual pleasure and wretched, painful despair. As he took the plunge, and finally buried his whole hand as gently as possible into the young boy's anus, the twelve year old treble gave an agonsied animal scream so utterly brutal and piercing 3;: "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEE !!!!!!!!!!!!! !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
3; that it physically damaged the aristocrat's ears – causing them to bleed internally. He actually had to stop what he was doing an cover his ears up for a few seconds because the sound was too loud and too penetrating and too cruel to bear. He had never heard a boyslave yell in this way before 3; it was a scream that showed that the twelve year old was now enduring levels of pain utterly undreamt of, even by his master. Wolf hoped fervently that it would not prove to be the young swimmer's death cry.

Then, Wolf grew accustomed to the terrible scream, which showed no sign of ending, and he began to like it. He was glad the session was being filmed, for it would make quite a document. Young Rob was an awesome little performer.

He heard the wooden stick between the twelve year old's teeth splintering, and another animal wail rose from the very soles of the child's feet, up thru his legs, deep from below his lungs, up and out through his choirboy throat. It was the sound of a twelve year old boy having his body torn asunder, whilst still in the midst of deep sexual passion 3; a masochistic sexual passion, but a passion nonetheless. Soon enough a small, thin trickle of blood emerged from the boy's rectum. It ran down Wolf's arm, down the man's body, and became lost in the mass of public hair around his enormous penis, which was dripping copiously with pre-cum.

With great reluctance, the man decided to withdraw his hand. But when he began to do so, Rob's head spun round and he glared at Wolf furiously, and yelled lustily at him, using his little private schoolboy swearwords: "Don't you bloody well dare stop now sir, you bloody idiot!"

Normally of course such words would have earned the youngster another whipping, but Lord Wolf knew that the boy was, quite literally, under a considerable amount of stress and pressure, so the benevolent aristocrat deigned to let it pass. He proceeded to slide his fist and the whole of his forearm gently up and down, right inside the fiery-hot boycunt of the child tied down underneath him in bondage, on the black leather torture bed. He marvelled at the way the boy threw his charming head right back in agony as his fist split him deeper and deeper. Eventually, he was able to reach into the boy up to his elbow, so that he had a peculiar sensation that his fingetips had dissolved right inside the child. They had almost become melded into one single creature. Wolf was sure that it the boy hadn't been tied down, he would have been able to raise up his strong fisting arm to the ceiling with the preteen still impaled upon it, like the Statue of Liberty holding aloft her torch. He was absolutely certain that he was so deeply embedded inside the boy's body that the impaled child would not have fallen to the ground.

Deeper and deeper into the boy he went, wondering mischievously whether it might be possible to enter the boy so deeply that his very hairy armpit would end up slapping against the entrance to the twelve year old boy's smooth anus.

Beneath him, as his body was continuously pounded, the youngster was reaching a state of absolute delirium. He seemed to be babbling at random about people and places that had been important to him in his life 3; most of it seemed to relate to the sexual, physical and emotional abuse that he had suffered.

The boy kept talking about a hospital, and a swimming club, and a cub scout camp in the New Forest. Diving lessons, and a private school, and being left alone, and being abandoned by his family, and being tortured, and shadows coming into his bedroom at night 3; and into his hospital room. Men who were death. Men who had come to kill him. The Childcatcher. Lord of the Flies. Water torture chamber 3; the boy who survived when everyone said he would die 3; and then the child began to shout about the boys he was sexually attracted to at boarding school 3; Michael 3; Jon with the blond hair 3; Timmy with his Speedo bag 3; Johnno with his legs apart 3; and he began babbling about a young British diver of exactly his own age called Thomas who he'd seen on TV, and had fallen in love with from afar 3; Thomas was going to win a gold medal in the London Olympics in 2012, when he'd be eighteen 3; Rob would be eighteen then too 3; if he lived that long 3; if he survived all this 3; all these thoughts spewed out of the boy's mouth as his slender, bound body was pounded unrelentingly by his master. Then the boy seemed to wake up and shouted urgently "Sir! Sir! You're making me come! I have to come Sir I can't stop"

"Hold it in boy, hold it in!" barked Wolf, pistoning the twelve year old mercilessly, lost in his own delerium of intense sadism. Then he felt the boy's whole body shudder and judder as he reached an extraordinary sexual climax. The boy wept freely as he ejaculated a small amount of boycum into the man's free hand. Wolf smeared the precious boyjuice onto his tongue and swallowed it, enraptured by the fresh taste. Nothing tastes better than twelve year old boycum. Then the child's penis kept ejacualting so that his little body was wracked with a series of dry orgasms which showed no sign of stopping. The boy was sqeaking with excitement when he wasn't sobbing in agony.

Gently, gently, slowly, slowly, Wolf withdrew his bloody forearm and his massive fist from deep inside the boy's quivering, torn frame. The aristocrat had to use another of his purple swimming towels with the trident motifs to stem the gush of blood from his boyslave's utterly ravaged little boycunt. The boy lost consciousness as he lost blood, and Wolf released him swiftly and took his to the medical room, where a team of doctors was waiting to operate on him. The aristocrat considered fucking the unconscious boy on the operating table before the treatment took place 3; it would make a wonderful DVD extra 3; but he decided that that would be a rather selfish and irresponsible act.

The boy was patched up extremely fast, and the doctors marvelled at the lad's levels of endurance. One even joked that the little athlete's next speedo should be one of those that you see boys wearing sometimes with the word 'endurance' embroided onto it. Wolf snorted in derison and said the only speedos this boy would wear would be emblazoned with the word "Boyslave", to remind the youngster of his position of servitude. Against the doctor's advice, Wolf began slapping the boy hard around the face to wake him up. The twelve year old groaned a little, and managed to open one eye a fraction. He gazed lovingly up at his master and whispered:

"Did I do OK sir? Was I the youngest boy ever to do it?"

Lord Wolf looked grimly back at the boy he had wrecked, and said coldly: I have a final challenge for you boy 3; and this one WILL kill you!"

Rob shivered and stared at his master in utter disbelief. He could not speak 3; his head whirled in boyish confusion.

Wolf disappeared from the medical room for a few moments, and came back carrying a black leather sack. From the sack, the sadist produced the biggest black dildo young Rob had ever seen. The boy felt his cock twitch unexpectedly with excitement when he first saw it, but then he noticed with alarm that the instrument of torure was covered with little knife-blades, razors and needles. Wolf ran the instrument across the boy's chest a little , cutting him easily as the demonic blades "This device, boy" boomed Wolf, "Is the Dildo of Death! No boy has ever agreed to test it out for me 3; Do you consent to its immediate use, to complete our little training session?"

The boy looked up at Wolf and tears filled his eyes 3; it was so unfair 3; and he began to protest fervently "Sir 3; I'm twelve years old! You've just given me the most enormous fist fucking ever and I 3; I did it for you 3; Sir, isn't that enough? I loved it Sir, even though you ripped me up inside 3; but this 3;" The child looked in absolute terror at the deranged instrument, and something finally clicked in his mind. Suddenly everything fell into place. He was no longer confused 3; he knew exactly what he wanted.

He spoke clearly and confidently, raising himself up a little from the operating table as he did so.

"I don't want to die sir 3; I want to be a boy, and I want to swim and I want to dive and I want to have boyfriends and do bondage 'n' stuff!" His eyes shone with excitement, and he glared defiantly up at his master and said "I'm not going to die for you sir 3; and here's my safeword to prove it 3;"

In his gorgeous choirboy treble, the schoolboy called out the word: "Ganymede. GANYMEDE. GANYMEDE. GANYMEDE. I'm free! I'm a boy and I'm free and I've done it! Ganymede!!! Gosh I want to go home now please sir 3; I've done it sir 3; I've done it!"

Lord Wolf breathed the most enormous sigh of relief and hugged the boy gently for a long time, and all those present were amazed to see a tear trickling down the aristocrat's face. He was so relieved, he could not contain himself. Rob had been the hardest boy to train in more than fifteen years of experimentation.

The boy and the man held each other, knowing that they had each saved the other from a kind of hell. The boy angel and the man angel 3; celestial beings of fierce white light.

A week later, Rob was fully fit and recovered in mind and body, thanks to the expert attentions of Lord Wolf and his medical staff. The final farewells were fervent but chaste, and Rob had an open invitation to return if ever he wished to do so.

As before, the boy was taken home in a big black chauffeur-driven car. It had massive leather seats which allowed him to sprawl around without inhibitions. He was the only passenger, and the chauffeur never spoke. Rob put his hand inside little trousers and gently stroked his preteen cock through the gorgeous silky fabric of his tight little black speedos. As always, he could never resist a little extra masturbation. He climaxed silently, stifling a boyish little cry, and licked his own boycum discreetly but eagerly from his fingers.

They seemed to be coming out of the dark countryside now,and into the city. The London suburbs looked as bleak as ever 3; but he needed to see something ordinary after the feverish activity of Lord Wolf's domain.

The back door of his home was left open, as always, and he walked back in.

"Hi Mum! I'm home!"

"How was swim training camp, darling?" she asked warmly, giving him a hug.

"Great! I'm really fast now!"

"You look even taller" she said, ruffling his hair.

"Oh 3; don't do that!" he grinned up at her.

"Are you OK darling? You're walking a bit funny 3;"

"Yeah, swim training was really hard and I'm aching all over 3; but Ill be fine 3; it was just BRILLIANT Mum 3; I'm SUPERFAST now!!!"

He looked out of the kitchen window. His dad was playing football with his younger brother in the back garden. He wandered upstairs and threw his swimming bag into his cupboard. Then he stretched out on his bed and stared at the ceiling.

"The youngest boy EVER to do it" he whispered to himself, grinning with boyish delight "And I still came out alive 3; I'm the boy who lived 3; the boy who lived.".

The End