Warning: This story is unsuitable for minors and contains
explicit descriptions of sexual activity considered taboo (and
illegal) in most (if not all) jurisdictions. If such activity
offends you, please DO NOT read any further. I do not condone any
illegal activity and stress that this work is fiction, fantasy,
and in no way meant to reflect reality. Sexual abuse of minors is
a very serious issue and I encourage anyone tempted to engage in
such behavior to seek help immediately.

Title: Ecosystem (sci-fi, time travel, b, bb, tentacles, age
regression) 
Date of Latest Update to This Story: 12/20/16

Dear Reader: Thank you for taking the time to read my work. If
you wish to drop me a line, feel free. My email address is
(CreepingDawn@protonmail.com) and I look forward to hearing from
you. Additionally, proofreading is not one of my better skills so
if you find errors you believe impact the story's readability,
please let me know. Offers to proofread will be welcomed with
open arms.

Without further adieu...

......................................................
   A great hum filled the laboratory as the poleron-inversion
matrix restructured the vast amount of energy required to drag
the ARX300 out of subspace and into the normal flow of
space-time. With a resounding CRACK, a temporal incursion was
stabilized and the ARX300 floated gracefully from within the
energy vortex, its smooth spherical body incandescent in the dim
lighting. The probe hovered in mid-air for a few moments, its
final directive - to come home safely - fulfilled, and it's
artificial intelligence awaiting new orders. The temporal
incursion subsided silently behind it; an ignoble ending to what
was a fruitful adventure spanning centuries.

The ARX300 was the most advanced probe available, its value
incalculable when studying the past. Invisible due to its
polymorphic membrane, the probes anti-gravity inductor coils
allowed it to fly rapidly through the air or hover in one place
indefinitely. This gave the probe complete freedom to make its
observations from any angle the AI deemed necessary without
risking exposure. Installed with a vast reference library, the
ARX300 would be able to place whatever it was observing within
the correct historical context so as to allow the data to be
fully understandable by the AI and for the AI to make suitable
decisions as to what to observe. What made the ARX300 so much
more valuable than its predecessors, however, was the fact that
it included the recently developed BNS, or Biosynthetic Neuron
Scanner, which gave the ARX300 the ability to pick up the
thoughts of it's subjects through passive scans of their neural
activity. In essence, the ARX300 could "hear" it's subject's
mental activities - a valuable tool indeed. The other important
advancement of the ARX300 was the inclusion of the NARRATOR, or
Narrating Ace Responsible for Revealing Actors, Tension, Order,
and Roadmap, a powerful program that allowed the data to be
understood in terms of an unfolding story as opposed to a series
of disjointed images.

A man, dressed in a long white coat, powered down the network of
machines before casually approaching the ARX300 and cupping the
cantaloupe sized device in his hands. From his perspective, the
machine had only been gone for thirty-seven minutes; such was the
nature of time travel. Carrying the probe to a nearby computer
terminal, he slid the sphere into a specially designed alcove
that immediately locked the ARX300 into place and began the long
and arduous process of downloading the entire stored memory from
its bio-mimetic neural processors. The massive super computer
would later sort the data as best it could, looking for common
variables and elements while running a variety of cleanup
algorithms to try and make sense of corrupted data. Though the
technology was incredibly advanced, using probes like the ARX300
to record the past was always difficult; the AIs adjusted poorly
to the temporal-harmonics brought on by the incursions and ended
up storing the data in odd - though sometimes unique - ways.

The man didn't care to wait for the download to be completed.
This project had been his life's work; his obsession. Making a
few notations on a pad nearby, the man picked up the output cable
from the super computer and, without hesitation, plugged it into
the input jack just below his right ear - tethering his mind to
the technology around him. Though he knew that the data would
flow into his mind in a jumbled fashion, he needed to do this
now. To see. To know. As the program began to respond, the man's
senses dissolved and he became one with the computer; one with
the ARX300; one with history; one with the story.

FLASH

...as the great sailing ship cut through the deep blue water of
the Atlantic, its main sail billowing in the wind as it sped
across the sea. The flag flown identified her as slave ship; one
of many traveling between the sugar plantations on the islands
and the American colonies up north. Men hurried to and fro, their
tasks seemingly important. The sun shown brightly as the heat
beat down upon them and...

FLASH

...barely large enough for man and teenage boy to cast their
nets. The two occupants of the small boat worked in tandem,
efficient and careful. Clearly, these two were father and son.
The water of the South China Sea sparkled green as the sun began
to dip low, the day almost over and the...

FLASH

...raiding party. Huddled in the middle of the longboat was a
group of blond youths, looking anxious to land. This was the
first time any of them would see battle and manhood would be
theirs if they survived the night; survived their first Viking
raid. One older brute was describing the women of Wessex in a
crude manner while another was singing an old hymn to Freyr.
Pretty soon...

FLASH

...dock. The massive cruise ship was pointing north, towards
Alaska, as it slowly disembarked from Seattle. The three thousand
passengers lined the rails, cheering in obvious excitement. From
the banners, it appeared that this was the cruise lines' maiden
launch and the ship, The Royal Maria, was brand new. Thus, the
party was...

FLASH

...miserable. Indeed, with the Mediterranean waters so choppy,
those on deck looked decidedly ill. Below, two teenage boys
continued to vomit out the portholes, their clothing once-fine
Roman garb but now somewhat shabby. They looked like brothers,
with their...

FLASH

...shimmied up the mast, yelling in rough English to the men
below. The boy was a deep brown, the only Indian visible on board
the merchant vessel. The men seemingly ignored the boys antics,
with one remarking to another that he would be glad to get back
to London so they could find a real cabin boy - not some little
kuthi off the Calcutta streets...

FLASH

...slaves were getting restless. If they didn't get to South
Carolina soon, the crew would need to go to half rations. Still,
the captain thought to himself as he poured another glass of rum,
the lamp illuminating his small stateroom and his son sleeping in
the corner, a few more of these runs and he would retire a
wealthy man. Looking out the small port window, he licked his
lips. There was a dark shape out there on the water, it's
seemingly...

FLASH

...King Wu of Zhou, the father explained patiently to his son,
needed all the men to gather as much fish as possible. They were
the lifeblood of China and every man must do his part. The boy
listened carefully, his mind focused on both his fathers' words
and the odd shape in the distance. It seemed like some sort of
island was...
   FLASH

...the Viking raiders stood in their boat, quietly gazing in the
distance. A land mass had appeared in the fog and, from the
reaction of the men, this was very unexpected. The captain, an
old grizzled looking warrior, began consulting with his crew as
to their location. Maybe, he said, they had been blown of course
by the...

FLASH

...nothing seemed to dampen the party atmosphere. Though the
problem with the engine had the crew somewhat concerned,
especially this close to the Alaskan coast, the passengers seemed
to really be enjoying themselves. Indeed, the real emergency was
that the orange juice was running out and a dearth of mimosas
would be much more horrifying than the odd looking island out
across the...
   FLASH

...storm had passed. The two teenage boys made their way onto
deck with the crew, all eyes focused on the thing in the
distance. Men began to mumble. An island? Here? As the boat
drifted closer, the island became more and more apparent to those
on the ship. It seemed...

FLASH

...hadn't been any wind for two days and that damn island seemed
to get closer and closer. Many of the men glanced eastward,
towards India, and wondered if it was to late to turn around.
Surely, this island that they drifted nearer to was bad luck.
Maybe the Company would...

FLASH

...large island was unique, strange, terrifying. Instead of sand
or grass, the ground appeared to be made of dark green vines,
twisting and turning over each other as they rose out of the sea.
Below the water, a massive root system extended in all directions
away from the island, like a large coral reef just below the
water. Above the ocean, an ecosystem like no other reached
towards the sky, large vines rising like trees and forming a
forest deep and impenetrable. Bright blues and reds and purples
and golds appeared everywhere, the foliage somehow brighter than
normal colors should be.

Like an alien world, the strange and awful island made the...

FLASH

...men aboard the colonial slave ship...

FLASH

...Chinese fisherman and his son...

FLASH

...Viking war party...

FLASH

...American tourists aboard the cruise ship...

FLASH

...Roman traders...

FLASH

...sailors for the British East India Company tremble and wonder
what sort of place they had discovered. This was, the men thought
with deep and bone chilling concern, something other. Sensing his
crews' mood, the Captain ordered the men to raise all-sail but,
with the wind gone, he privately wondered if it would do any
good. Still, the men began their work quickly in the hopes of
getting away from the island so near their vessel. In time...

FLASH

...reach the colony," the First Mate thought to himself
sluggishly. Despite being only a few miles from Charleston and
despite the Captains' orders an hour ago, the ship was nowhere
near ready. In fact, as the Mate glanced around somewhat
discombobulated, he became vaguely aware that the men had stopped
working. Indeed, every man on deck was looking East at the
strange island. "Maybe I should check on the cargo," he thought
in passing, thinking of the many African slaves chained up in
the...

FLASH

...odd colors. In fact, the more the man watched, the closer the
things under the water seemed to his small fishing boat. It was
like the water was the skin of the sea and the green and yellow
branches creeping towards him were the veins and arteries of some
great sea monster. Though his mind was muddled, the fisherman
knew that something very wrong was occurring - that he and his
fourteen-year-old son Song should try and head for shore. Perhaps
if he...

FLASH

...and none of them could seem to concentrate on what they were
seeing. Slowly, the bright green and yellow appendages snaked out
of the water and entered the longboat. The Vikings, warriors all,
stood still in their dreamlike stupor. Ever so slowly, the
root-like tendrils meandered to each man and pressed against him
- running across bare feet or legs or arms as if searching for
something. Before long, the tendrils had touched every man on
board and, seemingly content, the things began to slowly withdraw
back towards the ocean. But they were not alone. The six youths,
for whom this was to be their first raid, followed to the edge of
the vessel as if in a trance. There, gazing dazedly at the island
in the distance and the sea filled with green and yellow
tendrils, they began to disrobe, their weapons and their...

FLASH

...tee-shirts and board shorts and flip flops all fell
haphazardly to the deck. Now naked, the first few teens and
pre-teens who had approached the railing went over the side,
seemingly content to fall the great distance into the sea. There
were no splashes, however, as the tendrils continued to reach out
and catch the falling youngsters, holding them comfortably above
the water before they slowly began to carry the boys to the
mysterious island so near the vessel. Boys continued to stream
out from below decks, their faces blank as they approached the
side of the massive cruise ship, divested themselves of their
clothing, and dropped towards the water. In all and over the
course of nearly half and hour, sixty-seven boys, ages ten to
seventeen, abandoned the ship and were...

FLASH

...the two brothers were still in a mental fog, despite the
sea-breeze licking at their naked bodies as they were carried
towards the island, and neither the fourteen-year-old nor the
fifteen-year-old felt able to struggle against that fog. Instead,
their thoughts wandered hazily over their predicament. Their
father, who had been a well-respected merchant in Rome, had made
too many poor political decisions. Fearing that his sons would
become targets, he booked Ennius and Porcius passage onboard the
trade ship with the command that they seek out their cousins in
North Africa. It was that disastrous voyage the boys found
themselves on now, though each was slowly realizing that
something was amiss...

FLASH

...when fifteen-year-old Ajeet found himself standing on the bank
of the island, the ocean behind him and a dense odd looking
jungle before him. Nervous, the cabin boy ran his rough hands
across his sweaty chest as the fog began to lift. Where was he?
How did he get off the Company ship? Only a few weeks ago, Ajeet
had come to Calcutta from an outlying village in hopes of finding
work and, after getting an offer with the English sailing ship;
he had thought his days of traipsing through the jungle were
over. And yet, here he was - though this jungle looked remarkably
different from the jungle of his native India. Gathering his
courage, the teenager began to...

FLASH

...nine naked boys, all between the ages of eleven and seventeen,
stood staring at each other dumbly and wondering where they were
and how they got there. Eight of them were black as night, having
grown up in western Africa before a rival tribe had slaughtered
most of their community and sold them to the pale skinned
foreigners. The ninth boy, a timid thirteen-year-old European and
the son of a slave ships' captain, stood a short distance from
the others, torn between the desire not to be alone and the
knowledge that the slaves, or perhaps, more accurately, the
former slaves (as they no longer wore shackles), might use their
freedom to enact revenge against him for the actions of his
countrymen...

FLASH

...though he'd been on the island for nearly a day, having slept
close to the ocean the night before after trying unsuccessfully
to find his father, Song was still shocked at his surroundings.
The ground was a mass of soft green vines, obscuring any earth
beneath and forcing Song to walk carefully lest he trip.
Everywhere Song looked, the vines combined with each other to
form massive tree-like plants that rose high into the sky,
providing a great deal of shade under their large vine-boughs.
Colorful flowers were everywhere as well, and Song quickly
discovered that the large orange flowers, as big as his mothers
cooking pot at home, held either fresh water or a sort of sweet
soft blue fruit. Having become both hungry and thirsty in his
exploration of the island over the course of the morning and
afternoon, Song had gratefully eaten the easily accessible fruit
(which was delicious) and drank his fill of the sweet clean
water. Now, as the sun had begun to set, Song was lying
comfortably next to a vine-tree, his only complaint being that
the unseasonably warm weather coupled with the almost oppressive
humidity of the strange jungle island had made his
fourteen-year-old body slick with perspiration. Still, as his
hand found his erect member and he began to stroke himself...

FLASH

...past two days had been more than strange," Leifr, the oldest
at sixteen and nominal leader, thought to himself as he sat
listening to his five companions chat amongst themselves.
Suddenly, fifteen-year-old Vali got to his feet, spit on the
ground, and headed into the dense foliage; his thick manhood
swaying as he walked. Since the previous day, all six youths had
maintained constant erections and seeing each other in a state of
arousal, though humorous at first, had quickly lost its novelty.
What hadn't lost its novelty, however, was the fact that Finnr,
the youngest at barely fourteen, was still deeply embarrassed by
his erection and the other five boys had taken to teasing him
about it.

Soon, a rhythmic slap slap slap sounded faintly in the distance
and Leifr shared an exasperated look with his friend Snorri.
Though it was only the middle of the day, each boy, Leifr
included, had wandered off to please himself at some point that
morning. Finnr had even gone twice, though he swore that he only
relieved his bowels the second time. As the other boys began to
make light of Vali's obvious sexual activity, Leifr's stomach
began to rumble in an ominous way. Thinking it was time to
relieve himself, he casually stood up, stretched (in the hopes of
the others admiring him for his large endowment), and preceded to
leave their small camp as the other boys hooted and teased him at
the thought that Leifr was going to...

FLASH

...vines hanging low parted like a veil as the five teenagers
made their way towards the water's edge, still unnerved that
there was no sand and that the ground, which looked like a pile
of green pasta, simply ended when it reached the ocean. These
five teens, all seventeen, had taken charge of the other
sixty-two boys from the cruise ship four days ago and had tried
their best to maintain order. In terms of making sure everyone
had plenty to eat and drink, they were incredibly successful. In
terms of making sure everyone stayed calm and those youngsters
that were upset or worried were comforted, they also had a great
deal of success. Where their leadership faced it's greatest
challenges, however, was dealing with the changes that were
affecting every boy on the island.

At first, they had to deal with the fact that everybody was
naked. With most of the boys being American, the ingrained
cultural modesty had been a tough challenge to overcome -
especially with the fact that some of the boys were as young as
ten years old. Then, early on the second day, every boy had
become erect; adding a whole new level to the embarrassment and
almost derailing the previous day's work. As the day wore on,
many boys began to find their hormones were too much and
disappeared into the foliage in order to masturbate. With so many
boys, however, privacy was scarce. Day three led to a general
acceptance that privacy was not tenable and boys began to
masturbate openly in front of others, spurred on, no doubt, by
the fact that their hormones were demanding orgasmic release more
and more frequently. With some of the ten, eleven, and twelve
year olds having never masturbated before, this open sexual
display led to several older boy/younger boy discussions of the
birds and the bees with a focus on male self stimulation. Once
informed, all of the youngsters, now cognizant of how to satiate
their desires, quickly sought manual orgasm to the cheers and
congratulations of their older comrades.

Now that it was day four, the five teenage leaders were busy
comparing what they had observed. It seemed, they concluded, that
each boy, themselves included, was masturbating to climax about
once every half an hour or so out of simply necessity. Their
hormones, they groaned, were driving them crazy. Indeed, as they
stood next to the water discussing the issue, two of the boys
were actively fisting their throbbing erections. Thinking back,
the boys concluded that this rate had been just about what they
had observed at the end of the previous day. Hoping that the
frequency with which they needed to climax did not increase and,
they admitted honestly to each other, unable to do anything about
it if it did, they turned their attention to the next pressing
problem: the frequency at which each boy found himself having
near spontaneous loose bowel movements. Over the last...

FLASH

...a big bite from the soft fruit, Porcius smiled at his younger
brother's antics while the sweet juice dripped from his chin and
onto his reclining body. Ennius was attempting, again, to juggle
three of the fruits, though the fourteen-year-old was having
little success. Having been on the island for almost a week, the
brothers were trying to keep occupied and, for Ennius, that meant
returning to his long held belief that his coordination was much
greater than it actually was. Thus, the lithe teen, his sweaty
body glistening in the light while his taut member bounced up and
down, stood in the middle of the small clearing and tried over
and over to make the fruit fly in his pre-imagined pattern.

Porcius, lying in the shade of a nearby tree, finished his fruit
and tossed the core away. His hands, slick with the remnants of
the juicy meal, began to trail down his own sweaty body until
they found his rigid member; itself slick with pre-ejaculate and
sweat. Grasping the organ, Porcius let out a sigh and began to
stroke himself leisurely. Over the past few days, it had become
necessary for the boys to pleasure themselves near continuously;
his best guess was twice an hour or so. In fact, Ennius had only
just climaxed a few minutes earlier, giving him a reprieve to
practice his juggling. That is, Porcius noted as his fist rapidly
flew up and down on his straining erection, Ennius had a reprieve
until his brother made "the face."

"The face" was what he and Ennius had dubbed the sudden change of
facial expression when the overwhelming urge to defecate seized
one of them. Having started around the time they began having to
masturbate relatively frequently, the boys had discovered that
their bodies were producing an excessive amount of very loose
feces and that the urge to expel their fecal matter was becoming
more and more overpowering and sudden. In fact, when the urge
hit, there was no time to find an appropriate place nor seek the
privacy of the jungle. Now, as Porcius watched his brother
hurriedly squat down and begin to grunt as he expelled a torrent
of wet brown waste, the thought struck him that the frequency
with which these overwhelming urges to defecate occurred seemed
to be greater than the urge to climax. A moment later, as Ennius
grunted loudly only a few feet away, Porcius led out his own
snort while blast after blast of...

FLASH

...and so Ajeet's days became a blur of four events. Eat fruit.
Drink water. Masturbate. Defecate. Sometimes they would occur
separately, like when Ajeet would have a few minutes to lazily
dunk his head into the large flowers containing water and drink
until his thirst was quenched. Sometimes they occurred together,
with Ajeet masturbating to climax and expelling his seed at the
same moment his bowels violently expelled his diarrhea. Moreover,
his hunger and thirst became unquenchable, with Ajeet finding
himself wandering from flower to flower; eating or drinking it's
contents rapidly before hurrying off to his next meal. Strangely,
the flowers seemed to refill rapidly, with new fruit or new water
becoming available only minutes after Ajeet had visited.

It wasn't very long before Ajeet realized that his waste and his
semen rarely stayed on the ground for very long. Indeed, the boy
soon discovered that, after his seed or his excrement fell to the
earth, it seemed to seep into the mass of green vines;
disappearing rapidly as if it had never been. The Indian youth
gave this little thought, however, as he was more concerned with
eating, drinking, masturbating, and defecating. The only real
peace Ajeet found was when the sun went down - oddly enough, his
base needs disappeared with the light and nighttime was spent
resting, exploring, and washing himself.

In fact, the first thing Ajeet would do when the sun finally left
the sky was wade into the ocean and scrub himself all over. Then,
once refreshed with seawater, he would hunt down the flowers
filled with fresh water and use that to cleanse his body. And
Ajeet needed it, too! By the end of each afternoon, having eaten,
defecated, and masturbated many times throughout the course of
the day, the poor boy found himself a dirty mess. His jaw and
neck and chest were stained blue from the succulent fruit, sticky
and sweet where the juice dribbled upon him. The same was true
for his member, which was oftentimes frisked with his juice
stained hands. His pubic hair, normally coarse and curly, as well
as much of the hair on his legs and thighs, were matted down from
residual semen. Not having any materials with which to clean
himself after evacuating his bowels, the boy's backside was caked
with dried and drying feces. These nighttime baths were...

FLASH

...and Erevu smiled wickedly as Christopher, the white
thirteen-year-old son of the ship's captain, squirmed, moaned,
and ejaculated; Mahakne's black hand looking decidedly funny as
it masturbated the older white boy. Before coming to the island,
Mahakne and Erevu, both being eleven, had never before played
with their man parts. Now, nine days in, both had become experts
at stimulating the male organ. Christopher obviously thought so
as well, groaning as the last few drops of his seed were milked
from his member by a grinning Mahakne.

The boys of Nuchaktae had welcomed the white teenager into their
group, partly in fear of what might happen to them if the slave
ship came back and her captain discovered they had mistreated his
son and partly out of a sense communal responsibility - after
all, they were all alone on the island.  Though the white boy
spoke a different language, the boys of Nuchaktae had learned his
name and had been able to communicate some basic concepts to him.
For instance, Muhaka was in charge of the group - not
Christopher. The oldest boy instilled this in the younger teen
early on when, as the boys began to play with their man parts,
Muhaka forced Christopher to service him with his hand before
Muhaka returned the favor to the clearly uncomfortable white boy.
Now, as the boys were aroused all day and needed to spill there
seed regularly, it had become tradition, as it had been back in
Nuchaktae, for the boys to stroke each other so as to build the
bonds of friendship. While Christopher seemed uncomfortable with
this at first, now he, and all the village boys, were adapt at
inducing climax in each other with their hands.

Nearby, Muhaka gave a loud laugh while Oojiua sputtered and
groaned. Everyone turned to watch. Poor Oojiua was lying on his
back, with his fourteen-year-old legs sticking wildly in the air,
while Muhaka knelt beside him and masturbated Oojiua's teenage
member rapidly. The older boy seemed to find it incredibly funny
that Oojiua was both having an orgasm, as evidenced by the semen
spraying uncontrollably from his swollen penis, and defecating
powerfully, as evidenced by the spray of loose wet excrement
launched from his upturned and exposed anus. Erevu, Mahakne, and
Christopher looked at each other and immediately burst into
laughter, the sight too funny. Mahakne ceased laughing a moment
later, though, when he suddenly grunted and several loud splats
sounded behind him, his own sudden bowel movement causing him to
release Christopher's still swollen member and thrust his hands
onto the ground in a bracing motion. Christopher and Erevu
laughed even louder...

 FLASH

...brilliant dawn was only an hour past and already Song could
tell something was different. Indeed, while there were some
orange flowers providing water and fruit, many of them were
closed tight as if expecting a sudden chill or the onset of
winter. On the other hand, some of the large yellow flowers,
which had been closed since Song's arrival on the island
seventeen days earlier, were suddenly coming to life; their
centers filled with more fresh water and fruit - though the fruit
itself was bright red as opposed to the blue fruit found in the
orange flowers. As the morning progressed and Song ate and drank
from both flowers, he found that his need to defecate and
masturbate was gradually lessening.

Indeed, by the end of the next day, Song had actually lost his
erection and hadn't felt the need to evacuate his bowels for
several hours. Moreover, Song hadn't seen an orange flower open
all day, eating and drinking only from the now commonplace yellow
flowers. "Perhaps," Song wondered out loud as the sun dipped low
and he looked for a place to sleep, "it was the orange flowers
that were...

FLASH

...and so, despite the others teasing him about being the most
ready for sex, fifteen-year-old Vali was actually quite glad that
his urges were under control. It had been three days since the
orange flowers had closed and the need to masturbate and defecate
had slowly disappeared; the yellow flowers providing all the
sustenance he and his fellow Vikings needed to survive. With
their urges gone, the boys had taken to trying to escape the
island, though they were having little luck. There was no sign of
the longboat from shore - understandable as there wouldn't have
been enough supplies for their countrymen to stay put for so long
- and there were precious few resources on the island to use in
an escape plan. Overall, the boys were starting to think that
they were trapped.

Rolling over, Vali stretched. The night had passed uneventfully
and, as Vali's hand crept lower, he was pleased to discover that
the need to urinate had not given him a morning-erection. In
fact, it would be quite some time, he thought to himself, before
he wanted to deal with another erection. Thinking himself funny,
Vali was about to get up, as the light from the rising sun was
just now starting to seep through the trees, when Finnr, who was
sleeping right next to Vali, noticed that the older boy was
awake.

"Vali" whispered Finnr, the fourteen-year-old scooting closer.

"Umm?" Vali hummed back quietly before yawning.
   "Vali. Something is wrong." The other boy said softly.

"Wrong?" responded Vali, not quite concerned. "What do you mean?"

"Look at my genitals. Go on, look! Don't they look odd to you?"
the younger boy said, his tone one of concern.

Vali took a moment to gaze at the younger boy's hairless pubic
area, not seeing anything remarkable about the younger boy's
flaccid penis or testicles. "Um... Should they?" asked Vali,
unsure what the joke was.

"Yes. Where are all my pubes? When I went to bed last night, I
had pubes! Where are...

FLASH

...and I'm starting to think that the whole jerking off and
shitting everywhere thing was better than this." Michael
complained to the group as he casually ate one of the bright red
fruit. The other seventeen-year-olds agreed halfheartedly. As the
leaders of the cruise ship boys, the group had faced crisis after
crisis since coming to the island. The first crisis was making
sure everyone had enough food and water. The second crisis was
helping everyone understand sex and deal with the increased
frequency with which everyone was masturbating and defecating.
Now, the crisis was dealing with the very apparent reversal of
the aging process and the psychological impact it was having on
many of the boys. For the past three days, Michael and his fellow
leaders had listened to boy after boy cry as he explained that
his penis was getting smaller or his pubic hair was retreating.
Boys were growing shorter and their muscles, once teenage, were
becoming softer and more childlike. Many of they boys had
discovered that their voices were changing for the second time in
their lives, though this time the end result was a high soprano
that had the boys cringing when they spoke. Every boy on the
island was visibly frustrated just as he was visibly younger  -
causing a general cry of alarm and a need to be comforted by the
self-appointed leadership.

This "shoulder to cry on" was complicated by the fact that
Michael and the other leaders were growing younger as well -
their bodies now resembling barely pubescent fourteen-year-olds
despite the fact that all five of them had been very physically
mature seventeen-year-olds only a few days earlier. Thus, as time
wore on and their own worries began to occupy their thoughts,
their ability to comfort those around them was becoming
increasingly strained. "I guess we should be glad nobody is
turning into a baby, though," ventured Austin, glancing over at a
group of nine-year-old boys playing tag nearby and cringing when
he realized that all seven boys had been in their early teens
only a short time ago. Wondering if he was eventually going to
look like that, the boy cast his eyes downward and sighed.

"Any idea why everybody stops de-aging when they get like that,"
Michael said, nodding towards the group. None did. In fact,
though the original sixty-seven boys were between ten and
seventeen, now none seemed older than fourteen and, conversely,
none seemed younger than nine. It was as if the boys were
becoming younger up until the time they became biologically nine
or ten and then simply quit getting younger - stopping just
before puberty, Michael had privately hypothesized.

"And what's up with not being able to get off? I mean, when I...
looked like this the first time, I guess, I was whacking it all
the time. Now, I can't seem to...

FLASH

 ...and you don't feel anything?" asked Porcius, frustrated by
his brother's lack of response. His younger brother gave him a
sorrowful look and shrugged. Sighing, Porcius released his
brother's soft member and, scooting up so they were face to face,
laid his head against Ennius's shoulder and huffed loudly. Though
Porcius was a year older than Ennius, the boys could now easily
pass for twins - especially because their bodies were nearly
identical below the neckline. Indeed, in the past six days, the
brothers had watched in horror as they had grown younger and
younger, with Ennius's pubic hair disappearing two mornings ago
and Porcius's disappearing two nights ago. Now, the boys lay
cuddled next to each other, each wondering what new curse was
affecting them and hoping, as Porcius had pointed out an hour
earlier, that they seemed to be no longer growing younger.

When they had started to de-age, the brothers redoubled their
efforts to find an escape from the island. They had no luck.
Indeed, about the only discovery the boys made was three days ago
when Ennius, out of sight from his brother for a few minutes, had
decided to try and masturbate. Despite repeatedly tugging on his
member, though, he found, to his dismay, that he couldn't achieve
an erection. In fact, neither boy could after Ennius sheepishly
pointed this out to his brother. Since then, the boys had tried
several times to masturbate themselves and each other in the
hopes of reactivating their libidos. They were unsuccessful.
Reaching up above him, Porcius casually plucked a fruit from the
flower that was...

FLASH

...gasped Ajeet, his hand sliding casually over his pre-pubescent
member as he washed himself with some of the fresh water from the
now open red flowers. The previous day, all the yellow flowers,
like the orange ones before them, had closed and the once-closed
red flowers had opened gracefully, providing fresh water and rich
brown fruit to enjoy. But those thoughts were now far from
Ajeet's mind as he casually slid his wet hand over his member
again, squeaking a bit as his sensitive penis sent a thrill up
his spine. His feeling was back! It was back!

For the past week or so, Ajeet had tried repeatedly to stimulate
himself sexually, though no amount of playing with his soft
member produced any sexual results. "Of course," Ajeet thought to
himself, "it might be because I have the body of a child." Ajeet
was a bit shocked when he noticed in a pool of water that he
looked younger. Three days later, the boy shed several tears when
his last bit of pubic hair disappeared. But when he discovered
that he no longer could become aroused, that he could no longer
achieve any semblance of orgasm, the boy had screamed and cursed
the universe for hours. How dare it! How dare it not allow him to
play with himself!

But now he could! Dropping to the ground, Ajeet's fingers began
to dance over the head of his small boyhood, his body tingling as
he began to stiffen. Soon, Ajeet was licking his lips as his
foreskin slid up and down the hairless organ and he groaned in
victory. Yes! He was masturbating! Faster the boy moved, his hand
becoming a blur as the tingling feeling in his groin became more
and more persistent. It felt almost like he was building to an
orgasm, Ajeet thought distantly, but not quite the same.
Suddenly, a powerful pleasurable urge struck his body and Ajeet
groaned loudly, his hand still busy with its masturbatory task.
"Oh! Oh! Oh!" Ajeet chanted before he suddenly arched his back
and climaxed, his orgasm rushing through his body and causing him
to shake and shudder. For five, ten, fifteen seconds, the boy
seized as his member pulsed in ecstasy. Eventually, the feelings
began to recede and Ajeet, removing his hand, looked down at his
member in awe. He'd experienced many orgasms over the last few
years but this was something else. Something similar, but
something else.

As he tried to ponder the difference between this and his
previous orgasms, Ajeet's mind was struck with a thought. There
was no semen. His climax had been dry. Scrunching up his face at
the realization, Ajeet reached back between his legs and grasped
his still erect member, jumping slightly when the new lustful
sensations hit him. Now confused, the boy began to slowly
masturbate again and his eyes widened in shock. Instead of the
post-orgasm sensitivity that normally meant his masturbatory
session was over, his member now seemed ready for another climax.
Smiling, Ajeet began to pump his erection in earnest and, three
minutes later, was rewarded with another powerful dry climax that
had him rolling around on the ground in pleasure - the new
feelings so profound, that Ajeet failed to realize that the earth
itself was also shaking...

FLASH

...and that morning had provided the boys, who all looked about
the same age of nine-years-old, with the most wonderful gift: the
ability to become sexually aroused and, after a bit of
self-exploration, achieve orgasm. Now, the boys lay around in a
sweaty pile, talking good-naturedly while stroking themselves and
each other to climax after climax. Nine pre-pubescent penises,
eight black and one white, were hard as nails and throbbing
repeatedly as the boys discovered that they no longer suffered
from the need to rest after achieving orgasm. Indeed, several
even claimed that this seemed a boon - their first impressions of
growing younger as a curse now re-examined and re-interpreted as
a blessing. For indeed, argued Oojiua energetically as his body
shook through its fourth orgasm in half-an-hour, it was much more
fun to be trapped in the body of a nine-year-old with infinite
climactic potential than to be trapped in his previously
fourteen-year-old body and only be able to climax once before
needing a break.

Suddenly, the ground began to shake; its undulating motions
neither severe nor dangerous but nonetheless unexpected and
unique. The boys ceased their play immediately, releasing their
members and grasping the vined ground, riding out the shaking
until the ground lay motionless. For several minutes thereafter,
the boys idly speculated as to the nature of the quake and it
wasn't until Christopher nervously mentioned that the quake might
lead to the ocean rushing in should the island sink that the boys
stood up worriedly. The boys headed towards the beach and, over
the course of the next hour, stood gazing at the water and
questioning each other as to whether they believe the water
seemed higher or the ground lower. Neither seemed the case. With
a general sigh of relief, the boys began to trek back towards
their favorite clearing, their idle hands already reaching
towards their immature members.

Erevu, skipping ahead of the boys, was totally unprepared when he
tripped over the extended root of a large white flower, its large
peddles hidden behind several vine-trees while it's roots snaked
through the underbrush in a haphazard manner. Quickly scrambling
to his feet so as not to be laughed at, Erevu took a moment to
peak between the trees at this previously undiscovered flower,
it's body certainly much larger than any flower so far
discovered.  Opening his mouth to alert his friends, Erevu's
voice caught in his throat when the flower slid towards him
suddenly, it's body not planted firmly in the vine-covered soil
and instead supported by it's network of roots, which were now
acting like legs and propelling the large plant forward. Turning
to retreat, Erevu suddenly found that one of the white flower's
roots hand snaked around his ankle and, as he began to struggle,
the plant slid through the trees and...

FLASH

...minute he'd been staring at the large hole in the ground and
the large white flowers crawling out of it, the next he was flat
on his back looking up at the sky, a large pale flower pedal
underneath him like a bed. Song struggled for a moment, hoping to
break free from his confines, but the flower that now had hold of
him was keeping him immobile.

The flower was big; perhaps the size of a fully-grown panda bear.
It's pedals were pale white and large, their soft smooth surfaces
full and strong. The pedals came together in a center that was
invisible; so deep was the shadow, that Song, despite craning his
neck, couldn't see where the pedals met nor could he see the
beginning of the many filaments that grew from the dark hole that
made up the flower's dark center. The four filaments that held
him were thin but incredibly strong, their smooth fleshy skin
rubbing against his ankles and wrists as they kept him firmly on
his back, the white pedal underneath both comfortable and
terrifying. His legs were in the air, the filaments holding his
legs as a mother might hold her infant so as to clean it's
backside; though in Song's case, his legs were spread open and
both his anus and genitals were exposed and vulnerable. His
hands, meanwhile, were quickly drawn up toward the center of the
flower, exposing the boy's hairless armpits and forcing the boy
into a position where he could not use his arms to help him
escape. Not five seconds had past from the moment Song was
grabbed till the moment his head stopped spinning and he was
trapped.

Suddenly, the flower began to move through the jungle. Turning
his head to both sides and peering through the gaps of the flower
pedals, Song could see that the deep brown roots of the flower
were dexterously reaching out and, finding purchase, pulling the
flower along. It was, Song pondered briefly, as if the flower has
many legs that allowed it to be mobile. A sudden jolt of wetness
between his legs caused Song to snap his head forward and notice,
for the first time, a fifth filament had extended from the center
of the flower and now found itself perilously close to Song's
clenched anus - it's undulating motions, like a snake, causing
the boy to suddenly fear for his nether regions. The end of the
filament, as if to show the boy it meant no harm, suddenly opened
up slightly and a small weak stream of warm blue liquid, not
quite the consistency of water but a little too thin to be
thought of as a mucus, sprayed out; the warm goo hitting the
boy's hairless anus just as it must have a moment earlier.

Song frowned. The goo, which was now running between the cheeks
of his backside and onto the pedal (and presumably from their
onto the ground), caused his skin to tingle slightly, the feeling
an odd mix of itchiness, burning, and the strange feeling one
gets after a lightning storm. Suddenly, a noise above Song caused
him to look towards the base of the fifth filament and he watch
in curiosity, and then in horror, as the thin stalk suddenly
began to bulge outwards, the bulge traveling outward along the
stalk and closer to the mouth of the filament. It was almost as
if...

FLASH

...his pug nose in horror as Snorri watched the filament engorge
inch by inch, the thickening approaching the head of the filament
rapidly. Around him, Snorri could hear the other Viking boys
crying out in alarm as each struggled to get away from the
horrible plants, their shouts indicating that a filament was near
their own rear ends and had deposited a bit of the warm itchy
burning tingling goo on their unprotected anuses. Had Snorri been
fifteen again, he might have had the strength to pull away. But
at nine? He was helpless.

His eyes watching with frantic abandon, Snorri followed the
progress of the engorging filament until the tip began to swell
and the filament's head moved to within two inches of his tightly
clenched anus. In many ways, Snorri thought to himself for a
brief moment, it looked as if it were about to strike him. No
strike came, though, and for a moment, time seemed to stand
still. Then, in the distance, Snorri heard one of the other boys
yell wildly. A second voice joined the first. Then a third. Just
as Snorri was about to drop his guard, the filament's head
erupted in a thin but powerful stream of goo, the blue substance
focused directly at Snorri's pink anus and ejected with enough
force so as to flood past his clenched muscle and into his
rectum.

Snorri gasped. The goo was rushing into him with a great deal of
force and, despite his best efforts; no amount of clenching did
any good. The stream being emitted from the filament was too
strong; too focused. The boy shuddered as the warm liquid; with
it's slight mucus-like consistency, filled his rectum and began
to flood his colon. Moreover, the boy began to groan as the
pressurized jet of plant goo stimulated his anal ring in a unique
and not altogether unpleasant manner. And several times, his anus
flared open enough that the jet of goo shot directly into his
rectum and the boy jumped slightly as the blast of liquid
assaulted his prostate. Then he reached his limit.

"Oh. Oh no!" cried Snorri, unable to hear similar cries erupting
around him. It was too much.  Too fast. The boy began to thrash
as an uncomfortable cramped feeling spread throughout his pelvis
and he watched, eyes wide open, as his small smooth belly began
to distend. "Oh! Stop! Stop! Ugh! Ugh!" he chanted as more and
more of the liquid filled him and he wrestled unsuccessfully with
the filaments holding him. Suddenly feeling as if he would burst,
the boy did the only reasonable thing. Instead of clenching his
anus, he seized on the feeling of fullness and attempted to eject
the goo as if he were defecating.

A large splat sounded as a great deal of the goo was violently
expelled from his anus and landed on the bottom portion of the
flower pedal and the ground. Taking a deep breath, the boy
contracted his rectal muscles again and another load of goo
erupted from his puffy anus. For a moment, the feeling of
fullness subsided. Then, like an ever flowing river, the feeling
returned as the filament continued to focus it's powerful jet of
plant goo directly at the boy's backside. Within a moment,
equilibrium was established. The plant continued to direct the
powerful stream of goo directly into his anus and Snorri
continued to contract his muscles, effectively ejecting the blue
liquid. Liquid was coming in while liquid was coming out, causing
the boy to pant as he struggled to eject the invading liquid.
Moreover, the constant back and forth on his anal lips and walls
was causing the boy an odd sort of pleasure and this pleasure,
coupled with the sharp jolts of intense feeling when the stream
of goo was angled such that it hit his prostate with full force,
cause the boy to begin to become erect.

And then the filament stopped its stream. The sudden unexpected
lack of pressure meant that Snorri could evacuate his bowels
completely and, as a huge stream of blue plant biomatter erupted
from his sensitive anal ring, the boy felt much better. His
stomach shrank. His cramping stopped. He heaved a sigh of relief.

That relief was short lived. Just as the goo had caused an odd
sensation when a small bit of it had landed on his exposed anus,
now his entire anus, rectal cavity, and a good deal of his lower
colon were coated in the stuff. Almost immediately after the boy
breathed his sigh of relief, the burning, itching, tingling
feeling began to seize the boy's pelvic area and he suddenly
found himself wiggling again. This time, though, it was in an odd
mix of pleasure and... desire. The feeling was driving him nuts -
like a thousand little ants were crawling all over his anus and
inside his rectum. As the seconds ticked by, Snorri found himself
moaning as if he were in heat, the need for something, anything,
to assuage the feeling that was driving him crazy became his sole
focus. Had the filaments released his hands, he would have
doubled over and shoved as many fingers as he could deep into his
rectum, oblivious to his erect member. The plant didn't, of
course. Instead, the boy found himself whining and, had he cared
to listen, he would have heard whining all around.

Then, as if it had never stopped, the fifth filament suddenly
erupted another stream of the blue plant goo right at his pink
anus, catching the boy unguarded and flooding his insides once
again. This time, the boy moaned in relief as the new feeling of
being doused in goo swept aside the maddening feelings. Then,
just as before, the boy suddenly felt the urge to defecate and,
almost immediately after, the oncoming immediacy of cramps. As
his belly began to swell again, Snorri seized all his strength
and, with a great strain, attempted to evacuate his bowels.

What Snorri didn't realize was that, in doing so, his anus flared
open and, though he was able to expel a great deal of the
flooding goo, he left his anus open enough for the powerful
stream to find his prostate once more. The boy gasped but,
instead of stopping his attempt at defecating, he simply clenched
his teeth and continued. That, in turn, made his prostate the
prime target for the stream. Again, equilibrium was reached, the
boy clenching his muscles in an attempt to expel the invading
liquid while the filament sent a jet of plant good straight past
his sphincter and aggressively over his prostate. Snorri let out
a moan, the pleasure in his prostate building slowly to a
crescendo before the plant stopped again, causing the boy to
expel the remaining liquid. Again, he let out a sigh and again
the itching, burning, tingling feelings returned. Within a few
moments, the boy found himself wanting to be filled; pleading
with the plant to shoot its goo back into him so that...

FLASH

...over and over, the boys were given their goo enemas. Over and
over, their dilated anuses were teased by dueling incoming and
outgoing jets of blue goo. Over and over, powerful streams of
plant goo hammered the immature prostates. Over and over, the
boys expelled the liquid all over the plant and ground. Over and
over, the boys begged to be filled again as the itchy burny
tingling feeling overwhelmed them. Over and over, the forest was
filled with the pleasurable howls of sixty-seven pre-teens. Over
and over, the pleasure built, brick by brick, towards critical
mass. Over and over, over and over.

Then the anal orgasms began.

"Oh shit! Oh shit! Oh SHHHIIITTTT!!!!!" yelled one boy as he
began to convulse.

"Yeah! UGH! Yeah! UGH! UGH!" cried a second.

"HELP! OH NO! HELP! IT'S... IT'S... NOOOOOOOOO!!!!" groaned a
third.

Boy after boy suddenly found, much to his dismay, that his anal
cavity and prostate could only take so much stimulation before
the building pleasure reached a plateau and he was
unceremoniously thrown off; the feeling growing more and more
insistent, like the buildup to a traditional orgasm, but
culminating in a different but no less powerful eruption of
pleasure from deep within his tiny frame. Boys began to gasp as
the pleasurable tsunami rushed through their bodies, from the
tips of their toes to the top of their ears, from the flared
coronal heads of their straining erections to their stiff nipples
to their rapidly convulsing sphincters. They shook and cried and
grunted and snorted and moaned. In fact, the forest became the
setting for a great concert of wails, the sound of the boys all
experiencing, for the first time in their lives, a powerful
direct anal orgasm.

Then, as if this was the signal to begin, the goo-spouting
filament ceased it's steady stream of blue plant biomatter and
began to quiver. Softly at first, the filament rapidly increased
its vibrations so that, only a few heartbeats later, the end of
the tendril was filling the air with a loud buzzing noise, it's
imperceptibly fast vibrations unnoticed by the boys as they
continued to writhe through the tail end of their prostate
orgasm. Then the tendrils dove forward; their buzzing tips
sliding effortlessly past the twitching anal muscles of the boys
and the blue goo being forcibly ejected from their bowels.

The boys reacted immediately, screaming in pleasure as their
fading anal orgasms were suddenly renewed several times over; the
vibrating filament first teasing their puffy anal lips, then
their sphincters, and then their rectal walls before finally
nestling next to their prostates. The boys continued to wail, no
longer intelligible and many close to passing out from the
overwhelming sensations. The vibrating filament swelled slightly
as it began to pump a new liquid, a warm brown sludge, into their
bodies. Moments passed before the sludge began to seep around the
tendril and out into the open. The vibrating, continuing
non-stop, forced the boys to experience a continued anal orgasm,
the white flower not allowing the boys to pull away from the
powerful feelings until, mercifully, the prolonged orgasm became
too much and boy after boy began to pass out...

FLASH

...awoke with a start, his body tingling all over as he lay in
the middle of a comfortable pile of vines. Had that really
happened? Had white flowers really done those things to he and
Ennius? Porcius rolled onto his side and glanced at his brother,
the younger boy asleep only a few feet away and breathing
contently. Figuring it had to be a dream, the young Roman began
to stand but stopped, frozen, as he surveyed their surroundings.
The vines around him were covered in blue and brown goo. Some of
them were bent at odd angles, as if they had been pushed or
pulled by some force. His eyes darting back to his brother,
Porcius's breath hitched when he realized his brother was lying
in a pile of goo as well. Looking more closely, he saw, to his
horror, that his brother's wrists and ankles were somewhat
bruised, as if they... as if they had been held in place.

Porcius slowly brought his own wrists up to his eyes and, seeing
the evidence there, sighed. It hadn't been a dream. As if that
realization wasn't enough, the boy, still in a half crouch,
suddenly felt the need to go and an involuntary squeeze suddenly
forced a small torrent of liquid from his bowels.

As the morning progressed, the brothers talked a bit about their
experience at the hands of the flowers. They took turns examining
each other's anus and rectum for damage, though both found none.
Wanting to be sure, the two boys, somewhat bashfully, used their
fingers to probe each other's backsides so as to ensure there was
no tearing or discomfort. Other than being slightly uncomfortable
with his brother's finger up his bottom, neither boy complained
of damage. Soon, the boys, unsure what else to do, began to hunt
for fresh water and fruit, their day falling into the same patter
as before. Hunt for the newly open red flowers. Drink and eat the
sweet brown fruit. Try to think of a way off the island. And,
after the ordeal with the no-longer-able-to-be-found white
flowers, keep an eye out for island dangers. This pattern...

FLASH

...had been nearly a week since Ajeet had seen the devilish white
flower and he wasn't sure how to feel. Though the ordeal had been
scary, his pre-pubescent penis would get incredibly hard every
time he thought about the event and, much to his delight, he
found he could masturbate freely and regularly to the fantasy of
the white flower choosing to do things to him again. And to his
great delight, he found himself ejaculating semen again, though
his semen had a rather pink coloring to it and, if Ajeet was
honest, his climaxes didn't feel as they had when his body had
been older. Indeed, though this pink semen erupted at every
climax, the boy wondered why he still felt as if his climaxes
were dry and why he didn't feel the need to rest after orgasm.

What was more troubling to the boy than the pink semen, however,
was his odd weight gain. Over the past few days, the boy found
that his belly, previously flat, had begun to bulge outward.
Moreover, his once flat chest was beginning show signs of growth
as his breasts became softer, fuller, and larger. The area around
his nipples, previously very small, had clearly gotten bigger and
his nipples themselves were starting to swell. At one point, the
boy absentmindedly used his thumb and forefinger to tweak his
right nipple and the result, an immediate erection and a deep
pleasant throbbing from his right breast, convinced the boy that
something was changing. In fact...

FLASH

...Muhaka tiredly. "What comes next?" the boy thought to himself
as he and the other boys wandered, or rather waddled, through the
jungle in search of fruit and water. All the boys were rather
uncomfortable and the reason, their distended bellies and large
engorged breasts, made it hard to find the energy to seek out
sustenance. It was only the intense hunger and thirst that drove
them onward, their backs and shoulders aching at the strain.

Eventually, the boys wandered into a small clearing and paused
for a rest. Sliding to the ground carefully, weary of his large
belly, Muhaka listened absentmindedly while Christopher, their
white brother, whispered quietly with Erevu. The subject, Muhaka
assumed, was one of two continuing discussions: either the nature
of their odd pink semen or the boys' transformation from
pre-pubescent nine year olds to prepubescent pregnant nine year
olds. Of course, none of the boys thought they were actually
pregnant - they only used that term because they looked so much
like the women of the village just before they gave birth; with
large swollen bellies and breasts the size of the juju fruits.

Suddenly, a small moan came from the other side of the clearing
and Muhaka glanced over to see Mahakne and Oojiua sitting very
close together. Mahakne was moaning, his head pushed back and his
legs spread wide. Oojiua was casually masturbating Mahakne with
one hand, not an unusual sight. Indeed, the boys of Nuchaktae had
a longstanding tradition of masturbating each other so as to
build the bonds of friendship. This tradition had taken on a new
meaning in the past few days, of course, because each boy's belly
had swollen to such a degree, that all nine found it very
difficult to reach their skinny arms around their flesh to grasp
their boyhoods and thus the only way to satisfy ones' lusts was
to have another boy take care of the need. What caused Muhaka's
eyes to widen, though, was not this masturbatory action. Instead,
it was the fact that Oojiua's other hand was casually squeezing
Mahakne's right breast while his lips were gently sucking on
Mahakne's left nipple. Though Muhaka couldn't tell what may or
may not have been flowing into Oojiua's mouth, he could see with
perfect clarity the river of liquid... of milk... running down
the front of Mahakne's chest; his right breast obviously a
fountain of the stuff...

FLASH

...had been feeling stranger and stranger as the morning
progressed and now, lying under a large tree while the noonday
sun beat down on the island, Song felt as if he was losing touch
with reality. The lower half of his body tingled uncontrollably
and, though Song had been unable to touch his penis in days due
to his distended belly, he could tell he was erect and, if the
feelings were anything to go by, somehow slowly approaching an
orgasm. He moaned, half in pleasure and half in frustration. What
was going on?

His stomach rumbled loudly and the boy tried to sit up, his
strength all but gone and leaving him flat on his back. Then, out
of nowhere, a sharp jolt of energy seemed to pass through his
stomach and, grunting, the boy lifted his knees and planted his
feet firmly on the ground, just in time for anus to open and a
small torrent of liquid to come crashing out. Though Song was on
his back, he could hear the splat as the liquid hit the ground
and he could feel wetness on his backside. Despite turning his
head, however, the boy couldn't see what he had just defecated.

"Ugh! Oh Ugh!" the boy suddenly grunted throatily as he felt a
rush of pleasurable movement in his bowels. Contracting his
muscles, he tried to expel whatever it was but, as best he could
tell, nothing came out. Then, just as he though to give up, the
feelings redoubled and, to his surprise, he could feel his
sphincter open and a long tube of something slide casually out of
his body. His sphincter refused to close, however, and for a
moment, Song became confused, in part from the feeling of his
anus stretched around something fleshy and in part from the now
powerful pre-climax that was sweeping through is body...

FLASH

...on his back, the waves of sexual energy whipping though him,
Finnr turned his head towards Vali and his eyes went wide. Only a
few feet from him, Vali was moaning and groaning, as were all the
boys. However, from this angle, Finnr had an unobstructed view of
Vali's backside and his now gaping anus. Moreover, Finnr had an
unobstructed view of the three clear filaments, the same sorts of
filaments from the white flowers, as they slid gracefully out of
his friend and between the boys outstretched legs; anchored, as
it seemed, deep inside Vali but now free to roam his body.

Looking between his own knees, Finn gasped as he saw three more
filaments, presumably sticking out of his own backside,
undulating in place above his bloated stomach, as if they were
serpents preparing to strike. And strike they did.

Before Finnr could react, one of the filaments dipped below his
stomach and began to engulf his boyhood. Though his belly
obscured his view, Finnr could feel every centimeter of the
filaments movement; it's tip opening up around his coronal head
as it slid agonizingly over his sensitive gland, the moment it
rubbed wickedly over his frenulum, and it's smooth slick warmth
as it made it's way unobstructed down his rigid shaft. An
internal muscle within the filament began to rapidly stroke the
boy, giving him amazing masturbatory sensations without the
filament having to dislodge itself from his erect member. Finnr
climaxed, his penis ejaculating a steady stream of his pink semen
as the boy shook violently, throwing his head back. "AHHHH AHHHH
AYYYYEEEE!!!!" he squealed, his eyes unfocused. Dimly in the
background, he heard other screams of pleasure as boy after boy
endured the climactic assault of the first filament to leave
their rectums.

The other two filaments seized the moment and lunged forward,
each opening its tip and latching onto one of Finnr's nipples.
Immediately, they began a steady suction while an internal muscle
began to tease and stroke Finnr's sensitive teats. The boy's
reaction was instantaneous. Though he was already in the middle
of one orgasm, the feelings being generated by his
hyper-sensitive nipples caused the boy to experience a secondary
climax on top of the first, inundating his body with continuous
orgasmic delight without any letdown. The boy continued to
ejaculate and his breasts, reacting to the suction, began to
produce milk. As the boy wiggled and writhed, moaning at the
onslaught, his breast milk and semen filled the filaments and
rapidly rushed towards the base of the appendages deep inside his
bowels.

With no refractory period and with hypersensitivity in both their
nipples and their members, the boys maintained a continuous
climax - their bodies pumping milk and semen through the
filaments and deep into their rectums. A minute passed. Two. The
boys were screaming in pleasure, trying to ride the unstoppable
feelings. Three minutes. Four. The boys yelled incoherently. Five
minutes. Six. A sudden and profound urge seized each boy despite
his climax, a building pressure deep in his bowels. Force.
Movement. The sudden need to...

FLASH

....clearing was filled with many of the American teenagers,
their now prepubescent nine-year-old bodies overwhelmed by the
aggressive filaments protruding from their assholes and milking
there sensitive erections and breasts to a continuous climax. The
boys howled and writhed in pleasure, their semen and milk
flooding into the hungry filaments and feeding whatever lay
growing deep in their abowels. Suddenly, the music of their
communal climax changed as boy after boy let out a throaty groan
and thrust his pelvis into the air, his rectum stretching
impossibly wider as a large brown seed emerged and landed
unceremoniously onto the ground, the three filaments extending
from its tip still busily milking the boys.

Plop. Plop. Plop. The forest was alive with the birth of the new
plants as the boys, their now gaping assholes closing rapidly and
their mountainous bellies slowly shrinking, shivered and began to
pass out. Sensing their carriers becoming unconscious, the
seedlings began to withdraw their filaments back into themselves
and, at the same time, began burrowing into the soft vine covered
floor of the island. Only minutes after their birth, the seeds
were no longer visible above ground.

The boys, exhausted from their ordeal, lay strewn about the many
clearings deep in a restorative slumber. For forty-eight hours,
the youngsters slept, their bodies slowly expelling the wide
variety of colorful liquid toxins responsible for their
unimaginable changes. Yellow liquid rushed gleefully from their
ears and their breasts shrank. Blue goo ran steadily from their
bellybuttons and their stomachs began to flatten. Thick orange
sludge leaked from their rectums and the boys began to grow
older, their bodies rapidly changing back to the age they were
when they first arrived on the island. By the time the...

FLASH

...sun finally pulled the boy from his slumber, and Ennius slowly
began to stir. His mind, jumbled with sleep and confusing images,
gradually began to make sense of the world around him. Stretching
and opening his eyes, the fourteen-year-old sat up and surveyed
his surroundings. Off to his left was his brother Porcius, the
fifteen-year-old sleeping soundly in the nook of two large vines.
The sun indicated it was around midday, though his confused sense
of time made it difficult for Ennius to recall just when he went
to bed last. The clearing itself was...

The boy's eyes suddenly shot back to his brother. His
fifteen-year-old brother. His brother who had a smattering of
hair across his body and a normal looking pubic mound, his bush
of pubic hair clearly visible above a semi-erect and, more
importantly, clearly teenage member. Ennius's hands shot to his
own boyhood and he gave out a loud "woop!" when he discovered
that his body was like it was before - normal. No longer the
immature child he'd been for the past... well... however long it
had been. No, he was back to normal!

Jumping up, Ennius rushed over to his brother and began to shake
him awake, his smile and laughter...

FLASH

...and Ajeet felt sand! Real sand! The kind of sand that you feel
between your toes and fingers! Throwing himself on the beach, the
naked teen kissed the ground, thanking the universe that he was
off the island.

He'd woken up several days earlier to discover himself back to
normal and plenty of water and fruit available throughout the
island for him. Famished and dehydrated, he had consumed a great
deal of it mindful of the fact that this fruit was most likely
the cause of all the problems he'd had while stranded on the
floating prison. And yet, nothing happened. Then, as luck would
have it, this very morning, while standing on the edge of the
island, Ajeet had seen a dark shape in the distance. And it got
closer!

By early afternoon, the land was only a few hundred feet from the
edge of the island itself; the ocean between the two land masses
seeming like a small stream rather than part of the majestic sea
Ajeet had been used to staring at. Thinking this was his chance,
the boy crossed the small channel, glad that the water only
reached his hips at it's deepest point and unnerved when his feet
felt the underwater vines give way to actual sandy land. And here
he was, finally, away from the island that had been his home for
an indeterminable amount of time. Rolling onto his back, the boy
glanced up and gasped. The island was already quite far away, the
small channel now, clearly, an ocean barrier. As he watched, the
island continued to drift out to sea until, perhaps and hour
later, it was gone.

Taking a deep breath, Ajeet stood up and turned to the beach
before him. He had no idea where he was. Still, standing around
would get him nowhere so he casually placed one foot forward
and...

FLASH

The man disengaged himself from the computer, lay back, and
closed his eyes. Fascinating. Simply fascinating. He knew,
generally, how the story ended for each boy he'd seen. History
was littered with references of strange looking boys speaking
even stranger tongues appearing on beaches around the world. Some
of those boys, he assumed, made it back to their home; probably
the one's who were abducted once technology made the world
smaller. Others were not as lucky, though the piecemeal records
seemed to indicate that many of them blended into the surrounding
societies and adapted to their new realities. That said, what
happened after they left the island was of little concern to the
man and the ARX300 never followed them inland. Instead, it stayed
with the mysterious island as it scoured the oceans for new boys
to strand. Opening his eyes, the man reached for a note pad and
began to write down his initial thoughts. Halfway through writing
the date, though, he stopped, put the pen down, and plugged
himself back into the machine for another look.