Warnings: This title contains graphic sexual scenes of domination and submission and capture scenes.
Word Count: 31,368
Vicky, Sizzling Hot Books
"I was happy to see both a strong female Master and a weak male slave here, so there are not just typical stereotypes. Submission Island manages to expand our horizons without going too far."
Then something caught Wendy’s eye as she swore something had moved there on the side of the mountain near those odd-shaped rocks. Did I imagine it? Am I going nuts? She looked closer and it happened again, a glint as if something was reflecting the sun back at her. Are there people here, other survivors?
Despite staring for another few moments, Wendy did not see the glint again and the feeling of being alone crashed in on here. What should I do? Hell, I’m a fucking computer science major, not a survivalist, but I don’t see anyplace to download a survival plan, or email for rescue. I don’t even have my cell, not that it would work in this nowhere.
Then Wendy remembered the one thing she still did have because she could feel it inside her bikini. Slipping her fingers under her brief swimwear, she pulled out the money clip with eight brand new twenties and her Visa card in it.Humm, I guess this isn’t gonna help. No five star restaurants to charge dinner at. The thought of dinner made her stomach rumble so she tried to put food out of her mind since she didn’t have any.
Choosing a spot in the shade of the palms, Wendy began a task she never expected to do; digging Kelly’s grave. With her bare hands she tore at the sand, wondering how deep she could go. She knew the standard depth of six feet, but she couldn’t imagine digging that much with just her hands. Vaguely, she remembered something from high school about islands having volcanic rock not far below the surface.
It was hard sweaty work in the heat, but thankfully there were occasional breezes, before she struck rock less than two feet down. Shaking her head, she worked to expand the hole to accommodate her best friend, wanting her to be comfortable. Comfortable, she’s dead, girl. Get some reality into your silly head.
Finally the hole was ready, but Wendy was not. Digging a hole on a deserted Pacific island she could do, putting her best girl in that hole and covering her up was far more difficult. Slowly walking back the Kelly’s body, she was certain it looked worse than when she left it there. It was the deterioration, imagined or not, which flipped on Wendy’s resolve and she spoke to Kelly again.
“Sorry, Kel, I have to do this, you’d do it for me. I know you would. I can’t watch you decay and get all gross, so I’m letting you rest while I still remember you as my beautiful lover. The way I always want to remember you.” After a brief crying jag, Wendy grabbed under Kelly’s arms and began to drag the body to its grave.
Despite Kelly’s sexy slimness, which she had always maintained, Wendy struggled some getting the body into the grave, and during her efforts Kelly’s face got covered with sand. This required more work with the piece of Lycra skirt to uncover the face of her friend. As she worked, Wendy’s mind was locked in a dilemma.
Her bikini and wrap, should I take them. I mean mine is okay now, but I don’t know how long I’m gonna be here. I might rip mine, and then I’d be naked.
Wendy’s mind now swung to the other side of the situation.
What am I thinking? Stripping my girl before I cover her up, leaving her no dignity. Some friend I am.
The battle raged for a few moments until finally Wendy Jacobs reached down and carefully undressed Kelly Benson. “I’m sorry, Kel, but I may need these more than you will.”
Working quickly to strip the body, Wendy tossed the retrieved bikini and wrap skirt, identical to the one she wore, to the side. Having crossed this threshold, Wendy began to carefully cover the body with the sand and soil from the feet up, leaving Kelly’s face exposed while she thought about last words. It isn’t fair, I shoulda had a chance to tell her this when she was alive. Then it occurred to Wendy what Kelly had always said to her on the numerous times Wendy had felt the need to confess her love to her. It was the perfect way to say goodbye.
“Gonna live it now, rather than say it, for you, Kel.”