The wind knocked Paul over before he could pull the sail down. Jeff grabbed Paul's arm with his long slender fingers and pulled him toward him into the cabin below. "Forget it, Paul," Jeff said, as he carefully led Paul down the steps which were awash with the steady pounding rains, "it's not worth it now."
Jeff sat Paul down next to Steve who was awakening from a drunken stupor. "Hey," Steve lazily said, rubbing his large hands over his tanned face and Roman nose, "what the heck's going on up there?" He tossed back his long blonde hair and looked up at Jeff.
"It's a storm, you dickhead!" Jeff spouted at him, the veins popping in his temples. Jeff's full lips quivered as he ran his hands through his thick dark hair and then across his sculpted t-shirted chest. He looked down at his long bare toes and watched as the sleeting waters danced across them, in this small cabin lit only by a battery powered latern. The storm and night skies made it nearly impossible to see much else.
Paul cowered on the small couch pulling his long legs and big bare feet towards his chest. He shivered in his white slacks and navy blue t-shirt. He rubbed the slight bump on his shaven head with his long contoured fingers. His blue eyes looked up at Jeff and Jeff knew instinctively what Paul was thinking.
"It'll stop soon," Jeff said assuringly, "it has got to."
The three self-taught sailors huddled in the cabin, and began to silently pray that there small yacht would survive this most violent Pacific ocean storm.
Bang! Bang! BANG!
The first noises coincided with the vessel's crashing and bouncing off what sounded like a large rock or boulder. The last sounded like a loud bomb had went off on the deck. Jeff looked up the stairway. The sail had completely fallen.
One good thing, and perhaps the only good thing at the time was that the boat had now apparently crashed ashore.
Paul looked at Jeff. "Do you think we should try to leave the boat now."
"No-no," Jeff said with hesitation in his voice. "We are beached. Where? I don't know. But let's at least wait until the storm dies off."
Hours later the three men emerged from the wreckage of their yacht to access the damage, and also to see where they were. Dawn had just arrived and so they took quick advantage of the welcoming daylight.
"Good God!" Jeff said. "It's a bloody mess up here!" He was about to step further when he yelled down to Paul. "Toss me up my docksiders. Do not walk barefoot up here!"
All three 30-ish men walked slowly off the boat and onto the white sands, in their boat shoes. They looked back at the yacht in disbelief, and then looked forward at the island.
It was a lush place. Beyond the white sands, were thick green palm and cocoanut trees and even some oak trees.
"Where the hell do you think we are?" Steve asked.
"I have absolutely no clue," Jeff answered, his dark eyes almost tearing, but beginning to reflect the burgeoning sunshine. The storm was over, and welcoming warm and somewhat balmy weather was approaching.
"BEEBA!"
"What the fuck?" Steve stopped moving forward up the shore. He looked into the thick forest. All of the men froze.
Paul looked at Jeff. "A woman's voice?"
"BEEBA!" the wild cry came again.
"Beeba?" Steve asked. "Natives?"
Then the men saw them. They were nearly twenty in number. And they were women.
Long-legged, tanned, shapely, full-breasted women. That was plain to see right away. And they wore short white tunic-like skirts around their waists. Their thick long shiny hair, some blondes, some brunettes, was pulled back and tied at the tops of their heads into one long sweeping tail. Their cheekbones reigned high, their vivid eyes sparkled and were self-assured. Their breasts were full and round and totally naked and in view. They appeared to need little or no support to keep them from relaxing into a droop. These women had tits!
"Holy fucking tit-factory!" Steve grinned and salivated.
Jeff and Paul did not display the same sexual excitement at the sight of the women, though Paul did say, "they are specimens, but what the hell…?"
"Yeah," Jeff agreed, "who are they? Where are we?"
The women got closer and now the men could see that the women also had what appeared to be small animal skin pouches hanging on the sides of their tunics. The women smiled amazingly bright and white teeth at the men. Their eyes were vivid and bright and their faces, albeit lovely to the men, were filled with a fierce ecstasy. They looked at the men just as if they had just found long-sought hidden treasures.
"Beeba!" a raven-haired woman exclaimed with a enormous smile at Steve, as she stroked his face with her long finger-nailed hand.
Steve smiled from ear to ear and leaned back showing his swimmer's body in his muscle t-shirt and beige walking shorts. The woman and some of the others laughed and looked him over from head to toe. Their looks lingered on his docksider shoes.
Steve laughed, "you ladies never saw shoes before, eh?" He took one off and showed it to the raven-haired beauty. "See?"
The women murmured, not looking at all at the shoe Steve removed, but at his long-toed high-arched size 12 bare foot. Steve chucked and turned to look at Paul and Jeff. "Feet? They like feet!" Steve slipped the docksider back on.
By now the other women were surrounding the men and beginning to touch and feel the men's arms, shoulders and chests.
"Okay, okay ladies," Steve said with hands raised, "let's not get carried away! You ---"
Before he could finish five women were surrounding him, just as the others were feeling Jeff and Paul, beginning to pinch and prod and tickle their rib cages, their legs, their butts and genitals.
"Mmmm, beeba!" the women exclaimed as they explored the men.
All three men began to fight in earnest to get away from the molestation. What may have seemed like it could be a pleasurable thing in fantasy now seemed quite frightening given the scary situation they had just come through, the storm, and being washed onto a strange – very strange – island!
Jeff noticed one of the blonde beauties dipping two of her satiny fingers into her tunic pouch. He looked down to see a whitish powder on her fingers. Without warning it was in his mouth and he had absorbed whatever it was. The same happened to Steve and Paul.
The women stood back and looked at the men's crotches, still covered by their clothing. Erections! Full and long and hard as could be! And almost in an instant! The men were also looking down at their crotches.
Steve looked at Jeff and Paul and said, "I have to admit, I was kind of getting hard to begin with, but this is the hardest cock I think I have ever had in my life!"
"Mmmmm, beeba!" various women said over and over again as they quickly bound the men's wrists together in front of them, with soft bamboo binding. Then they secured the tied wrists with another cord around the men's waists. There was enough slack on this cord to pull the men forward and into the deep thick brush awaiting ahead.
Jeff shook his head and blinked his eyes as he surveyed his bondage as well as Steve and Paul's. "What the…? What was in that powder? I feel incredibly strong, and yet totally helpless….what the hell?"
The women laughed and the blonde one standing on his left covered his mouth, then waved her finger in front of him. She wanted silence.
The women flanked the men sides, front and back, as they led them deeper into the island. As they marched, the men appeared understandably frightened, shocked and intrigued all at once, their brows furrowed and eyes narrowed at their situations, all the while their hard cocks had not lost any rigidness at all. 'A form of Viagra?' Jeff thought.
There were sounds ahead, getting more distinct and much louder as they moved further ahead. Paul looked at Jeff and quietly said, "men?" He heard the sound of men. Yes, it sounded much like men. The sound of men…laughing.
Steve sighed loudly and long, "ohhh, shit!"
"What?" Jeff asked.
"I – I don't want to say, I – "
A woman poked Steve in the ribs, and another poked Jeff. "Beeba shush!"
The message was clear: be quiet men!