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o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o
o  	The 'Bookshelf collection' offers a very wide variety of  o
o  stories. They have been submitted by people from all over the  o
o  world.  Also from alt.sex.stories (Newsgroups).   There is no  o
o  particular  order  other than offering them to you in  alpha-  o
o  betical directories.                                           o
o  	I don’t believe in categorizing things. "I don’t want to  o
o  be typed therefore I don’t type things myself."  I think it’s  o
o  a lot more fun to browse around and find  'little'  surprises  o
o  that you might not have even thought of looking for.           o
o   	Lest we forget!!!   This story was produced as adult en-  o
o tertainment and should not be read by minors.   Kristen         o
o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o

Fantasy Island (fm+, ped, nc)
by KinderGentler (KinderGentler@hotmail.com)
(c) Apr 1998

**

Chelsea has just turned twelve, just entering that fascinating time called 
puberty. She is as yet a bit shy with boys, but increasingly interested 
nevertheless. She is tallish for her age, slender, firm and muscular in a 
decidedly feminine way, and fair-skinned. She often ties back her 
shoulder-length blonde hair into a ponytail like she has seen in those 
beach-blanket movies. Her startlingly blue eyes float in a sea of freckles
atop a pug nose. Everyone considers her unusually pretty.

This summer Chelsea and her family are taking their summer vacation at a resort 
on a lake in the mountains. There is a wooded island in the center of the lake. 
>From the resort, the island looks totally uninhabited. The island is variously 
called Fantasy Island and Terror Island. Many evenings around the campfire, 
Chelsea’s new friends tell stories about the island. One says that it’s full of 
snakes and vermin. Another says it’s full of wolves and wild animals. Still 
another says it’s inhabited by a band of wild Indians. 

Chelsea herself is not inclined to believe any of their stories. She thinks the 
stories were made up by someone just to keep people off the island. Chelsea’s 
new friends dare her to spend the night alone on the island. At first she 
resists, but in the end, wanting to fit in, she agrees.

She arranges to have her family believe she is spending the night with a 
friend. In the late afternoon, she takes a row boat across the lake to the 
island. The sky is clear. A light warm breeze is blowing across the water. 
Arriving on the distant shore, she beaches the boat and ties it down. 
After carrying her things ashore, she decides to look around the island. The 
island is covered with pine trees. Their fallen needles make a smooth natural 
carpet under the trees. The carpet is dotted with flowers here and there where 
the sunlight breaks through. A few bushes have sprouted from underneath the 
needles. Otherwise the ground is rather clear. She hears birds singing in the 
trees. She notices one bush with berries on it. They look a little like grapes 
or currants. The first one tastes pretty good, so she picks a handful more to 
munch on as she looks around. She vaguely wonders if they’re safe.

After exploring a bit more, she notices that the sun is going down. She selects 
a snug-looking spot to make camp. She has brought a sleeping bag and a blanket. 
The night air is so comfortable that she spreads the sleeping bag and blanket 
on the ground, planning to sleep on top of the stack. As darkness begins to 
surround her, she sees the full moon through the treetops. She takes off her 
shoes, and lies down on the camp bed. As she thinks about the stories of the 
island she has heard, she drifts off to sleep.

After a bit, she is awakened by a rustling in the bushes. About half-a-dozen 
boys surround her. Looking up, she notices that most are about the size of the 
boys in her junior high school. One, apparently the leader, is a bit older, 
maybe high school. They are nearly naked, wearing only loincloths to cover 
their private parts, and scary looking masks on their faces. The older one has 
a single feather stuck in the middle of the forehead of his mask.

She jumps up and tries to run. They chase her through the trees. No one says a 
word, but the boys make strange animal-like noises.

The four younger boys finally catch her. Two grab her arms, two her legs, 
dragging her to the ground. She squirms and struggles to get loose from their 
grip, but to no avail. Suddenly, the boys holding her ankles grab the legs of 
her shorts and give a sharp tug. Off come her shorts. The boys release her and 
run into the woods.

Relieved, she begins to walk back in the direction she thinks will take her 
back to her camp. She’s not sure what’s going on, but she is glad she brought 
an extra change of clothes. 

Suddenly, out of the shadows, the boys appear again. She runs; they chase. 
After a few dozen yards, they catch her again. And again, there’s one boy to 
each arm and leg. Once again, they drag her to the ground. The boys holding her 
arms grope down towards her waist. Suddenly they grab her shirt, release her 
arms, and pull the shirt over her head. The other boys release her legs, and 
they all run back into the woods.

Now this leaves Chelsea rather bare. She hadn’t worn a bra, since her breasts 
had just begun to develop, and she liked them to show a little. Besides, bras 
are so uncomfortable, and unnecessary anyway at her stage of development. So 
all she has left is her pretty pink lacy panties. Again she heads for camp, 
extra thankful for the change of clothes she had brought, just in case. Of 
course, not in case of this!

Then, it happens. The boys show up again. She runs, harder and faster than 
ever. But they chase with equal vigor. Even if she is faster, though, there are 
more of them, and she figures she’ll probably be caught.

And they catch her. Same routine. One per arm and leg. She is terribly 
embarrassed. Nearly everything is showing. It’s dark, but not that dark, and 
the moon is full, sending shafts of light through the trees. The leg-boys grope 
for her panties. She struggles, but their determination prevails. Off they 
come, those pretty pink lacy panties. They stare; she blushes. After what to 
her seems like an eternity, but what to the boys is probably just an instant, 
they release her again, and run off into the darkness. Off she runs in the 
opposite direction, stark naked.

Now she’s a bit scared. Naked, in a forest, on an island. How do you explain 
that? Besides, she’s never been naked before, except in the shower. And she’d 
never been seen naked by anyone except the girls in gym class at school. 
Certainly no boy has ever seen her in this condition!
Then too, it is a bit exciting. If she weren’t so scared and embarrassed, she 
might even enjoy this experience. The excitement might have even made her wet 
her pants. That is, if she had had any on.

So she wanders on, hoping to find her camp. After a while, she stumbles into a 
tree-less clearing. It’s quiet and calm. The moon is high, full and bright, 
it’s almost like daylight, the air is warm. The fear has begun to wear off, and 
she’s gotten more or less used to her clothes-less state, so it’s beginning to 
feel kinda neat, as she would have put it.

Looking around, she sees no one, nor anything that might indicate imminent 
danger. So she decides to make the best of it. Why not dance a little in the 
moonlight? Run and play. How often would she get this kind of chance, anyway? 
So she dances, runs, jumps, flip-flops, practices her cheerleading, gymnastics, 
and jazz-dance.

Since she’s that kind of an athlete, she is in superb shape. She is tall for 
her age, slender and shapely, without an ounce of fat anywhere. Her flawless 
skin glows in the moonlight. When she stands still, she looks like a marble 
statue of a young goddess. When she moves, she resembles a cross between an 
angel and a forest nymph.

Cavorting in the moonlight, naked as a jaybird, gives her a sense of freedom 
that quite exhilarates her. She would have never thought of doing this herself. 
But finding herself in the situation, she quite enjoys it. It escapes her mind 
to think that the boys might be watching. Although by now, even if she had 
thought of it, she might have even decided to give them a show. 

And quite a show it would have been. Her supple body moves as gracefully as a 
gazelle, as lightly as a silk handkerchief in the air, as sensually as Venus 
herself. She begins to dance, first remembering the ballet she had learned as a 
little girl. She tries the movements she has seen on television and in the 
movies, swinging her hips and shoulders. She gently touches herself, outlining 
her figure with her fingertips. She imitates poses she has seen in the 
paintings in museums and in art photograph albums. She discovers that she 
enjoys feeling that she is beautiful, her body is beautiful, her nakedness is 
beautiful. She wonders why she had never noticed before.

Suddenly, without warning, the boys burst into the clearing. She realizes that 
she has had an audience. She panics and runs. They chase her. Soon she’s 
surrounded, and they catch her. The boys touch her naked body all over, groping 
clumsily, particularly at her breasts, buttocks and pubic area. After an 
eternity of a few moments the leader claps his hands and the boys grow still.
Forcing her to the center of the clearing, they pull her to the ground. They 
slip soft ropes around each wrist and ankle. Then she hears the sound of 
hammering against metal. She strains to see that they are driving stakes into 
the ground, and fastening the ropes to the stakes. Then the boys disappear into 
the woods, leaving her bound hand and foot, in an X-like position, 
spread-eagle, naked, facing the sky.

In the moonlight, she can see some of herself as she raises up her head. She 
had noted recently in the shower that each of her budding breasts is less than 
a handful. And her hands are still small themselves. Small thought they may be, 
they are firm and nicely shaped. Her fair skin is even more fair under her 
clothes, and the moonlight lightens her skin further, so that her breasts 
resemble scoops of vanilla ice cream with a tiny almond on top of each.

Her hips have started to widen a little, complementing her athletic body with 
the beginnings of a classically womanly figure. Her torso is well defined, like 
a Greek statue. She could have been the model for Venus de Milo. Her skin is 
flawless, except for an occasional freckle to add character.

Her central mound  is statuesque, pronounced but not protuberant, lean and 
delicately cleft, with the central fold just peeking out. No pubic hair has 
developed yet, as if not to obscure such a perfect sight. Unlike many of her 
friends, she has not had her first period.

She is intensely aware that her genitals are exposed in her current state. 
Facing the moon as they are, she is thankful it’s nighttime. That way, she’ll 
only get a moontan down there, rather than a sunburn.

The bindings are secure but not particularly uncomfortable. She struggles at 
first, then realizes that the bindings are getting tighter as she struggles. So 
she relaxes.

She feels profoundly alone and vulnerable. There is little sound, except for 
the usual sounds of nature at night. She wonders what’s next; whether this is 
part of the dare. It certainly fits the name Terror Island. She contemplates 
her nakedness, the touching, the feeling. Is it good, is it bad, is it both? Ah 
yes, Fantasy Island. But whose fantasy? Suddenly tired, her mind overloaded 
with feelings and thoughts, she drifts off to sleep again.

She is awakened by a touch on her shoulder, near her neck. Opening her eyes, 
she sees no one. She reasons it must be an animal of some sort. She stays 
still. Whatever it is slithers over her shoulder and onto her chest. Now she 
can see that it is a snake. Fear keeps her still and quiet. The snake slowly 
moves onto her breasts, then stops there. The motion tickles. She notices that 
the snake is not slimy, as she would have expected, but cool and smooth. It 
doesn’t exactly feel bad on her breasts, but there is still fear. Then she 
admits that it feels pretty good, and the feelings are intensified by the 
excitement.

The snake moves, slithering down her torso, across her belly button. It stops 
with its head on the crest of her pubic bone, just above her most private part. 
As he moves his head from side to side (she assumes by now it must be a boy 
snake), in the midst of fear she also feels stimulated. It’s a little like the 
feelings she has when she washes that part  in the shower. But since she’s not 
doing it herself, it feels different. A little more intense, a little more 
sensual. 

The snake slithers on, down her private parts, as though he knew exactly where 
the best parts were. The feelings are strong, and really good. She hopes for 
more. But as the end of his tail loses contact with her body, she is almost 
sorry he’s gone. He did give her some really good feelings. But she’s very glad 
he didn’t bite. Savoring the feelings, she drifts off to sleep again.

She is awakened again, this time by sound. As she opens her eyes, she sees the 
boys standing around her. They are making grunting, groaning, chanting noises. 
No words. They begin to move in a circle around her, slowly, to the rhythm of 
their strange music.

Their faces are still covered, but their loincloths are gone. It’s the first 
time she’s ever seen a boy’s private parts (except for her baby brother). She 
and her girl friends talk about them sometimes, especially in gym class. And 
she’s seen the pictures in sex-ed books at school. But those were just 
drawings. These are the real thing.

The boys are standing directly beside her. In the moonlight she can see the 
objects of interest clearly. These young boys are still bald also. Their 
instruments remind her of asparagus spears. Except these have a little mushroom 
head on them. She’s never liked asparagus before, but she might change her mind 
now. They’re still smallish, but larger than her baby brother! The little 
things aren’t ugly at all, like she and her friends used to say in gym class. 
The boys’ bodies are all slender and firm-looking. She wonders if their faces 
are as cute as their bodies.

She notices their privates are becoming enlarged, firm, and erect. The sex-ed 
book had explained that it happened when the male is sexually stimulated. The 
boys begin to rub their groins with their hands, just inside the things, around 
and behind the little marble-bags behind the erect parts. 

They begin to touch their privates, gently at first. Then with one hand, they 
take a firm hold of their privates, wrapping their fingers and thumb around the 
little things. They increase the tempo of the music, and stroke their privates 
in rhythm, as the tempo increases even more. She wonders if this is the hand 
job that she had heard about. Soon, each one loses the rhythm, breaking into a 
cacophony of sound and motion.

At the peak of activity, the boys kneel down so that their privates are just a 
few inches from her body. Suddenly, one of the privates seems to explode, 
squirting something out directly onto Chelsea’s breast. This substance is 
thicker than water, which is what she had expected. One by one, the others have 
the same experience. 

By the time all have finished, she is covered from breast to privates. They 
boys smear the sticky stuff all over her torso, up to her breasts, and down to 
her pubis, rubbing it in like suntan lotion. It’s weird, but it also feels good 
to be rubbed, especially in those places. And seeing their manhood, and feeling 
the liquid life that has been deposited on her body, just intensifies the 
feelings.

Then she notices the leader. His instrument is notably larger. The base of it 
is surrounded by small tufts of curly hair. He strokes his instrument, slowly 
and rhythmically, increasing the frequency as time passes. Soon he kneels also, 
and squirts. Both the quantity and force of his emission is much greater that 
that of the younger boys. After a moment, he stands, and the other boys stand 
with him. They turn and retreat into the woods.
She wishes they hadn’t left so soon. The rubbing and touching was really nice. 
Still fascinated by what she has just seen and felt, she wonders about the 
deposited substance. As she replays the scene in her mind, she drifts off to 
sleep yet again.

She is awakened again. This time by a cold, wet, rubbing on her breast. She 
opens her eyes to see the largest dog she’s ever seen. Or is it a wolf?
It seems to be licking the substance off of her that the boys had left. He (for 
she knows where to look and how to tell on a dog) is gentle. The stimulation to 
her breasts results in a tingling sensation that she has never experienced 
before. Like the boys’ touching, only much more so. He licks one breast, then 
the other. Then her stomach, then the breasts, then the belly button, then the 
breasts again. She notices that her nipples have gotten hard and erect. The 
feeling is exquisite.

He moves his body so that his legs are between her legs. He licks down her 
torso, moving slowly below the belly button. As he cautiously approaches her 
pubic mound, she begins to shiver and tremble. She remembers the feelings from 
the snake. He licks the summit of the mound, and she is electrified. Then he 
begins licking the private part. It’s like nothing she could have ever 
imagined. She shakes and trembles and shivers and groans. He continues, moving 
around, up and down, but always returning to the important part. She wants to 
cry out, but is afraid of scaring him away. Her feelings and movements 
increase. She gasps for breath. Her trembling and groaning increases. She moves 
along with his motions.

Finally, she can be quiet no longer. In a frenzy of feelings and trembling and 
shaking, she cries out in a great release of emotional and physical energy. To 
her dismay and frustration, he bolts and runs back into the woods. Soon she 
lies still, the sensations quickly subsiding. Exhilarated but exhausted, she 
falls asleep.

She awakens to find herself face down. She wonders how they ever accomplished 
that without wakening her. She wonders why she awakens now, after all the 
rearrangement is over. At least, she reasons, her back side will get equal 
moontan time.

Her back side is as perfect as her front side. Her skin is light and flawless. 
She has a spray of freckles on her shoulders. Near her waistline she has a pair 
of dimples.

Her bottom is a picture of perfection. Each cheek is round and full, but not 
overlarge. The skin is pale, like her breasts. The cleft enhances the 
resemblance to a Greek goddess.

As she contemplates her new situation, she feels a gentle touch on her 
shoulders. Though she can’t see directly, she can tell by the shadow that it is 
the older boy, the one with the feather. He is straddling her back, massaging 
her shoulders. As he moves back, massaging her back, she feels a third touch. 
After a bit she realizes it must be his third leg. As his hands reach the small 
of her back, his organ begins to touch her bottom. As his hands rub her back, 
his organ rubs the cleavage of her cheeks.

He moves back further. His organ loses contact with her bottom, and he begins 
to massage her cheeks with his hands. He seems to take particular interest in 
this area. His fingers explore her cheeks and the cleft. Occasionally he 
brushes against the opening, and she shivers. It begins to feel good, and her 
excitement begins to build.

He senses her excitement, and intensifies his work. He kisses her cheeks, then 
begins to lick the cleft. When he licks the opening, and presses his tongue 
into it, she squirms with delight.

He  raises his head, and returns to manual stimulation. He begins to 
concentrate on the opening. He presses firmly against it with his thumb as he  
massages her cheeks with the other hand. She begins to move in concert with his 
handiwork. She is surprised to find her excitement continuing to grow, even 
with no direct stimulation to any part of her body that she had previously 
associated with sex.

She notices that he is using two thumbs in her crack, with his fingers working 
her cheeks. Then she feels a third thumb. She figures it must be his tool. It’s 
firm and erect. He begins to press it aggressively against her cleavage. He 
directs it towards the opening. She feels him drop a bit of oil or lotion in 
the area. As he spreads her cheeks with her hands, he begins to press his tool 
into the opening. 

At first, her body naturally resists, but as she gets used to the idea, and 
becomes aroused by the feeling, the opening relaxes, and his tool slips inside. 
As soon as the head is fully inside, he stops for a moment. She flexes her 
muscles around the opening, and relishes the sensation. 

He resumes his pressure, pushing his tool deeper and deeper, till it’s all in. 
Then he begins to stroke, in and out, slowly at first. She moves to his rhythm. 
He continues, increasing his speed, and she follows, all the while trembling 
and shaking. 

Soon he squirts, and as he does, he stops at full insertion. She too stops, 
squeezing his tool as tight as she can. Slowly he withdraws. Kissing her 
bottom, he retreats into the woods.

As her feelings subside, she drifts off to sleep.

She awakens to an awareness of being touched. The four younger boys are 
kneeling by her, two on each side. Two are near her shoulders, two near her 
hips. The shoulder boys are massaging her breasts, two hands per breast. Their 
touch is gentle and firm. They explore the nipples with their fingers. She 
shivers with delight.

The hip boys are massaging her torso and thighs. Each boy has one hand between 
her belly button and her privates, and one hand between her privates and her 
knees. They tease her by moving their touch towards and then away from her 
privates, sometimes gently brushing against the pubis. The rub the abdomen area 
gently, the thighs more aggressively.

One of the breast boys leans over and licks her breast. She hadn’t noticed the 
mouth opening before. She trembles as the other follows suit. He explores the 
nipple and breast with his tongue. As he moves away, the other licks and then 
sucks the breast. She wonders if it feels this good when a baby nurses her 
mother!

One of the thigh boys kisses her belly button. The other kisses, licks and 
playfully chews on her thigh. Each alternates moving his oral attention towards 
her pubis, but always stops short. This stimulation is consuming her, and 
frustrating her at the same time.

As the four boys use their hands, fingers, lips, and tongues, she reaches a 
state of excitement she could never have imagined. She shivers and trembles and 
shakes and groans. She feels like she has stuck her finger in an electric 
socket. What could ever be better than this!

Soon the leader approaches. The boys back off a little. The leader kneels 
between her legs He gently touches her with the tips of his fingers, first on 
the breasts, then down the torso to the peak of her pubic mound.
Leaving the tips of his fingers on the mound, he uses his thumbs to gently 
separate the lips of her private parts, as though searching for something. As 
he locates it, and gently rubs and strokes it, her excitement increases at an 
incredible pace. 

He lowers his face to her body. He kisses her privates, then explores them with 
his tongue. His tongue is more aggressive than the other boys had been. Her 
mind is exploding; her groin is burning.

He moves his face away, and lowers his groin to hers. He teases and caresses 
her mound with the head of his tool. As she moans, he lowers his head towards 
her genitals, and rubs them with his tool. She feels her genitals moisten.
His rubbing becomes more firm and insistent. As he moves just below the central 
fold, he presses his tool into her body. The moist lips of her opening give way 
to his pressure. He stops after the head has entered. She trembles at the 
physical sensations, and at the thoughts of what’s happening to her. Soon the 
physical overwhelms the mental. Just his presence inside her gives her ecstatic 
shivers.

After a moment, he begins his pressure again. Gently but firmly, he enters 
deeper and deeper. After a short distance, he meets an internal obstruction. He 
stops again, for a moment. Then he makes a sharp thrust, breaking her virginal 
hymen. She cries out with pain. He caresses her face to comfort her. Then he 
begins to stroke, in and out, up and down, deeper and deeper. She quickly 
forgets the pain as she is flooded with passion.

He strokes for a few more moments, then stops and withdraws. He stands up, 
steps back and taps one of the younger boys on the shoulder.

The young boy takes the older boy’s place. He rubs his tool against her pubis 
until it is firm and erect. Then he enters her and begins to stroke as the 
older one had done. He strokes faster and faster until his ecstasy is complete, 
and his deposit is made. Then he withdraws, stands and trots into the woods.
The leader then selects another, who satisfies himself in the same manner.
Then the leader selects a third, who pleases himself inside her.

As the last of the younger boys approaches, to her surprise he doesn’t stop at 
her waist. He kneels with his knees in her armpits. She finds herself staring 
up, directly into his privates, just a few inches from her face. She’s too 
excited to wonder what he’s up to.

He slowly lowers himself until the head of his tool touches her nose. He 
caresses her nose, chin, and cheeks with his head. After she regains the 
courage to breathe, she finds out that he’s clean enough not to smell bad. 
After getting over the weirdness, she decides just to go with the flow, to see 
if she can enjoy what’s happening. And to her amazement, she finds it all quite 
exciting.

Then he puts the thing on her lips. She’s not sure what he wants. But 
remembering how good she feels when they kiss and lick her, she takes a chance. 
She purses her lips slightly, and kisses the head of  his tool. Then she 
remembers, she’s never even kissed a boy before, and now she’s kissed that! 
Well, it’s too late now.

Of course, he hasn’t complained either. So she kisses it again. She thinks he 
responds positively. She opens her lips a bit more, and sticks out her tongue 
just a little, just so it touches the head. Then she jerks it back in. It 
doesn’t taste too bad, just a little salty, she notices. So, she licks it 
again, a little more aggressively this time.

He lowers his hand to help guide his tool near her mouth. He rubs the head 
against her lips. As she relaxes them a bit, he seems to be pressing the head 
in between them. She realizes that he wants to put it into her mouth. She firms 
her lips, needing time to think. Then she decides to relax. After all she’s 
already been though, what’s one more new experience.

As she relaxes her lips again, he gently guides the head of his tool into her 
mouth. She grasps it with her lips and suckles it. He stops, as though to enjoy 
this for a bit. She continues to suck on it. He removes his hand, leaving her 
in control.

As she sucks harder, he slowly lowers himself so that his tools enters further 
into her mouth. It’s a weird feeling, but she kinda likes it. And apparently so 
does he. He lowers himself until the entire tool is in her mouth. She’s 
thankful he’s not too big! By opening her mouth wide, she can lick his balls. 
He groans and moves, which she assumes indicates approval.

He backs out a little, so she resumes her lip-lock. He begins to stroke up and 
down, like the other boys had done down at the other end. She sucks, and he 
strokes. Up and down. Faster and faster. He drops to all fours to give himself 
more freedom to move. He continues to stroke, obviously getting great pleasure. 
She also is beginning to be stimulated by this activity, though she’s not 
entirely sure why. 

Just then, he squirts his stuff in her mouth. She had forgotten about that! But 
he’s on top of her, and she has no choice but to take it. She swallows, even as 
she still sucks. Soon his ejaculations cease, his tool grows soft, and he 
slowly withdraws. After a moment he stands and trots off into the woods, as the 
other boys did earlier.

As he leaves, she licks her lips and tastes his work. It’s warm, slimy and 
salty, but not entirely disagreeable. She realizes she has just given her first 
blow job.

Just then, the leader boy returns to her sight. He stands between her legs, as 
before. He kneels, and begins to caress her pubic area and genitals. Her 
excitement quickly returns, fueled both by his actions and by the experiences 
of his and the others’ recent actions. Soon she is brought to a fever pitch. He 
senses her excitement, and moves to place his tool on her pubic mound. He rubs 
the mound with his tool. He slowly lowers the head of his tool towards her 
opening, which stands ready for his entry. As he enters, she begins to tremble 
and shake. He strokes, in and out, up and down, slowly at first, then faster 
and faster.

Finally, just as she reaches her climax, he reaches his. As his tools grows 
soft, he withdraws. She too relaxes, filled with an ecstasy that almost 
overwhelms her. In her contentment  and exhaustion, she drifts towards sleep.
As the boy moves away, he gently kisses her on the cheek.

As the sun rises, the birds sing, awakening her once more. She finds herself 
lying on her blanket, fully clothed, just as she had first gone to sleep. Had 
it all been a dream? She wasn’t sure. There were no rips in her clothes, no 
marks on her body. Not even rope burns on her wrists and ankles. How would she 
know? Only two hints remained.

Somewhere inside of her, (inside her body or her mind, she wasn’t sure), she 
feels strangely fulfilled and satisfied.

And lying beside her, on the blanket, is a feather. It looks like it might be 
from the face mask that the big boy in her dream was wearing. She remembers 
that some of her new friends from across the lake have similar looking 
feathers, some in their rooms, some in their hair.

Could it be?