I've found a bit more time to write recently so hopefully I can finish this story off before too long. There are probably another 2 chapters after this.
LB
Shipwreck - Part 03
Chapter 25
Crichton looked over towards the wreck where Tanya was currently clearing the last of the salvageable items as he trudged disconsolately back towards the encampment. What would he say to his step-daughter about what had transpired between him and Nadia?
'Sorry babe I just stuck my dick into her... '
Yes, it had been at a time of stress and she had egged him on but he should keep better control of himself. He couldn't avoid the fact that he had been erect... turned on... horny... for the beautiful blonde Russian woman... the old adage about a 'standing cock having no conscience' had been true in this case. He had wanted to fuck her... no, more than that... he wanted to dominate her, to tame her, but most of all to hear her begging the nigger to fuck her! He reflected back on the moment and could not escape the fact that he felt that her behaviour warranted chastisement but surely not by using sexual violence against her... even if she did seem to want it! That was not like him at all and perhaps reflected the level of stress they were all under but then he tried to excuse his behaviour... she was aroused too, perhaps she got off on being forced? Certainly the social media rumours swirling around the divorce case would indicate that the 'rape' may not have been entirely unwelcome.
He was getting hard again at the thought but he tried to think about anything but the feel of Nadia's tight cunt. He needed to remember that he and Tanya were now lovers... 'exclusive' to use a term that seemed to have come into vogue since he was a teenager... or at least they should be 'exclusive' if they were going to be together when they got off this island. He couldn't imagine them in an open relationship as he would be incessantly jealous of anyone she wanted to hook up with and the age gap between them would always be a worrying issue to him. He would be devastated if she left him for someone more her own age.
To keep his mind focussed elsewhere he decided to explore the island further than they had gone in the 48 hours since they arrived. He grabbed a machete from the encampment and headed towards the cliff that blocked one end of the beach. He hacked a path through the dense vegetation away from the beach, moving parallel to the rocky outcrop that formed the cliff until he felt the land begin to rise and then cut back towards the lagoon, still climbing. Eventually he moved out into clearer ground and got a shock; sitting part way down the spine of rock was what looked like a concrete gun emplacement covered in creepers. The island had obviously been occupied during WW2 when Fiji, Samoa and New Caledonia had been held by the Allies. Intrigued, he approached the structure and hacked a path in through the door and looked inside. The building was empty except for vegetation and accumulated rubbish, some of it probably relatively recent as witnessed by graffiti indicating that
'I love Julia's big dick up my ass'
'Rob 8/11/22'
Julia had obviously agreed as underneath she had penned her own declaration the following day.
'I love fucking Rob'
'Julia 8/12/22'
Crichton smiled and wondered if they had fucked here? Even graffiti was LGBTQ+ these days... or perhaps Julia wasn't trans but just liked pegging Rob. However, if the lovers had got in here 2 years ago then the vegetation had grown back very quickly.
He looked out through the gun slit looking back towards the beach he had just come from and could see Tanya pulling the life raft up from the water as Lance and Chloe came down the sand to help her unload. He prayed that Nadia's case had been brought back as it would end one point of friction.
He looked in the opposite direction and saw that the island turned sharply left towards the north-east and he had to crane his neck to follow the shore. He stepped outside and walked to the edge of the cliff and looked along both shores and realised that this end of the island was shaped like a wedge of cheese with the rock outcrop at the point of the wedge and the shore and lagoon where they had landed running north-west. The reef was more fragmented to the east which was likely affected by waves from the prevailing trade winds from the south-east. That side of the headland would have also given an easier passage through the reef to bring in the building materials and other supplies to create the gun emplacement; the lee of the rocky outcrop providing some shelter for an anchorage for the boats carrying the supplies. Crichton's nautical experience told him that it would also be a way in for any visiting boats, be they transiting yachts or local fishing boats. It would also be the logical point for anyone to create more permanent structures if this island was ever inhabited since WW2.
He decided to go down and see if his hypothesis was correct. He started back along the trail he had created and carried on past the point at which he had turned up the slope. He hacked a new path to his right following the slope down until he felt he was on level ground and then turned back along the flank of the rock, eventually reaching the beach which was much narrower and steeper than the one on the other side of the cliff. He reasoned that any structures would have been built reasonably close to the beach but the vegetation was so dense that you would need to be next to them to see them. Crichton walked a few metres north and then cut a trail into the jungle hoping to find signs of a clearing. After he had gone about 50 fruitless metres he stopped and retraced his steps and repeated the process 3 more times before striking lucky on the 5
th
occasion.
He found a vegetation infested concrete building of similar vintage to the gun emplacement, slightly larger than the size of a shipping container. It was situated in what had once been a clearing as witnessed by a number of stumps where trees had been felled but had now been mostly reclaimed by the jungle. The door, which was made of metal, was still intact but the wooden windows were rotten and hanging off their hinges and he could feel the crunch of glass underfoot as he approached one to peer inside. He was disappointed to see no visible signs of recent habitation but did notice that the ceiling appeared to be intact and the floor was reasonably dry. Vegetation had re-colonised inside the room but he could see another door presumably leading into an adjacent room. He made his way to the external metal door and found the handle and hinges to be very stiff but eventually forced it open. The closer inspection confirmed there was little evidence of recent occupation and no graffiti, so Julia and Rob had apparently not made their way here for a bit of transgender topping, or had not recorded it if they did! He made his way to the wooden internal door which was reasonably intact despite the heat and humidity, unlike the window frames. Crichton again had to force it open and was instantly aware of the strong smell of stale sea water and rotting fish emanating from the assortment of fishing gear, lines, floats and nets that littered the space.
The gear seemed reasonably new and Crichton surmised that locals from other islands would probably store gear here and then stay here while they fished the local waters when it was not cyclone season. That meant they would probably be back in about 4 - 5 months giving some hope they could be rescued, so long as they survived for that long.
He saw another door at the far end of the room and scrambled past the fishing gear to open it. The room contained two old bunk beds, either left over from WW2 or brought in by the fishermen to make their stay slightly more comfortable. He retraced his steps and stepped back out into the clearing, pulling the door closed behind him and forced a path around the structure. It seemed to be in reasonable repair despite the gaping windows and Crichton thought it would provide better protection against the next cyclone or storm than the flimsy awnings they had constructed for shelter.
Chapter 26
Nadia was lying under the awning of her shelter as she looked out at Lance, Chloe and Tanya removing the last items from the life-raft and was glad to see that they had bought her case back this time. She smirked as she remembered Tanya's contemptuous comment about 'split crotch panties' as, little did the beautiful coloured girl know it actually contained her 'toys', one of which was a double ended dildo that she hoped to get the opportunity to use on the teenager. She was starting to feel physically better as the pain killers kicked in and the copious amounts of fresh water that Chloe and Lance made her drink flushed through her system. She still felt feverish but that could possibly be to do with her memories of the big black cock that had forced her open like no man before.
Despite her interest in having sex with Tanya, the idea of her consorting with a
negr
had always been anathema to her and she had always stipulated that her leading men could never be a black man. She had turned down roles if she knew that the director liked to cast non-whites in his films and even walked out on a film where the original white male lead fell ill and was replaced by a black actor early in filming. The irony was that the actress who replaced her got an Oscar and made a pointed acceptance speech about racism playing a part in her triumph.
