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K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N
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WARNING!
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Fantasy Island
by Kinder Gentler (kindergentler@hotmail.com)
***
A dream of first times and openings that are genital
and other-earthly, written almost as if it were a
child's fairytale. (mf-youths, 1st, gb, ped, reluc,
fantasy)
***
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
kind of 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 moon tan 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 moon tan 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 kind of 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?
END
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The author does not condone child abuse, this story is
meant as an erotic fantasy not real life. Anyone acting
out such scenarios in "real life" can look forward to
many unproductive years getting it up the butt by a
fellow convict in their local prison.
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Kristen's collection - Directory 66