Message-ID: <10659eli$9804251211@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
From: KinderGentler@hotmail.com (Kinder Gentler)
Subject: Story: Fantasy Island (gb+ pedo nc)
Newsgroups: alt.sex.first-time,alt.sex.pre-teens,alt.sex.stories,alt.sex.stories.bondage,alt.sex.stories.moderated
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d
Path: qz!not-for-mail
Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam
Approved: <usenet-approval@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded <story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Story-Submission: <story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Original-Message-ID: <6hrs0i$a5u$2@newshost.cyberramp.net>


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

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

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

She arranges to have her family believe she is spending the night with
a friend. In the late afternoon, she takes a row boat across the lake
to the island. The sky is clear. A light warm breeze is blowing across
the water.   Arriving on the distant shore, she beaches the boat and
ties it down. 

After carrying her things ashore, she decides to look around the
island. The island is covered with pine trees. Their fallen needles
make a smooth natural carpet under the trees. The carpet is dotted
with flowers here and there where the sunlight breaks through. A few
bushes have sprouted from underneath the needles. Otherwise the ground
is rather clear. She hears birds singing in the trees. She notices one
bush with berries on it. They look a little like grapes or currants.
The first one tastes pretty good, so she picks a handful more to munch
on as she looks around. She vaguely wonders if they’re safe.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Now she’s a bit scared. Naked, in a forest, on an island. How do you
explain that? Besides, she’s never been naked before, except in the
shower. And she’d never been seen naked by anyone except the girls in
gym class at school.   Certainly no boy has ever seen her in this
condition!

Then too, it is a bit exciting. If she weren’t so scared and
embarrassed, she might even enjoy this experience. The excitement
might have even made her wet her pants. That is, if she had had any
on.

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

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

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

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

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

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

In the moonlight, she can see some of herself as she raises up her
head. She had noted recently in the shower that each of her budding
breasts is less than a handful. And her hands are still small
themselves. Small thought they may be, they are firm and nicely
shaped. Her fair skin is even more fair under her clothes, and the
moonlight lightens her skin further, so that her breasts resemble
scoops of vanilla ice cream with a tiny almond on top of each.  Her
hips have started to widen a little, complementing her athletic body
with the beginnings of a classically womanly figure. Her torso is well
defined, like a Greek statue. She could have been the model for Venus
de Milo. Her skin is flawless, except for an occasional freckle to add
character.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

As her feelings subside, she drifts off to sleep.

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

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

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

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

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

Soon the leader approaches. The boys back off a little. The leader
kneels between her legs He gently touches her with the tips of his
fingers, first on the breasts, then down the torso to the peak of her
pubic mound.

Leaving the tips of his fingers on the mound, he uses his thumbs to
gently separate the lips of her private parts, as though searching for
something. As he locates it, and gently rubs and strokes it, her
excitement increases at an incredible pace. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Could it be?


================ comments welcome ================



-- 
+--------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `------------+
| story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us | story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us |