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Island Terror

She awoke with a start. Was it a sound she heard? Or a bad dream she had had? The child in her cringed. She wanted to hang over the side of the bed and look underneath. She strained in the dark to see if the closet door was shut tight. She had to fight an impulse to turn on a light. If there were a monster in her room she did not want to make it easier for it to see her. She was as close to paralyzed as you can get, lying in the dark, letting her childhood mind entertain her. Downstairs a faucet dripped. The sound it made hitting the sink beneath it was loud; amplified by the quiet in the house. She listened to all the night sounds and tried to isolate the ones inside her house.This is a sexual fantasy. A sadistic sexual fantasy. A scary sexual fantasy. If you do not like them, do not read this. If you are under 18, do not read this. If you believe everything you read, do not read this. If you are none of these things, enjoy this story. He did.

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