Date: Thu, 30 Dec 2004 21:10:31 EST
From: Jonah
Subject: Island Paradise      Ch 4

      Carl lay still.  His eyes stayed closed.  The sun was warm,
      and from the sound of the surf the tide was in.  No matter -
      they were well out of reach of the tide.  He could hear the
      others talking quietly very close, but he kept his eyes
      closed.  If they thought he was still asleep they might just
      carry on.  He could feel someone - Rory most likely -
      fondling his penis.  Somebody was licking his toes.  They
      must have slept well.  At one point, he remembered, Simon had
      got up and broached one of the coconuts - heaven alone knew
      what with.  Probably had a Swiss army knife or something.
      Certainly Simon had gone round to make sure everybody got
      a few sips of the sweet coconut milk.  After that he could
      remember nothing.

Mmmm !  That felt good.  Still without opening his eyes, he reached out
and put an arm round the shoulders of whoever was wanking him.  It was
Rory, who immediately lay his head on Carl's chest.  A glance downward
showed Toby quietly licking his toes.  Still it felt good.  Simon and the
twins had disappeared from view - but he could hear them somewhere
nearby.  Beyond Toby the fire had been rekindled, and  - from the
snatches of conversation he could pick out - the other three boys were
working on coconuts.

Damn!  If the boys were up and working it was time he got up.
Playfully he pushed Rory aside.
"Up!" he said, suiting the action to the word. He turned to find Simon
standing behind him.
"Morning !", said Simon cheerfully, "Breakfast".   He produced a half
coconut shell which apeared to have been neatly sawn open.  The flesh
inside had been sliced up into chunks and cut loose from the shell.
"How'd you do that ?" asked Carl.
"Keep the shells", Simon responded, ignoring Carl's question, "we'll need
them to carry water in.  The lifejackets will hold more but it might not
taste nice out of them.  Do you think there is any fresh water?"
"Loads", replied Carl, "We found a big lagoon behind those trees.  I was
thinking some of us could go for a swim this morning.  Someone would have
to stay with Toby, and to look after the fire, but the swimming party
could bring water and firewood back."

Simon considered this.
"I need to talk to you." he said, "If the twins go with Rory, they can
swim; and if they take the lifejackets and coconut shells they can bring
water back.  I'd better get the firewood: I'm the only one with the saw."
"Saw ?" exclaimed Carl incredulously.
"In my survival kit".
"Survival kit ?"
"I wish you wouldn't keep repeating everything I say".
"Everything you say?" laughed Carl, hurriedly dodging the cuff  round the
ear which Simon aimed in his direction.  Both boys fell about laughing.
Simon explained that his Scout leader had made each boy in his troop
carry a tobacco tin containing a coiled wire saw, a length of nylon
fishing line, a wad of cotton wool, a couple of safety pins, a Swiss army
knife and ten pence for an emergency phone call.
" I want to see you make that phone call",said Carl, but it was clear
that he was impressed.

The twins were loaded up with lifejackets and coconut shells and
despached on their expedition.  Rory declared himself the leader and set
about strenuously supervising.

Carl watched them set off and then turned back to Simon.
"We need to talk", he said, simply.
They walked back to Toby and deliberately sat with their feet in the
boy's reach.  Toby didn't need telling twice.
"First of all",began Carl, "I'm not in uniform any more.  It doesn't
matter which of us is in charge here.  I may carry more clout because I'm
older, but you're better organised.  That counts for a lot.  Let's work
together on this.  You carry on and do what needs doing, but if you think
you've got problems getting the others to co-operate, sing out - I'll
soon get them to toe the line.  We've got to hold this group together
until we can get rescued.  We don't know how long that will be, but I
think we can do it.  Especially since you boys seem to have your own
special way of building morale."
"Looked like they were building your morale this morning", remarked
Simon, swivelling himself round so that he could share Carl's feet with
Toby.  Carl shrugged.  He was not sorry that Simon's beautiful feet were
now so close.
"What I was going to tell you", Simon continued.
Carl gave his full attention.  He had forgotten that Simon had asked for
an audience.
"What it was - see where these trees come close to the shore?"
Carl nodded.
"Well the other side of them theres a sort of rocky outcrop that sticks
out into the sea at high tide.  At low tide the beach there's all
shingly, and shellfish get washed up there.  Some wreckage from the plane
and two suitcases got washed up there too.  One of thems mine.  I don't
recognise the other but I didn't want the twins to see in case it was
their Mom's or something.  It could've set Stevie off again."
Carl had to agree.
"Tell you what.  When the others come back,  you go down there with
Rory.  He'll know if it's anything Stevie shouldn't see, and if it isn't
you can bring them both back here."
"OK!", said Simon, "I'd better go get some wood.  You be OK with Toby?"
"Yeah! Sure!" replied Carl, laying himself down.

He was just about to start masturbating himself as Toby licked the balls
of his feet, when it occurred to him that nobody had checked the
circulation in Toby's feet since his legs had been splinted together.  He
repositioned himself near the little boy's bare feet whilst carefully
ensuring that his own size tens stayed within Toby's reach.
Little, fair haired, eight year old Toby was small for his age.  His feet
still had the triangular outline of a childs feet.  His short toes arched
upwards slightly before their downward curve, making the balls of his
feet seem unusually deep.  His soles were soft, with much wrinkling in
the arches.  There was still plenty of colour in those cute soles, so the
bandaging had not interrupted his circulation.  He lay down next to the
lovely little feet.  He would not touch them for fear of hurting Toby.
He began to masturbate, but not for long.

There was a crashing through the undergrowth.  Simon had been running.
Running too fast.  His anguished cries were something that he could not
manage at the same time as breathing.  He tried to call Carl's name, but
an urgent wheezing was the best that he could manage.  Carl was on his
feet.  Had taken hold of Simon.
"What?  What is it?"

Simon could not have answered if he had the breath to do so.  The look of
terror on his face was all the stimulus Carl needed.
"Stay with Toby!" he ordered as he began to run in the direction from
which Simon had come.

He crashed through the trees.  The undergrowth tore at his naked flesh -
tore unnoticed.  He broke out of the trees and found himself on a shingle
beach.  In front of him was a rocky outcrop.  At the foot of it, among
the seashells lay the two suitcases Simon had mentioned; and something
else.
Something bloated and misshapen.  Something wearing the remains of an
airline captain's uniform.  Something dead.