Dark Carnival

“No, dummy, my parents think I’ve over by you and yours think you’re over by me. It’s perfect! We can be here as late as we like and then sneak into my bedroom window. Then in the morning, we just have to sneak back out before anyone sees us and go over to your place for breakfast. There’s no way they’ll ever know that we came here.”

Lance handed his ticket to the burly man at the gate and pushed through the turnstile. Considering that it was the last night that the carnival would be in town, the crowd was lighter than the boys were expecting. They had wanted to come before, but had been caught skipping school and their parents had forbidden them to come. But Lance and Peter were used to getting around their parents’ instructions, and had made it anyway.

They set out to discover the best rides. There was a huge roller coaster, but the line for it was very long and so they tried the smaller rides instead. Their plan was to save the best ride for last. Moving around the people, they chatted aimlessly and had the occasional snack. With the evening reaching its climax, they again went back to the big roller coaster.

Considering that this was one of those pack-up-and-go carnivals, the ride looked quite impressive to the boys. There was the usual up and down drops, but part of it went into a building and from the conversations of the people coming off, it was clear that there were some good thrills in there. As they got closer to the head of the line, their excitement and nervousness grew.

“Come on and step aboard for the ride of you life,” the attendant was saying as he loaded the riders, “You’ll go so fast, you’ll feel like your clothes will be ripped right off of you!”

When Lance and Peter finally got up to the edge of the tracks, the man put up his hand.

“Hang on boys,” he said, “We just need to return one of our carts to the ride.”

Another man moved a very flashy looking cart from a side track onto the main one. It was painted with splashes of red and the word “Thunderbolt” was emblazoned on the side. Smiling at the cool cart they’d gotten, the two boys eagerly climbed in. The attendant strapped them in (rather tightly, too) and they started to move. Like all good roller coasters, there was an agonizing buildup as they slowly accessed to the peak of the launching point. There was an unusual pause just before they reached the top and something that looked like a camera panned over them.

“What’s that for?” Peter asked.

“They probably have those things where you can see yourself on the ride after you get off,” Lance guessed.

“At this cheap outfit? I doubt that.”

At that point, they lurched forward and the conversation ceased. They were pitched down the steep incline, the ground rushing toward them and breakneck speed. They yelled in glee and would have lifted their hands in the air, but they found the way that they had been strapped in prevented this. The ride went up and down and through a double loop. They went through a corkscrew and saw the building approaching.

“Here comes the best part!” Lance shouted at they were swallowed by the dark structure. There were low lights on, but suddenly they went off. Figuring this was just part of the ride, the boys screamed good-naturedly, but this was cut short when they felt a sickening lurch beneath them. Their cart jerked violently to the left and dropped down. Before, they had seen a light at the edge of the tunnel, but now there was total darkness. At that point, the boys still considered that this was part of the ride (although much scarier than they had expected) but when they felt their wrists, ankles and middles suddenly encircled by cold metal restraints, they went from fear to full blown panic. Even with no light, they could tell when the sides of the cart suddenly fell away and they were rushing along in the dark pinned to an unprotected seat. There were sudden flashes of light, but this did not only served to push them into full terror as the sides of the tunnel were revealed to have wicked-looking hooks mounted on mechanical arms. Unable to move an inch, the boys plunged forward.

Lance felt one hook snag on the shoulder of his shirt and the momentum of the ride ripped if open and tore it from his body. Peter was caught on his pants leg and it tore up the side, exposing his bare leg to the rushing wind. They were slowing down slightly, but the hooks kept snagging at them, tearing at their clothes and stripping them away. Both of their shirts were gone and Peter’s pants were in tatters. Then the seat split in half and new hooks came up from the center, snagging the sides of their pants that had been protected by each other’s bodies. Unable to do anything but scream, Lance felt as his jeans were torn away completely, leaving him with only his white briefs. Peter was in even worse condition, as his underpants had been torn on one side. They could see through the flashes of light that they were approaching a wall. Even at the slower speed, they were expecting a violent crash, but suddenly the wall opened and they zoomed into harsh bright light. What remained of their cart lurched to a sudden stop, and they were thrown painfully against their restraints.

The boys did not know what had gone wrong with their ride, but at the moment their only thought was that they were happy to be alive. Their eyes struggled to focus in the light and their breath came in hard, painful hitches. It was only as Peter’s eyes because used to the brightness that he realized how wrong the scene was.

He’d expected to see the inner working of the roller coaster. Perhaps an engineer or two making the engines go. He did not expect to see a crowd of the most bizarre looking people he’d ever laid eyes on. There was a man who looked like he had been on steroids from the age of two standing next to a meaty-looking midget. There was a man with a metal helmet wearing a shirt with a streaking cannonball depicted on the front. To one side, there were two rather creepy looking clowns who, for some strange reason, had enormous fake penises attached to the front of their baggy pants. Behind them all was a tall man wearing a tall hat and dressed in bright, gaudy clothes.

“Did you enjoy your ride?” the man in the hat said in a hiss.

“No!” Lance said in an explosion of breath. “What happened! That was the worst accident I’ve ever been in! What kind of a shitty operation are you guys running?”

Peter kept his mouth shut. Something was not at all right here and the hair on the back of his neck was standing straight up. He was nearly naked and was very aware of that fact.

“Actually, it’s a very smooth operation,” the man said, glaring at Lance with his hooded eyes. You don’t have a scratch on you, do you?”

“What! My clothes got all torn up! Get me the fuck out of this thing! My dad’s going to sue your asses off!”

“Oh?” the man said calmly. “So your father knows where you are, then?”

Now Peter knew that something was very wrong. There was real danger here and he whispered for Lance to shut up.

“Just take these fucking things off me!” Lance demanded.

“I do not care to hear any more curse words from you,” the man said. “Nothing that has happened to you has been an accident. Samson, show master Lance how we deal with foul-mouthed boys in our carnival.”

“Yes, Ringmaster,” the muscle-bound man said, moving toward Lance.

“How…how do you know my name?” Lance stammered, starting to switch from anger back to fear.

The Ringmaster pulled out a TV remote and a large screen came to life. Peter watched a grainy video of him and Lance entering the carnival earlier that night, followed by various snippets of them in front of different booths in the park. There was an audio as well and the two boys could be heard discussing how clever they were to sneak out and how there was no way their parents would ever find out where they had gone. Peter didn’t feel at all smart, now.

With a loud snap, the restraints came off of Lance, but he had no chance to move before the slab of beef grabbed him by the wrists and yanked him up.

“Let go!” he said, but it was more of a plea than a demand. In any case, it was ignored. Holding him by his wrists, the man called Samson carried the boy across the room to a padded table. He forced him face down onto it, with his legs dangling over the side. As he fastened the manacles around the blonde boy’s thin wrists, the midget secured his kicking feet.

“Now,” the Ringmaster said, “you will learn what we do with dirty boys like you!”

“Please don’t hurt me!” Lance begged. “I’m sorry!”

The strongman walked over to the wall and opened a cabinet. Peter could not see what all was inside because the man’s bulky body was in the way, but he brought out a thick wooden paddle.

“No!” Lance said when he realized what the man was holding in his meaty hand, “No, you won’t!”

“Yes, he will,” the Ringmaster purred. “And very hard, too. It’s clear that you’ve not had enough of this kind of punishment in your life, but we’ll take care of that, now.”

“Peter!” Lance bleated as the man moved into position behind him, “Help me!”

“I can’t!” Peter wailed, still held fast to his seat. He watched in dread as the muscled arm drew back and then swung the paddle at the center of his friend’s underpants-covered

rear.

WHAP!!

Lance screeched in pain as the heavy paddle connected with his bottom, but it was only the start. The huge man effortlessly swung the paddle again and again, filling the room with the sound of boyflesh being severely punished. Peter cringed with each new blow, but it was nothing compared to the howls Lance was producing. There were probably 30 hard blows in all before the giant man stopped.

“That will do for now, thank you Samson,” the Ringmaster said. “I think the lad has learned that swearing is not a privilege for snot-nosed little boys.”

Being 13, Lance normally would have taken offence at being called a little boy, but he was in no state to object to anything. Peter watched as his friend tried to get his breath back while till crying like a baby.

“What about this other one, boss,” Samson said, pointing towards Peter with the paddle in his hand, “Want me to do him, too?”

“Why not?” the evil Ringmaster said slyly, “But no paddle for him, I think. Just your hand should do the job.”

Peter tried to shy away as the man came for him, but he had nowhere to go. The man’s huge hands encircled his wrists in a crushing grip and lifted him up. His straining shoulders hurt as he was carried by his arms over to the table next to Lance. None of his pleading did any good. His underpants were torn on one side and fell open, exposing the left half of his bottom. He did not even bother to fight as he was locked down next to his friend.

“Let’s get rid of these, shall we?” he heard the big man say and then his briefs were violently ripped from his body. He was totally naked with his very vulnerable ass sticking up in the air. His one thought was that at least the man had put down the paddle.

SMACK!!

Peter’s world exploded in a rush of pain. The man’s hand was as big as his entire ass and he must have used all his strength. He was sure that his scream was as loud as Lance’s had been.

SMACK!! SMACK!! SMACK!! Restrained as he was, there was nothing he could do but take it and screech. The hard, firm hand brought new levels of pain with each blow. It rapidly became intolerable, but his pleads fell on deaf ears, if they were even comprehendible. It wasn’t until he realized that several seconds had passed without a fresh spank that his mind started working again.

“That’s a good start,” the Ringmaster was saying, “Now they need to be cleaned out.”

Peter didn’t know what was going on until he heard Lance say, “No, please don’t!”

Unsure if he wanted to look or not, he turned his head over his shoulder and saw one of the horrifying clowns pulling down Lance’s underpants. The other one was approaching him with a hose in his hand. His stinging cheeks were roughly pried apart and he felt something cold and hard against his puckered little boyhole. From the sounds of things, Lance was having the same experience. After being jabbed at several times in this most sensitive of spots, the metal thing was taken away, but not for long. When it was placed back, Peter could tell that it had been coated with something greasy. This time when it was pushed against him, his virgin anus could not keep it out and he felt a jolt of tearing pain as it went an inch or two inside him. When he heard Lance grunt in displeasure, he knew that he’d been invaded as well.

“Now,” the Ringmaster said, “Fill them up!”

The clown did something with the nozzle and suddenly Peter found his guts being filled with liquid. At first it was just an extremely strange and mildly uncomfortable feeling (nothing compared to his still-stinging bottom!) but as the seconds passed, the pressure increased. His stomach started to hurt and he began to panic.

“Stop! he pleaded. “I’ll burst!”

The clown behind him just chuckled and let the water continue to flow into him. When he finally did close the nozzle, Peter felt like the Goodyear blimp. If he was expecting any immediate relief, he was disappointed. The clown simply unscrewed the hoze and left the nozzle plugging him up.

“Please take it out!” Lance said. “I’m gonna split open!”

“No, you won’t,” the Ringmaster snickered. “You’ll be fine for fifteen minutes. Then, we’ll take it out and you’ll be clean inside.”

“Why are you doing this?” Lance asked with dread in his voice.

“You’ll find out soon enough,” the man with the cannonball on his shirt said. “Now I’d shut up if I were you.

The men went to the other side of the room and talked quietly among themselves. The two boys silently turned to face each other. They didn’t dare speak, but their eyes said volumes. Each boy realized that the other had no ideas on how to escape from their cruel and deranged captors. They tried to give each other hope, but there was none to give. By the time fifteen minutes had passed, they were in deep despair. Not to mention great pain from their insides cramping. They were released and dragged over to a pair of toilets. The clowns roughly yanked the nozzles out of their asses and pushed them down as the water exploded out of them. Even though they were now unrestrained, the only door was locked and the spankings and enemas had weakened them too much to even try and run. The clowns hosed off their butts and then they were thrown down on a hard bed. The Cro-Magnon known as Samson approached Peter and started to peel off his clothes.

“I got sweaty from beating your two asses,” he growled, “and I don’t like sweat on my balls. I want you to lick them off.”

He took off his pants (Peter noted idly that the man had been free-balling it) and pushed his musky crotch in the boy’s face. His balls were huge and hairy and his dense black pubic bush was matted with sweat. His massive uncircumcised penis was limp and swinging. Peter look at him in panic.

“Do it, boy,” the man said in a low voice that was threatening enough to make him stick out his tongue and lick the underside of his scrotum. It was very salty and not at all pleasant, but he survived it and clearly he one lick was not going to be enough. Trying not to think about what he was doing, he licked Samson’s nuts all over, choking on loose ball hairs.

“Now my cock,” the man said, “Open your mouth!”

As Peter opened his mouth to take in the sweaty sausage, Lance was being faced with a naked midget.

“I want my cock sucked, too, brat!” the little freak was saying. Peter caught a glance at the man’s grotesque genitals. Given their size, you would have thought that they belonged to a three-year-old, but they were covered with hair and his balls, thought tiny, hung low. Lance was forced to suck all of them as Peter was having to deal with the increasingly erect cock of the strongman. It had been wide and long to begin with, but as it filled with blood, it pressed on the back of this throat and made him gag. His eyes filled with panic as his breathing was restricted, but the giant continued to rape his mouth.

Fortunately, the man did not last too long. His big balls pulled up to his body and started to empty themselves into Peter’s mouth. The boy felt like he was drowning as gallons of cum were pumped into his throat. Samson pulled away, sperm and spit dripping from his foreskin and Peter coughed and hacked.

“Choke on it, bitch!” the midget said as he came in Lance’s mouth. Peter turned and watched Lance swallow the tiny load, but he spit it out, unable to control his hysterical laughter.

“You’re going to regret that, boy-whore!” the midget promised darkly.

“Come on, boss,” the cannonball man said, “I want ass. Can’t I have a go now?”

“No,” the Ringmaster said darkly, “They need to be warmed up first.”

The clowns with evil smiles painted on their faces approached the two cowering boys. Peter tried to scamper away, but the strongman held him. They were flipped face down and the large dildos were pressed against their asses.

“One, two, three, go!” one of the clowns said and they rammed in together. Both Lance and Peter shrieked as their insides were plowed open for the first time. Unlike the nozzles, these hard plastic cocks were deep inside them an they hurt badly. Much to the amusement of those watching, the clowns were moving in tandem as if one were a mirror image of the other. Peter felt totally dehumanized by the bizarre spectacle of these grinning fiends mock-fucking them.

“Enough,” the Ringmaster said after a few minutes of this treatment. “It’s not as if you two have real cocks to use. It’s time for someone else to take a turn.”

“Yea, I’m ready to explode! They don’t call me the Human Cannonball for nothing and my balls are ready!” the man with the shirt said as he dropped his pants. Peter got a look at his cock and was shocked. In terms of length and width, it was only slightly above average. Samson’s was much bigger. But the Human Cannonball’s cockhead was grotesquely large and looked like a tennis ball at the end of his dick. He knew what was coming as the strongman had stroked his slab of beef back into an erection, but didn’t know which would be worse.

He wasn’t given a choice. Samson lined up behind Lance and the Human Cannonball got him.

“No, no, it won’t fit!” he pleaded as the bulbous head was pressed against his anus.

“Yes, it will,” his would-be rapist said. “It’ll just hurt like fucking hell!”

Lance screamed as Samson rammed his missile into his defenseless boy hole, but Peter found that as much as his anus was stretched, it could not take the big cockhead that was pressing against it. The pain was so intense that he wished it would just get inside him so that the tearing force that was being applied to his back door would end. He soon got his wish, much to his regret.

The Human Cannonball took hold of his hips and yanked his little body towards him. At last the cannonball cock blasted its way inside Peter’s body, but the ripping agony was only increased as it thundered up his ravaged anus. The man was not slow; like his namesake he pounded the boy, his massive balls slamming against him with each damaging thrust. Peter thought he was going to explode from inside.

“Bombs away!” the man shouted after a few minutes of rectal rape. Peter was in too much pain to feel the explosive orgasm, but he understood that the man was cumming. Samson was still pounding Lance, but he seemed to be nearly done, too. The huge man was covered in sweat and it was running down his body in torrents and dripping all over his young victim. Lance screamed as he was subjected to a very deep thrust, punctuated by the strongman’s orgasm.

“Now me!” the midget said. He got up behind Lance and the boy looked over his shoulder in disbelief. Even Peter wondered what the point of this was. After being fucked by Samson, Lance’s anus was so wide that the midget’s cock would not even touch the sides.

“So, you think my cock is something to laugh at, do you?” the midget sneered. “Well, that’s not the only thing I’ve got!”

He took his left hand and coated it with the cum that was leaking from Lance’s boy pussy and then jammed his fist adjacent it. Lance screamed again. Despite being a midget, his hand was still bigger than Samson’s cock had been. And the midget had an axe to grind. He forced his hand in up to his shoulder and rammed his fist in and out of the boy. Peter was afraid that he would get the same treatment when the Ringmaster walked over.

“That’s enough, Tim,” he said in a low purr. “I think the boys get the idea.”

The midget withdrew his arm in a sharp jerk and wiped it off. The two clowns came and flipped the boys onto their backs and tied them down in a spread-eagled position.

“I’m sure you two want to know what this is all about,” the Ringmaster said. “Well, at the end of the day, it’s about these.”

He held Lance’s balls in his hand. They were slightly droopy, unlike Peter’s which had just started to drop. The Ringmaster gently massaged them in his hand, rather like the way a coin collector would touch a gold doubloon.

“Very nice,” the Ringmaster said, moving over to Peter and fingering his ballsac. “Just on the cusp of puberty. All that potential strength and vibrancy contained in such a small package.”

“You see boys,” he said, standing back and looking down on them with a hungry expression, “I’m old. Very, very, very old. A long time ago, I met…someone. I’m still not sure who he was, but I did something for him and he gave me a gift. I could live forever. There was a price, of course, but it wasn’t one I objected to paying. He merely required my testicles.”

The Ringmaster opened his pants and pulled out and ugly and shriveled uncircumcised penis. There was nothing underneath it.

“I was happy to part with them. They’d never brought me all that much joy in the first place. And to live forever, who wouldn’t? But that wasn’t all of it. He also required that every year, I must consume two balls from a boy who has given them up freely as I had done. If I did not, I would age a year. It wasn’t always easy, but I managed it. Only twice in hundreds of years, I have not managed to get what I needed. That’s where you come in. I need one of you to offer me your balls. You see that I mean business. I’ve gathered a crew around me for this purpose. If you don’t surrender them, I’ll just turn them loose on you until you’d wished you had.”

Peter and Lance looked at each other. What kind of a horrible choice was this? Even if one of them agreed to give up his balls, how did they know the Ringmaster would let them go?

“Of course,” the evil testicular vampire said, as if he’d read their minds, “By giving me your balls, I am making an oath with you. You’ll be let go unharmed. If I were to go back on my word, your nuts would loose their potency and would be useless to me.”

The two boys went back to looking at each other in a panic. Even if they believed the ringmaster, how could they stand to loose the one thing that defined them as boys?

“Let me persuade ‘em some more, boss,” the Human Cannonball said, “I’m gettin’ stiff again!”

“Mine! Take mine!” Peter shouted, before he could loose his nerve. The thought of being raped again by that piledriver was enough for him. Anything to end this nightmare.

“Ahh, we have a volunteer!” the Ringmaster said, moving over and reaching his hand between Peter’s legs. “Don’t guess you really know what you’re giving up, do you?”

Peter did know. He’d been jerking himself for a few months now. But it had to be one of them.

The Ringmaster’s face started to change, become thinner and his eyes were starting to glow. When he opened his mouth, Peter saw that two of his incisors has lengthened into fangs.

“Wait!” Lance said, making the terrified Peter jump. The Ringmaster turned to gaze at him.

“Can’t you…you said you needed two…can’t you take one from each of us?” he said in a voice that was breaking with fear.

The Ringmaster drew his head back.

“Very interesting,” he hissed. “I’ve never considered it in all these years.”

He stood up and put his chin in his hand. Peter could see that his nails had gotten longer, too. Watching that evil face consider this option was even scaring than the thought of being raped by one of the freaks again.

“I will try it,” the Ringmaster announced. “One from you, and one from the other boy. However, if it does not work, I’ll have to finish the job with one of you. Do you agree?”

Petrified with fright, Peter reluctantly nodded. Lance did the same and the evil being approached them again. Peter could smell his fetid breath as he bend over the boy’s helpless and exposed crotch. He snarled once and then bit down. Peter screamed as an ice-cold tooth sunk into his left testicle. The pain was beyond anything he’d ever imagined and he went on screaming until Samson covered his mouth with a meaty hand. The cold agony was unbroken for more than a minute before the Ringmaster stood up and moved over to Lance. Peter watched as his friend’s scrotum was punctured by the yellow fang and watched in horror as Lance’s right ball seemed to shrivel and dry up inside his nutsac. The Human Cannonball was covering Lance’s mouth, but Peter could read the agony behind his wide blue eyes. When the Ringmaster moved away, there was only one lonely ball in Lance’s scrotum. Peter looked down and saw that he was in the same state.

“Ahhh!” the Ringmaster said, standing up to his full height, “I feel the new strength flowing in my veins!”

Peter could see that he looked younger and more vital. In a way, this made him look even starier than before.

“I’ve gotten what I needed from then,” he said, waving dismissive to the boys, “Get rid of them!”

“No! You promised!” Peter screeched as Samson approached him, “You prom…”

A wet rag was placed over his face and he was hit with a wave of blackness. He tumbled into it, never expecting to awaken again.

* * *

“Peter, Peter, can you move?”

Bright light stung Peter’s eyes as he opened them. The morning sun was stabbing into them and he shut them again.

“Peter, you have to get up!”

He opened them again, this time shading them with his hand. A very haggard looking Lance was sitting next to him, looking downward. His memory came flooding back in a rush of pain and nightmare imagery.

Sitting up, he saw that they were in a vacant lot. Across the street was the site that the carnival had been, now equally vacant.

“Was it…real?” he asked.

“Yes, it was,” Lance whispered. “I…checked.”

Lance looked regretfully towards his crotch and Peter realized what he’d checked for. He looked at his own. He had great pain in his anus, but almost no feeling in his balls. Could they still be…

“I checked you, too,” Lance said, dashing that hope. “Sorry, I…had to. I didn’t want to believe.”

“We’re alive,” Peter said after a few moments of silence.

“Yes, and we still each have one.”

“It’ll work with one, won’t it?”

“Should. I don’t…feel like trying right now. Be a long time before I do,” Lance muttered.

“What do we do now?”

“Go home. Don’t tell anybody.”

“And try to forget,” Peter added.

“I can’t do that,” Lance said.

“I know. Every time we take a piss…”

“That’s not what I mean.”

“What did you mean, then?”

“Peter, you were going to give up your balls for me. How could I ever forget that? Even though you didn’t have to, I’ll never forget that as long as I live.”

Peter felt a confused rush of emotion. Lance stood up and offered him his hand. They walked silently out to the sidewalk and headed for home. Both boys were quite bowlegged, but no one seemed to notice. Eventually, their parents would discover that they each only had one testicle and the doctors would be mystified, but without the boys telling them anything, they would chalk it up to a medical mystery and implant a fake one. But there was nothing fake about the bond that the vampire had unwittingly formed in the two boys.

End Note: This story owes a great deal to Erik, you gave me a number of ideas for it. The villains were inspired by the Marvel Comics baddies known as the Ringmaster and his Circus of Crime. They were usually fighting the Hulk and I found the Ringmaster kind of creepy as a boy.