Date: Thu, 30 Dec 2004 21:10:31 EST From: Jonah Subject: Island Paradise Ch 4 Carl lay still. His eyes stayed closed. The sun was warm, and from the sound of the surf the tide was in. No matter - they were well out of reach of the tide. He could hear the others talking quietly very close, but he kept his eyes closed. If they thought he was still asleep they might just carry on. He could feel someone - Rory most likely - fondling his penis. Somebody was licking his toes. They must have slept well. At one point, he remembered, Simon had got up and broached one of the coconuts - heaven alone knew what with. Probably had a Swiss army knife or something. Certainly Simon had gone round to make sure everybody got a few sips of the sweet coconut milk. After that he could remember nothing. Mmmm ! That felt good. Still without opening his eyes, he reached out and put an arm round the shoulders of whoever was wanking him. It was Rory, who immediately lay his head on Carl's chest. A glance downward showed Toby quietly licking his toes. Still it felt good. Simon and the twins had disappeared from view - but he could hear them somewhere nearby. Beyond Toby the fire had been rekindled, and - from the snatches of conversation he could pick out - the other three boys were working on coconuts. Damn! If the boys were up and working it was time he got up. Playfully he pushed Rory aside. "Up!" he said, suiting the action to the word. He turned to find Simon standing behind him. "Morning !", said Simon cheerfully, "Breakfast". He produced a half coconut shell which apeared to have been neatly sawn open. The flesh inside had been sliced up into chunks and cut loose from the shell. "How'd you do that ?" asked Carl. "Keep the shells", Simon responded, ignoring Carl's question, "we'll need them to carry water in. The lifejackets will hold more but it might not taste nice out of them. Do you think there is any fresh water?" "Loads", replied Carl, "We found a big lagoon behind those trees. I was thinking some of us could go for a swim this morning. Someone would have to stay with Toby, and to look after the fire, but the swimming party could bring water and firewood back." Simon considered this. "I need to talk to you." he said, "If the twins go with Rory, they can swim; and if they take the lifejackets and coconut shells they can bring water back. I'd better get the firewood: I'm the only one with the saw." "Saw ?" exclaimed Carl incredulously. "In my survival kit". "Survival kit ?" "I wish you wouldn't keep repeating everything I say". "Everything you say?" laughed Carl, hurriedly dodging the cuff round the ear which Simon aimed in his direction. Both boys fell about laughing. Simon explained that his Scout leader had made each boy in his troop carry a tobacco tin containing a coiled wire saw, a length of nylon fishing line, a wad of cotton wool, a couple of safety pins, a Swiss army knife and ten pence for an emergency phone call. " I want to see you make that phone call",said Carl, but it was clear that he was impressed. The twins were loaded up with lifejackets and coconut shells and despached on their expedition. Rory declared himself the leader and set about strenuously supervising. Carl watched them set off and then turned back to Simon. "We need to talk", he said, simply. They walked back to Toby and deliberately sat with their feet in the boy's reach. Toby didn't need telling twice. "First of all",began Carl, "I'm not in uniform any more. It doesn't matter which of us is in charge here. I may carry more clout because I'm older, but you're better organised. That counts for a lot. Let's work together on this. You carry on and do what needs doing, but if you think you've got problems getting the others to co-operate, sing out - I'll soon get them to toe the line. We've got to hold this group together until we can get rescued. We don't know how long that will be, but I think we can do it. Especially since you boys seem to have your own special way of building morale." "Looked like they were building your morale this morning", remarked Simon, swivelling himself round so that he could share Carl's feet with Toby. Carl shrugged. He was not sorry that Simon's beautiful feet were now so close. "What I was going to tell you", Simon continued. Carl gave his full attention. He had forgotten that Simon had asked for an audience. "What it was - see where these trees come close to the shore?" Carl nodded. "Well the other side of them theres a sort of rocky outcrop that sticks out into the sea at high tide. At low tide the beach there's all shingly, and shellfish get washed up there. Some wreckage from the plane and two suitcases got washed up there too. One of thems mine. I don't recognise the other but I didn't want the twins to see in case it was their Mom's or something. It could've set Stevie off again." Carl had to agree. "Tell you what. When the others come back, you go down there with Rory. He'll know if it's anything Stevie shouldn't see, and if it isn't you can bring them both back here." "OK!", said Simon, "I'd better go get some wood. You be OK with Toby?" "Yeah! Sure!" replied Carl, laying himself down. He was just about to start masturbating himself as Toby licked the balls of his feet, when it occurred to him that nobody had checked the circulation in Toby's feet since his legs had been splinted together. He repositioned himself near the little boy's bare feet whilst carefully ensuring that his own size tens stayed within Toby's reach. Little, fair haired, eight year old Toby was small for his age. His feet still had the triangular outline of a childs feet. His short toes arched upwards slightly before their downward curve, making the balls of his feet seem unusually deep. His soles were soft, with much wrinkling in the arches. There was still plenty of colour in those cute soles, so the bandaging had not interrupted his circulation. He lay down next to the lovely little feet. He would not touch them for fear of hurting Toby. He began to masturbate, but not for long. There was a crashing through the undergrowth. Simon had been running. Running too fast. His anguished cries were something that he could not manage at the same time as breathing. He tried to call Carl's name, but an urgent wheezing was the best that he could manage. Carl was on his feet. Had taken hold of Simon. "What? What is it?" Simon could not have answered if he had the breath to do so. The look of terror on his face was all the stimulus Carl needed. "Stay with Toby!" he ordered as he began to run in the direction from which Simon had come. He crashed through the trees. The undergrowth tore at his naked flesh - tore unnoticed. He broke out of the trees and found himself on a shingle beach. In front of him was a rocky outcrop. At the foot of it, among the seashells lay the two suitcases Simon had mentioned; and something else. Something bloated and misshapen. Something wearing the remains of an airline captain's uniform. Something dead.