A true adventurer is entrapunerial at heart. Dulce immediately found an unoccupied spot near the bushes by the gate. The girl poked her head up from the bush, looked left, looked right.
Empty.
She bent down and rummaged through her backpack. Most of the ropes meant for delicate bondage could not hold her weight as an anchor. Finally she found some pink skipping rope that looked durable. Swinging it around, she hooked it to the gate.
"Hiro," Dulce said, straining herself up the gate. "You and those wonderful soles of yours will be mine this summer. Mine mine mine!" As their sole owner, shed take wonderful care of them, shed pamper them and treat them and never take a second off of them. And to imagine the squeals and laughter and begging that that cute boy would emit. He would be her perfect little toy to play with.
Dulce mounted the gates and jumped down. Or tried to. At the last second, her skipping rope caught the gate top and she dangled a foot off the ground, swinging.
"Oh no! Shoot!" The eager beaver flailed about, vexed by this sudden hindrance. "Aaaah let me free!"
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