I have no idea if there is such a tournament held in Fort Wayne—if there is, it is entirely coincidental. I know absolutely nothing about gymnastics tournaments, so I am making all this up.
The Tri-state Junior Artistic Gymnastics Tournament attracted gymnasts ages eleven to fourteen from all over Ohio, Indiana, and Michigan. For three days, it filled the Allen County War Memorial Coliseum in Fort Wayne, Indiana with excited young girls, harried parents, and nervous coaches. This year, Olympic gymnast Nastia Liukin attended the Tournament. On the first day, she had given an exhibition, to the delight of the hundred or so junior gymnasts (not to mention their fathers and brothers).
On the third and final day, the crowds had thinned out somewhat, since they were down to the finals, with just a dozen girls competing for the gold, silver, and bronze medals. Many of the girls who competed in the first two days stayed to watch the finals, so the arena was still buzzing with young girls in leotards. There were also lots of younger girls who came as part of the Gymnastics Schools in the area, so there were hundreds of littler girls in cute leotards as well.
He arrived at the tournament early on the third day, an hour or so before the finals competition would begin. As he approached the line of people passing through security check to enter the arena, he took a pad of Post-its out of his pocket. With a pen, he wrote “PRESS” on one, pulled it off, and stuck it to the lapel of his shirt. He had an impressive-looking camera bag hanging around his neck. He got in the line, which moved fairly quickly. When he came to the rather tired guy in a “rent-a-cop” uniform, the man looked up, saw his badge, and waved him on through.
When he got inside, he pulled off the Post-it and threw it away. He got in line at the concession area, noticing a couple of cute twelve-year-old gymnasts in line ahead of him with an adult—one of the girls’ mother. The girl on the right was a cute little Asian, with her long black hair in a braid down her back. She wore a shiny red leotard and matching sneakers. The one on the left was a little taller, with short blonde hair in a pixie cut. She wore a yellow leotard that came over one shoulder and bared the other one, paired with black sneakers.
As he watched them, the Asian girl’s red leotard rose up her thighs until it was cut high above her hips, with just a thin strip of cloth running between her ass cheeks and her crotch. Her entire ass was bare, and in front the cloth went between her pussy lips exposing them instead of covering them. Her sneakers became shiny red high heels. Her friend’s leotard morphed downward, and where before it bared one shoulder, now it bared her entire left side, exposing half her chest and with its small cone-shaped titty and a very pert reddish nipple. The back of the leotard dipped, exposing her entire back down to the curve of her ass. Her sneakers changed to clear plastic wedge sandals with open toes and 4” heels.
The girls and their mother ignored him. He moved toward the little blonde, getting close enough to cop a feel of the exposed, barely-rounded breast and hard nipple. She didn’t react at all as he felt her up. The woman, presumably the blonde’s mother, who was standing in front of the girls, was waiting patiently for the line to move. She looked back at the two girls, giving no reaction to their altered outfits. She looked at him as he rubbed her daughter’s breast, and only smiled amiably at him. Seeing nothing out of the ordinary, she turned around, took out her phone and checked it, her mind soon elsewhere.
After groping and pinching the blonde’s boob, he turned his attention to her Asian friend. He reached down and pulled aside the cloth strip over her pussy, and stroked a finger along the lips. She looked up and him and smiled, not bothered in the least, but pushed back against his finger. He dipped his finger into her pussy, but found himself stopped by her intact virginity. He continued stroking her until he felt her getting wet. Once his fingers had gotten wet, he moved his hand to her butt, and pushed the slick wet digits up her ass. It was enticingly tight, and he pushed his fingers in and out for several minutes.
As he was occupied with this, the line continued to move, and eventually the woman moved to the counter to order for her and the two girls. He withdrew his fingers from the Asian girl’s ass, then held his slick and slightly dirty fingers in front of the blonde’s face. She licked his fingers clean, giving no sign that she saw anything unusual about this activity.
He let the woman and the two girls wander off as he walked up to the counter. They were still dressed obscenely, but no one around them took any notice. He turned to the man behind the counter and ordered a candy bar and a soda. He paid with a pair of fives—in Monopoly money—to which the salesclerk replied that he hoped he had enough in his register to make change. He pulled all of the twenties out of his register, a couple of ones, and 43 cents in change.
With plenty of time to kill, he wandered along the outside of the arena, watching the people, and especially the girls. He made a few alterations to their clothes, and soon a trail of girls from ages six to fourteen were wearing indecent versions of gymnastics attire.
A raised voice to one side interrupted his fun. A young boy, about ten or so, was loudly complaining about having to sit through another day of “sissy gymnastics stuff” just because his sister wanted to. Several people around cast annoyed glances his direction, as he complained louder and louder. His mother and sister looked embarrassed, both trying to get him to quiet down. Luckily for all, he had a solution. As the boy continued his tantrum, his black Suicide Squad teeshirt and jeans faded to pink, and morphed into a sparkly leotard and tights, with pink sneakers with poms on the back. The spandex was tight enough, his little package was outlined clearly at his crotch. Hoop earrings appeared on his ears, and a pink bow appeared in his long brown hair. When his outfit changed, his demeanor changed also. He spoke quietly but enthusiastically to his family, insisting that they needed to get in the arena right away, so he wouldn’t miss any of the competition. He asked his mother plaintively if he could begin taking gymnastics lessons like his older sister.
Continuing down the concourse, he saw the Olympic gymnast Nastia Liukin, a cute, petite, but very much adult blonde. She stood in front of a life-sized poster of herself in a leotard, with a leotard manufacturer’s logo emblazoned across her chest. She greeted and talked with an endless stream of young gymnasts, posing for selfies with her sponsor’s logo in the background. As he looked on, the image on the poster changed. The sponsor’s logo remained, but her leotard faded to white. It became sheer, so sheer that her nipples were clearly visible above the logo, and her pussy lips and dark blond bush were visible below. The in-person Nastia was already wearing heels, but instead of the tight capris and polo shirt with the sponsor’s logo on the lapel, she suddenly was wearing a very tight white crop top and very short skirt with shiny sheer hose. Now, when she posed for a selfie with a fan, her nipples showed prominently through the crop top, and as she knelt down, she showed off her bare nylon-covered crotch.
She greeted a six-year-old fan wearing a cute purple leotard, then knelt down next to her so her mother could take a picture. The original idea was that she would kneel down, kiss the little one on the cheek, and smile for the camera. What actually happened was that she knelt down, flipped her skirt up to flash her nylon covered crotch, then leaned in and kissed the six-year-old girl on the lips, thrusting her tongue between the little girl’s lips—and that was exactly when the little girl’s mother took the picture.
When she stood up, Nastia was breathing hard, trying to figure out why she had just Frenched a six-year-old fan, and even more so, why she was turned on by it.
He considered spending more time with Nastia, slowly turning her into a nympho lesbian pedophile, when he noticed the time and realized he needed to get into the arena before the competition started.
As he walked into the arena, he could see it was filling up. Down on the floor, the twelve finalists were warming up, taking turns on the four apparatus. He made his way down to the lower tier, right above the floor of the arena. He noticed a couple of guys in seats in an ideal location, close to the balance beam and the vault. As he watched, they turned to face each other. They smiled, then began kissing each other passionately. As he made his way toward the row they were on, they got up, held hands and skipped up the stairs, past him and out of the arena.
He sat down in one of the vacated seats. He watched the twelve girls practicing on the four apparatus. He mused over how to improve their outfits, making a few changes here or there. A tall black girl, one of the oldest competitors from the size of her breasts and the curve of her hips and ass, was practicing on the balance beam. As she dismounted, her purple leotard was changed to purple body paint. Her small tits and pointy nipples were clearly visible. Only her pink slit, visible when she spread her legs, was a different color.
Another girl, a tiny Asian girl with no noticeable tits or rounding to her hips, practiced on the vault, wearing a black and silver unitard. As she ran down to vault the horse, holes appeared in the fabric, exposing her dark areolae, her pink slit, and the crack of her ass.
As he was deciding what to do to a cute little Latina who was getting ready to practice on the uneven bars, he was interrupted by a voice behind him.
“Sir, that is not your seat, is it? Excuse me, sir?” He turned and saw a fat middle-aged woman speaking to him with an annoying, nasally voice. She wore a dark blue polo shirt and khaki slacks. She had a name tag pinned to her shirt, identifying herself as an usher or something.
“Excuse me?” he asked, acting as if he hadn’t understood her.
“Sir, just because a ticket-holder leaves his seat, doesn’t mean that it is up for grabs. These are assigned seats. Can I see your ticket? You’ll need to move.”
He looked at her with a bemused expression. Generally speaking people either ignored him or came up with logical reasons why he was supposed to be where he was. Evidently, she enjoyed annoying people enough that she couldn’t do either. He stared at her for a moment. Annoying.
“I’m sorry, what were you saying again?” He said.
“I said, do you want a drink, Sir? Nice fresh nutritious milk, only fifty cents.” She said, her tone changing. Her polo shirt was gone, her large, sagging tits on full display. She had a cow bell around her neck. “50¢” was written below her tits on her fat stomach. The tag was now piercing the skin above her right teat, and said “Milk Maid.” She was hefting one of her tits, offering it to him. Both nipples had dribbles of milk running down the underside.
“No thanks, I’m good.” He said, holding up his soda cup.
She turned and headed away, yelling “Moo! Get your fresh breast milk here! These big fat udders are full of milk, only fifty cents!”
He turned back around, took a long sip of his soda, satisfied that he was helping her be more useful. Then he frowned as he realized he had completely missed the Latina on the uneven bars. He found her, moving to the balance beam, and changed her pale blue leotard into a completely sheer mesh one that exposed her beautiful mocha skin, small breasts, and round ass.
The next girl up on the uneven bars was a pale white girl, with white-blonde hair in a pixie cut, and bright blue eyes. Her bright blue leotard became a very tiny micro-bikini that did nothing to hide her twelve-year-old tits, and the bottoms didn’t completely cover her pussy lips. She practiced her uneven bar routine as though nothing had changed, but watching her do the routine in that outfit was pure eroticism.
He turned to where three of the girls were practicing the vault. He had never understood the vault—running, and jumping, and tumbling over a leather covered horse. It was over in just a few seconds. What was the fun in that? Somehow, it seemed out of place compared to the other apparatus. As he pondered what to do, he looked at the girls practicing and began making changes to their outfits. He was interrupted when a loud horn sounded. The girls left the stage and returned to their seats along the sides. The crowd quieted down as a man approached a podium in the middle of the stage between the balance beam and the floor exercise area.
“Welcome to the third day of competition, Ladies and Gentlemen! I am Howard Alterbach, President of the Tri-state chapter of the National Artistic Gymnastics Association of America. On this third day of competition, we are down to twelve finalists, who will be competing for the gold, silver, and bronze medals in the tournament today. The three medal recipients will also be invited to compete in the National Junior Gymnastics Tournament held in Madison Square Garden in October.”
“Now, as you know, the finalists will be scored by the judges for the four apparatus, with the total scores determining their ranking. The four apparatus are, of course, Floor Exercise, Balance Beam, Uneven Bars, and Vault.” As he listed the four, he pointed to each area of the stage. When he got to the last, a large four-poster bed sat where the vaulting horse had been.
Howard Alterback shook his head and chuckled nervously. “What am I saying? The four apparatus are Floor Exercise, Balance Beam, Uneven Bars, and Fucking—I don’t know why I said Vault. Sorry about that.”
“Now, there will be four rotations, with three of the girls performing on each of the four apparatus, then rotating around until all have competed on all four. Can I have the Fucking apparatus proctor take his place on the apparatus?”
As the speaker said this, he stood up and made his way down and across to the bed, where he nonchalantly took off his clothes and hung them over one of the bedposts.
The girls moved to their respective apparatus, with three of them approaching him at the bed. The first up on the “Fucking” apparatus was the cute little blonde wearing the tiny blue bikini. A springboard had been set up next to the bed, and she sprang up and into the bed, making her mount on the apparatus, gracefully tumbling across it to where he was.
Her supporters yelled “Go, Tina!” as she smiled and took his cock in her small hands. She began kissing and licking along its length, stroking it as she did. She licked his balls, then moved her mouth to the bulbous tip. She could barely get the tip in her mouth, but couldn’t get much more than that. She used her hands to stroke the shaft and massage the balls. He reached and pulled off her bikini top and pinched her nipples playfully.
It didn’t take long before her efforts had him spraying all over her face. Her routine wasn’t finished, however. Licking the cum from her face, she tumbled over gracefully and presented her ass to him. She reached behind and moved her little blue thong out of the way.
He moved forward until the tip of his cock was at her little rosebud asshole. His cock was still a little slick with her saliva and his cum, so when he pushed in, there was a little lubrication. She grimaced as he filled her ass, but she knew if she screamed or cried, there’d be a deduction to her score. He slowly pushed in, enjoying the delicious tightness of her twelve-year-old ass. He got into a rhythm of pushing in and out of her ass, as she grunted with each thrust. Finally, he came, shooting rope after rope of cum into her bowels.
As he withdrew, wiping himself on the sheets, she did a flip, spreading her legs wide, then came down on the mattress, sprung back up, and dismounted on the pad next to the bed. As she smiled to the crowd and they cheered her performance, she dripped cum from her gaping ass.
He sat and rested as she walked with a slightly bow-legged gait to join her coach. The judges gave her an 8.5, a 9.7, and a 9.1, for a very good average score of 9.1.
He looked over and saw the little Latina gymnast in the blue mesh leotard getting ready for her mount, and wondered if he would last through twelve finalists. He would just have to tough it out. After all—who knows? He might be helping one of these junior gymnasts win an Olympic gold medal one day.
