Chapter 1

Two years ago:

Everything shook, waking Jason from his nap. Where was he? The lights flickered off and back on. He looked around the plane cabin. Oh, right ... he and his Christian middle school class were on their way home from their trip to Hawaii.

The chartered jet plane shook again, and thunder roared right outside. Again the lights flickered. Other students gasped ... he heard one girl crying.

Sister Nancy entered the cabin from the front. “Keep calm, everyone! The pilot says we’ll be through this soon.”

Then a sound as loud as the world smashed into Jason’s head. The inside of the cabin briefly lit up pale blue and the plane broke into a dive. He felt his stomach rise at the sudden loss of altitude and in the aftermath of the flash he saw Sister Nancy’s head hit the ceiling just before the lights went out for good.

Everyone was screaming. He could feel the weightlessness of freefall pushing him up against his seat belt. He wondered if he might lose his lunch. He struggled to remember what he had for lunch, the absurdity of such a thought lost to him as they plummeted from the sky.

And then there was nothing.

Now:

Jason crept through the underbrush, careful not to touch any of the plants around him. The pig was no more than 50 feet ahead. He held his spear tightly as he painstakingly skirted fern and frond. Closer, closer...

At 15 feet the pig squealed and started to run. “Damnit!” thought Jason, and he broke into a sprint. His shoes, while coming apart from the soles at the toes, still had enough tread to keep him surefooted as he dashed forward.

The pig darted through the brush, barely visible, but loud so Jason wouldn’t lose it. He was gaining.

Jason scooped up a fist-sized rock as he ran, tossing it ahead and off to the left where the pig seemed to be headed. Sure enough, the sound of the stone hitting the ground forced the pig to swing back across Jason’s sights. In one swift movement he swung his arm, the spear arcing forward, cutting into the beast’s side. The pig screamed and dropped to the ground. Jason was upon it within a second, knife in hand, and he brought it down across the pig’s throat. A gush of blood and it was over.

Panting, Jason sat down next to his kill. He was about an hour from camp. Dragging the carcass all the way back would be gruelling, but necessary. Game was scarce these days.

He looked down at his torn pants and shoes, now covered in blood. Bleah! He didn’t relish the idea of that drying as he trekked back home.

Now that it was silent he heard something and paused ... it was a faint water sound. A waterfall? He wiped his knife on the beast’s fur, sheathed it, and then picked the spear up. Both were actually the same kind of blade: a kitchen knife from the crashed plane, though the latter was tied to a sturdy balanced stick. He grabbed the pig by its hind legs and dragged it toward the sound.

A few minutes later he broke out of the forest to dazzling sunlight. When his vision adapted he could see the waterfall cresting down to a pool. The water was as blue as he’d ever seen. He pulled the pig down the hill, left it in the shade (but where he could keep it in sight), and dived in. The water was cooler than the warm tropical air but not cold ... it was wonderful after his recent exertion. He moved back closer to the shore and removed his clothes, giving them a good squishing to get the gore off as best he could, and then he left them on the surrounding rocks so that they would dry in the sun.

He splashed around for a while, enjoying himself, not at all mindful of his surroundings.

Dark eyes watched the boy. Dark skin kept the watcher unnoticed in the shadows of the trees as Jason swam back and forth, diving and surfacing. Jason finally clambered up to where his clothes were, and the dark eyes widened as they beheld the boy’s naked, athletic form.

Jason lay down next to his clothes and reclined, enjoying the sun’s rays on his tanned skin. He closed his eyes and brought his hand down to his cock, which had already started to harden in the warm sunlight.

The watcher moved to the side to get a better view of what the boy was doing. Jason started to stroke his penis, the shaft lengthening as he did so. The watcher’s new hiding spot afforded a great view of Jason pleasuring himself. The watcher’s breathing became heavy.

Jason’s cock was now almost 6 inches long, and hard. He skimmed his hand up and down the shaft, feeling the pleasure build. He thought about the girls in his class, though it had been so long since he had seen any of them that they were like faceless dolls with legs showing under their school skirts in his mind. Still, it was enough ... he thought about a faceless girl taking off her clothes in front of him, reaching for his penis...

“Aah!” he gasped as he spurted his cum up in the air and onto his chest. That was good, he thought. He took a moment, and then got up in order to wash himself off. He had just dipped his feet back into the water when he heard something from the trees on the rise above the pool, a whining sound ... was that an animal?

He quietly slipped from the pool, making sure that he was no longer in sight of whatever was up there, and made his way up the other side of the hill. He kept quiet as he approached whatever it was from the side. As he got closer he mentally kicked himself for leaving his weapons on the rocks.

Now whatever it was sounded like it was making a high-pitched grunting. Another pig? It didn’t sound quite right. Finally he was just on the other side of the tree from whatever it was. It was now or never!

Jason leapt around the tree and tackled the figure crouching there. A spear similar to his went flying to the side and a cry of alarm came from...

Jason looked down at his captive. He couldn’t believe his eyes. A ... girl? He hadn’t seen a girl in over a year. His surprise didn’t keep him from pinning her arms back when she tried to roll him off of her, though.

He looked at her. Dark skin, long dark hair ... he vaguely remembered her from his school, though not her name. “Beautiful...” he uttered, unaware that he had said it aloud.

The girl stopped struggling when he said that, and looked at him sitting on her chest. He was well muscled and tanned from 2 years of tropical island living, and handsome besides. His hair was cut short, though poorly, and had been bleached blonde from the sun. His blue eyes looked down at her, though she realized that while he had been looking at her face when he complimented her, he wasn’t anymore. His eyes scanned her torso.

The girl had the most beautiful chocolate brown skin showing all around the ripped burgundy half top that had once been her school uniform shirt. Jason’s eyes nearly bugged out when he saw the large bumps straining at the shirt’s front. He brought his face closer to hers. She smelled ... strange. No, he realized as he moved his face to the side, it was her hand that smelled, a sweat scent mixed with something else ... something that made his cock stir.

She felt that. She also felt the remnants of his earlier ejaculation drip from his chest onto her stomach. Her eyes widened in fear and she tensed up.

“I won’t hurt you.” Jason said, reassuringly. “I’m going to let go of you now, but no sudden moves, okay?”

She nodded, her eyes swinging from his face to the wetness on her stomach. Jason let go of her arms, but stayed crouched above her stomach. Finally she spoke:

“What are you gonna do to me?”

He paused. He hadn’t actually thought about it. Perhaps if he hadn’t just finished masturbating his primitive instincts would have kicked in when he saw her boobs pressing against her shirt, but he had a more functional brain now. It still didn’t tell him what he should do, though.

“Will you let me go if I give you ... a kiss?” she asked, her eyes fearful, or ... excited?

He looked at her lips, full and dark pink. “I ... yes.”

He let her up and they looked at each other more fully. Her school skirt had likewise been ripped over the years so it was more of a loincloth, and her dark shapely legs showed almost all the way up to her hips on the sides. His cock started to harden again. Her gaze lingered between his legs and he realized that he was still naked.

Suddenly she rushed forward, grabbed his face and pulled his lips to hers. He felt as though the lightning that had brought their plane down had struck again, this time through his whole body. He returned the girl’s kiss tentatively, and then she broke away, grabbed her spear and bolted into the brush while he stood there with a silly grin on his face.

As soon as Makayla had gotten sufficiently far from the boy the girl stopped behind a tree and touched the white substance the boy had left on her stomach, which had rolled down and partly soaked into the waistband of her loincloth. She brought it up to her nose and gave it a sniff. She hadn’t smelled anything like it before. Then she tasted it ... salty! She transferred the rest from her midriff onto her finger and gave it another lick. Her vagina still felt all tingly from when she was touching herself while watching the boy. She took the finger, wet from her saliva and a little bit of his sperm, and returned it to her clitoris, finishing the masturbation she had started earlier.

Jason returned to camp, still thinking about what had happened in the forest. The other boys greeted the successful hunter’s return. They would feast for a week on the pig he dragged behind him.

Jason saw Dylan tending the fire, preparing it for the evening, and noticed a fresh shiner under one of Dylan’s eyes. The boys were getting more rowdy as they got older, and sometimes they needed to “let off some steam,” usually involving fists. Getting away from that was one of the reasons Jason liked hunting, although today’s antics added a new reason.

Jason dropped the pig off at the “fridge cave,” which had a cool stream at the back that kept the cave cool enough to preserve the meat they caught until they finished it. He nodded at George, their leader, as the older boy watched Jason from the stoop of his hut in the center of camp.

Jason returned to his own hut and stripped down, thinking of the girl and how she had felt when he had caught her, her dark skin hot against his as she struggled underneath him, the mounds on her chest straining at her ripped school shirt. He started masturbating again.

Makayla returned to her own camp, which had been set up around the wreckage of their plane that had crashed what felt like so long ago. Her adventure with the boy had made her sufficiently distracted so that her own hunt was unsuccessful. She hoped Mary had found something, or they would not eat tonight.

On the outskirts of her camp she passed the graveyard. Sister Barbara, several students, and the pilot had died on impact. Some had injuries that Sister Nancy had been able to help with when she was in her lucid moments. Some, including the co-pilot, had died from those injuries. There had been 19 survivors, almost evenly split for gender. 4 more had died from disease since their crash landing.

The graves were marked with detached seat backs from the plane as headstones. She bowed her head to the departed as she passed. ‘There, but for the grace of God, go I,’ she thought to herself.

One of the scouts must have reported Makayla’s approach to Joan, as the stocky leader of their tribe was heading toward her. Makayla stopped, lowering her head ... she had failed.

Joan took Makayla’s spear and pointed to the cage, gaping open as if it was some hungry beast waiting to be fed. Makayla silently entered the cage and lay down on the bench there.

A night in the cage for an unsuccessful hunt. Sister Nancy had made the rule over a year ago. Even after the fallout from that decision, she still held to it. Joan closed and locked the cage, and then turned her back on Makayla as she walked away.

Makayla considered the cage. She had been in it often enough. The door had originally led from the front section of the plane to the cockpit, but when the plane had cracked apart during the crash, this section had been driven into the side of a hill. The door still worked, and locked, though the cockpit that it had protected had been found dozens of yards away. With only one window on the side for light, it was gloomy and depressing. Also, since the door had been designed to keep out plane hijackers and the other end of it was solid earth, there was no way to break out.

Makayla thought about the beautiful boy she had spied upon, and who had captured her as she pleasured herself. Why had she been so excited by his naked body, and how it felt on top of her? It had been her idea to use a kiss to free herself. That kiss! She had almost not ended it, though she didn’t know what else she would have done if she had stayed.

The shapely teenage girl removed her clothes and started to masturbate again, thinking about her adventure earlier that day.

There was no need to hunt for a few days, but when the time came Jason headed back toward the waterfall. The girl wasn’t there, and why would she be, he thought to himself. Still, he searched the nearby area.

After a half hour he heard something off to the side. He headed that way, ears pricked, careful not to make any noise himself.

His efforts were in vain, though, as he had already been spotted and was now the prey, not the hunter. As he passed under a tree there was a noise above and something hit him from behind. He was able to keep the spear in hand but got a mouthful of rich earth as he landed face first.

A foot stomped on his weapon hand and it unwillingly gave up the spear, which was kicked off to the side by his attacker’s other foot. A knee came down on his back and his knife was pulled from its sheath. Then he was no longer pinned.

Jason carefully rolled over, looking up at his attacker. Another pretty girl, this one Caucasian with dark hair, her ripped clothes showing off her toned legs and midriff, as the previous girl’s had. She was crouching and pointing the business end of his knife at him.

“Hi,” he said, holding his hands up to indicate his surrender. “You caught me fair and square. Um ... can I give you a kiss to let me go?” He beamed a toothy smile at her.

Jason was roughly pushed into the female camp, still limping from the kick to the testicles that had been the only answer to his cheeky question. As he made his way forward he remembered the last time he had been here, almost 2 years ago.

Sister Nancy had been acting crazy ever since she had hit her head during the crash, and had ordered a series of punishments, including whipping and setting up the half buried cockpit section of the plane as a cell. She was particularly hard on the boys, who she kept saying were “wicked”. In the end all the boys left, led by George, and they moved to the other side of the island. Neither group had seen the other again, until a few days ago.

As expected, he drew a crowd of several girls, including the one he had been looking for. She looked at him with dread as he was shoved past.

He was pushed down on his knees next to the main section of the fallen plane. A tarp covered a gap in the fuselage, which was pushed aside as Sister Nancy strode out.

She looked much as she had years ago, with her habit as immaculate as it could be, given the circumstances. Her haughty look had not changed, and her eyes still held that craziness that had pushed all the boys to leave. In fact, she looked like she might have gotten crazier.

“Jason,” she said. Even crazy, her memory was as perfect as it had ever been. “Look at you, all grown up now.”

He didn’t like the way she was looking at him, her gaze evaluating his form. He lowered his eyes.

“Cage,” was her only word before turning her back to him and returning to her cabin.

Jason was pulled to his feet by two of the girls, both armed with spears, and directed into the cage. The door slammed and locked behind him. He could barely see through the dirt obscuring the only window, but guessed that there was about a half dozen girls in the camp, not counting Sister Nancy.

He tried the door but, as expected, it was firmly latched, as it had been the last time he had been incarcerated in the cage, over a year ago.

He sat on the bench and waited. Every once in a while someone would look in through the window, though he couldn’t tell who it had been, or even if it was the same person each time. After it got dark he lay down and went to sleep.

Jason was awoken in the morning by the sound of the door unlocking. He sprang to his feet, ready to burst out, but quickly belayed that plan when two spearheads preceded their owners, who then beckoned him out.

The girls let him take care of his business in the latrine they had set up just outside of camp. The girls watched him very carefully, angling their heads to try to spy what was between his legs as he did so. After that he was brought into the plane cabin and pushed to sit in one of the seats. Seven girls were here, as well as Sister Nancy.

Sister Nancy stood up to address her tribe: “We have been on this island a long time,” she began, “and I have given up hope that we will ever be rescued.” This revelation caused a stir among her audience, stifled by her raised hand.

She continued, “To survive here is one thing, but it does not meet our Lord’s commandment: ‘Be fruitful and multiply.’ When the wicked, wicked boys went away I thought that that was for the best, but I see now that our Lord works in mysterious ways, returning this boy -- this young man -- to us at the appointed hour.”

“Remove his trousers,” Sister Nancy commanded. As one girl put him in a headlock and two other girls pulled his pants off, Sister Nancy pulled her habit up and over her head.