Date: Mon, 15 Mar 2004 06:34:20 -0000 (GMT)
From: ok_uwater@merlads.net
Subject: boy-daredevils-in-speedos-7

Copyright by Speedyboy and UndrCGuy, Mar 2004.  This story is submitted to
Nifty under their submission guidelines.   No part of this story can be
submitted or archived by anyone else without my express permission. If
you are too young or don't like stories about rough play with erotic
overtones press the back button NOW!

This story is fantasy.  The author does not endorse, encourage, or
consent to any attempt to make any of the below described scenes real.

Please send feedback to Speedyboy, speedyboy at merlads dot net or
ok_uwater at merlads dot net.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Paul?....Paul! can you hear me?", the ten-year-old whispered through
the bars of his cell, out into the darkness. The lights had been out
for an hour, but a ghostly green glow pervaded the sleeping area,
which was adequate for young eyes.  The place had been still since
the tormentors left, locking the door to the cell complex behind them.
Only the occasional dripping of distant water broke the silence.

"Rob?" the nine year old's small voice answered from nearby in the dark.

"We're going to rescue your brother, Paul...I have a plan!"

"Wow! I knew you'd come up with something. What are we gonna do?"

"Just be ready...I'll need you to make it work".

Rob dug deep into a well-concealed compartment of his sports bag, and
his fingers closed around his cub scout penknife. He checked the biggest
blade - it was small but strong and sharp. Then he arranged his bag and
some towels under the scant bedding to make the pile resemble the body
of a small boy under the covers. Finally, he crawled under the bed and
looked at the ancient grill at the base of the wall through which fresh
air entered the subterranean cell. It was rusty, and it yielded after a
short struggle.  Rob breathed a sigh of relief. At first he thought he
would never fit into the narrow duct, but the sides were helpfully slimy,
and soon his supple young body was in the vent. He let the slime cover
him, and imagined he was a snake, sliding keenly towards its prey. He
reached a junction, and took the fork that led more or less toward
Paul's cell.  The corner was a challenge, but he reminded himself of
how minor were his aches compared to Peter's agony.

Rob found himself facing another grill.

"Paul?" he whispered.

"Rob?" the voice was close, but it was the wrong cell. Rob made an
agonizing retreat up the tunnel, worried his way around another corner,
and wriggled a few more feet. Then he turned painfully into the tunnel
that must surely lead to Paul's cell.

"Paul?"

He could hear the nine-year old jump. "Rob! Where are you?"

Within seconds, the two boys were face to face, then the grill was off,
and Rob found himself taking Paul through the plan, step by step. Paul's
slight frame was considerably thinner than Rob's, even though only a year
separated the two youngsters, and the blond boy was as nimble as a ferret.

Paul hopped around the cell with excitement as Rob described how the
youngster would play a crucial role in saving his brother, by searching
the air ducts for a path to the cage pool room, and would then assist a
daring rescue. He quickly vanished into the tunnel. Rob arranged Paul's
bed so that it looked as though he too was asleep under the few sheets
he'd been given. Then he waited.

Rob took a gander at Paul's stuff...superhero comics, books about boys
improving their techniques in swimming, wrestling and boxing (full
of great photos, Rob mused, as his young fingers crept towards his
speedos), and a few photos of the two brothers receiving medals for
their achievements in pools much different from those in Lord Wolf's
domain. Despite his attempts to stay awake, the boy dozed in his hiding
place under the bed, with a Batman comic in his hand.  He dreamt that
he was Robin, tied up in a saw-mill, with the blade edging ever closer
to his green speedos...

Rob's reverie was interrupted by Paul, covered in slime, eagerly shaking
the older boy awake.

"I've done it! I've found it! Quick! This way! Oh, and watch out for
the water..and the spiders!"

Rob grinned and shook his head as he marveled at the plucky smaller boy
shooting back into the tunnel. Rob was slower, but the urgency of the
situation, and the nine-year old's uninhibited excitement, spurred him
on. Paul hadn't been joking about the spiders. The spindly six inch wide
brutes scuttled over the boys' bodies, scratching and biting hungrily as
they went. Their sodden webs mixed with the slime that coated the boys'
hair. They pushed on, until Rob bumped Paul's feet.

"It's about twenty feet of water here...no air" Paul explained. "Take
a deep breath, Rob!"

Paul slid through the aquatic blackness confidently, although the first
time it had been a swim of pure faith for him. Rob struggled forward
through the cold wet nightmare, submerged, compelled to go forward by the
merciless stone enclosing him.  His young chest tightened rapidly with
the extreme effort of propulsion.  Rob thought a giant was squeezing
his chest. The pounding in his head intensified, and before long he
felt himself slipping away. A sudden pain took over as Paul grabbed his
thick mop of brown hair and pulled him forward. Rob tasted oxygen again,
and was quickly sated.

The tunnel had widened, and they crawled onward, bruised, scratched,
bumped and banged, but thinking only of Peter. Finally, the wriggling pair
of boyish feet dimly visible in front of Rob stopped. They had arrived.

"OK Rob, we're here...it comes out under a bench by the pool. I can just
see him up there...I think he's passed out!"

"Are you OK Paul?"

"Yeah, don't worry about me any more". The boy's voice no longer sounded
thin or nervous. He seemed to have a new sense of purpose, and behaved
differently from the boy from the frightened child curled up in the cage
that morning.

"Good...you're doing really well, Paul. Now, you're good at climbing,
right? Push the grill out, and see if you can find a way of climbing
down the chain to the top of the cage".

Both boys slid silently into the enormous chamber, like eels into
a midnight pool. Reaching the chain would take all Paul's strength.
Rob gave him the penknife, showing him which blade would cut the ropes,
and which utensil might pick the lock. Then Paul was away, bounding up
the steps to one of the high dive boards, which just touched the thick
chain that led to a huge pulley in the ceiling, and then down to the
cage. Paul became a monkey, shinning up the chain to the distant ceiling
in seconds, oblivious to his own safety. Then he clambered down to the
cage, and crouched on top of it, still looking more a small ape than a
boy. Rob stood below in awe of his young friend.

"Yeah!" hissed Paul "He's out cold!"

"Cut him loose, but be careful where you cut!" came the whispered reply.
Paul looked at his brother's body in the dim light, and his young heart
filled with an unfamiliar anger. He would avenge his brother's torment.
With the utmost care, he released Peter's balls from the cruel noose,
then carefully swung to the side of the cage, clinging like a small
spider monkey, and freed his brother's hands and feet.

The pale body in the cage plopped to one side of the cage and stirred
slightly.  The nipple clamps forced him to sit.

"Peter! Wake up!" his brother pleaded. The trapped youngster started
moving, dazed at first.  He rubbed his wrists and ankles, and inspected
his bruised genitals almost abstractly.

"Get the clamps off, Peter...the clamps!"

Peter looked at the nipple clamps as if they had just appeared.  He did
as he was told, like an automaton, casting them to the floor of the trap.

"I'm going to unlock the cage!" Paul whispered confidently, resuming
his Tarzan impersonation to reach the lock.  He would have made a fine
addition to Fagin's gang, as the padlock yielded within a couple of
minutes.  "He's still on another planet!" Paul hissed down to Rob. "I
can't wake him up properly!"

Rob considered for a moment, "We'll have to risk it", the ten year old
whispered back, "get the cage swinging!"

The monkey-boy obeyed his instructions, vaulting back to the roof of
the cage, and jolting it wildly with all the weight of his young body.
Eventually the cage was swinging crazily backwards and forwards. Paul
clung to his lofty perch as the terrifying momentum grew. Then, after a
time, the inevitable happened. Peter fell out of the cage and into the
pool.  The splash into the cold pool awoke Peter fully in an instant,
and he looked around bewildered.  Rob dived in and intercepted him,
grabbing his friend round the chin, and expeditiously towing him back
to the edge of the pool.  (Rob had all the lifesaving badges for which a
boy of ten could qualify, and he'd greatly enjoyed the tuition, playing
around with ropes, retrieving underwater objects, and rescuing partially
clothed boys of his own age from drowning.) Paul jumped into the water
too, and the two boys hauled Peter out onto the flagstones.

"Are you OK?" the two rescuers asked urgently.

They needn't have worried. Peter vacant look gave way to a grin.
"Of course...but only because I knew I could rely on you two guys to
get me out...how long was I up there?"

"I don't know", replied Rob, "it's hard to tell with no watches...a few
hours, I guess."

"Wow!" said Peter, sitting up and rubbing his sore nipples, "a personal
best!"

"You mean you've done stuff like this before?"

"Yeah, of course...Paul and I started getting into it at cub camp,
and we're quite good at it now!"

Rob's processed the information. He had thought he was the only little
boy in the whole world who was interested in testing his body to extremes
behind closed doors.

"So - er - did you want us to get you down?"

"You bet! Once your balls turn black, you've had it!"

"OK! Well..." Rob's wanted to pursue the subject, but the sound of
approaching voices interrupted.

Abruptly, Lord Wolf stood before him, looking splendid his purple speedos,
adorned with the coveted trident crest.

The boys braced for the worst - sharing a vision of all three forced
into tiny cages, side by side, in crab positions, with their balls tied
to the tops of the cages, and their nipples clamped, hanging above the
water all day and all night.

Their trepidation gave way to surprise when Lord Wolf smiled warmly. He
was apparently pleased with the boys.

"Boys" he boomed, "you have done well. I knew you would not leave
your team mate to perish, even though you would have to endure danger
and hardship to rescue him, and even though you had to go against the
rules". He detected their astonishment. "I have no use for mindlessly
obedient slaves in my Daredevil squad. I want boys with initiative,
courage, and spirit - boys who can lead and do what needs to be done.
You have proved yourselves well. You, Paul were a revelation. You are no
longer a whimpering little cur! You have all successfully accomplished a
task which has proved the undoing of many boys, who failed to understand
the imaginative nature of my curriculum. Now return to your cells,
so that you're ready for training tomorrow!"

Bursting with pride, the three pre-teens scampered off, towards a couple
of tormentors who would show them the more congenial route to their
cells. Then Rob remembered his need to tell the aristocrat about the
evil doctor, and ran back. When the other boys were well out of sight,
he frantically explained the situation to his master, sparing no detail
of the terrible indignities he had suffered during his so-called treatment
sessions at the end of each day. Wolf listened with mounting indignation,
and spat angrily when he learned that Jamboree had rewired some of the
cameras to deceive him. He'd plainly used a similar tactic to ensure
that he could give Rob the toughest whipping of his life, just a few
hours earlier.

"Leave this matter with me, boy" growled the aristocrat grimly, "
I will devise a punishment suitable for the doctor, if all that you
say is true. I will attend to these allegations at first light tomorrow
morning. It is too late to start launching an enquiry tonight."  He strode
off, ordering another tormentor to lead Rob back to his cell.  But as
the youngster left, he called out after the boy, "I have high hopes of
you, Rob." The boy's heart leapt with pride when he heard the aristocrat
using his name for the first time since he's arrived. "But", the grim
lord added, "don't think any of this will soften tomorrow's ordeals".

"You bet!" grinned the boy, Rob slept well at last, and his dreams that
night were terrific, for a while. Suddenly he was rudely awakened by a
hand on his shoulder.

Rob froze as he heard the voice he dreaded more than any other whisper
right into his ear. "I've warned you before about boys who tell tales!"
Dr. Jamboree grabbed the boy cruelly, and jabbed a needle into Rob's arm.
His world disappeared in a heavy, fuzzy blur. The doctor slung the boy's
smooth, freshly-tied body over his shoulder, and carried him towards a
door marked "Private. No Entry Under Any Circumstances".  He pushed his
way through, and the portal closed with a sickening thud, that had an
air of awful finality about it.