Ginny began to look around in earnest. The men, mostly big, brawny types were wearing a variety of animal skins and tunics. There were plaid colored kilts as well. They were very dirty, with matted down hair and brown streaks on their exposed arms and legs. They were also the hairiest group of men Ginny had ever seen. Wait, she thought to herself, this is just like the book I read about the Highlands in Scotland. Dear God, is my dream based on a romance novel?

It occurred to Ginny that if this was indeed a dream, she should be able to do whatever she wanted with no consequences. Ginny eyes lit up with the possibilities. She would, of course, be saved by some mega-hunk who would then want to marry her. The sex would be incredible, especially after her celibate week in the Caribbean (not that she was all that sexually active beforehand). And she bet she would be able to do things in her dream that she would never do in real life, like fight her way past all these sick, smelly men.

The biggest, hairiest and smelliest of the group stood in front of Ginny, speaking in the same language Ginny had heard earlier, but couldn't understand. For some reason, she could now pick out a few words here and there. Gaelic, she thought to herself. He's speaking Gaelic and for some reason, I know some of the words.

Ginny listened intently and managed to understand a little of what he told the large group of men. She heard something about a new mistress, since the old one was worn out. Could that be right? The men are laughing and leering at her. Uh-oh, am I the new mistress? There were no words in Ginny's mind to describe how foul and disgusting that possibility was. Ginny's face must have demonstrated how she was feeling, because big, hairy, smelly guy started laughing at her.