Island 1

Synopsis

Explore an uninhabited island, utilizing a basic map that gradually gets uncovered. Interact with the women that stranded alongside the MC, build a harem, and uncover the strange background behind this unmarked spot on the map.

Also smut. Lots and lots of smut with wet and willing tomboys.

[Waifus are prebuilt... but they are still subject to change, wink wink.]

[Please take a moment to read the Rules. Its an exceptionally short read.]

-x-X-x-

"Two flights away from retirement."

Those five words immediately let him know there was trouble. Adjusting the backrest of the co-pilot seat, the young man groaned. Nothing he did now would make the chair feel comfortable and there was a long flight ahead of them.

"Did you have to say that?" he asked the main pilot. "That's what we younglings call a 'death flag'."

The older man next to him, Marvin Vandire, let out a deep laugh. In his pressed, white uniform he looked all around proper. A white man in his late sixties, he had been in active flight duty longer than most, a fact that only recently had started to show. It was no wonder then that he was going to retire soon.

"Enjoy the time with me that you have," the older pilot said. "Next time we sit in a cockpit together, you'll be in this seat…"

"...Alex."

"You mean like every other time?" he asked. "Or are you starting to get forgetful?"

"There's nothing quite like the last flight as a pilot in learning," Marvin promised. A voice from the speakers took his attention for a moment. "Fuel tanks showing green. All systems ready and on standby," said in a casual voice. The standard protocols were basically part of his muscle memory.

Relaxing a little bit, the co-pilot looked around. The cockpit was like that of most private planes of medium size. One of the reasons why Marvin had remained in active duty for so long, besides a love for the air, was their employer.

A patch with the acronym S.o.O.W. was sewn into the chest piece of both of their uniform. The letters stood for 'Society of Olympic Women'. It was a UN sponsored organization, focused on providing additional opportunities for women around the globe. Sometimes, he wondered if someone from a rather backwards country had named it. There was a reason they kept the extra o in there.

Unflattering acronym aside, the S.o.O.W. was a good employer for the two of them. Marvin had worked for them for decades and was only now being replaced. Alex was that replacement. He liked this workplace. Sure, sometimes being one of the few men around was like walking on eggshells, but most of the time all the athletes he was ferrying around either ignored him or just treated him like a normal human being.

'I wonder if Jane will invite me out for a drink after I get my license? Been a while since we went out… Sofia should be around too… not sure if we should bring Selana though, that's always asking for trouble.'

"Roger that," Marvin finished up and grabbed the control stick. "Seriously though, you can't tell me you're not excited."

"I am very excited," Alex assured. "Which is exactly why I don't want to crashland. I've got a whole life ahead of me."

"A life in the air," Marvin swooned, as the machine slowly rolled forwards. "In this wonderful plane. Guess you never thought you'd have something like this to yourself?"

"Definitely not." Alex checked the instruments around him one more time. Once they were on the airstrip, it was either takeoff or a fine and Alex did not care for giving his employer a reason to fire him just when he was about to get a new contract.

Like the position he currently held, the promotion was guaranteed to him by the stipend contract he had signed after the first year of flight school. He had impressed back then with his…

…sheer physical showcase. As an olympic organization, the S.o.O.W. had been biased towards a pilot that had a proper athletic history themselves. They also would have preferred a woman, but affirmative action did not provide everything. Therefore, Alex got the position. He still had the bulk from back then too.

As he thought back on his academy years, the plane was cleared for lift-off. The weather conditions were optimal, although the flight would be long. They were going all the way from France to Florida with 15 passengers on board. 12 of the world's greatest female athletes, the S.o.O.W.s gym and PR managers, and a sports reporter that had managed to get herself in to make a documentary.

As a man in his mid-twenties, Alex couldn't help but think about them wantonly for a moment. All of them were in the prime of their life, all of them were at the peak of physical fitness, and none of them looked anything short of gorgeous.

The thought was quickly chased away. Not for a presence of shame whatsoever. Alex socialized with the athletes regularly. They, like him, were constantly on the move and he was their way to move in most cases. Consequently, they spent time in the same hotels and Alex certainly had a previous experience or two with bored, nubile athletes.

That being said, he had a job to do right now. He was not just a good pilot, he was one of the best. He was certain of that much. His entire life had been leading up to it. After all, he had…

…a family to impress. Alex came from money - old and powerful money. So old and powerful that Alex wasn't entirely sure what his parents were doing to earn their wealth to this day. Stock trading, doubtlessly, but one did not have a family estate with an English-style mansion at the heart of it by trading stocks.

If he had less siblings, Alex may have been told. As the youngest of seven, however, and with rather traditional parents, his chance of seeing any of that wealth were extremely slim. He remembered the day his father had broke the news to him… and the heavy expectations placed on his shoulders.

"You're meant to be great, son, so go and excel."

Alex shook off the memories and focused on the sky ahead. They were high above the ground now and still gaining altitude. "All of the problems down there are turning smaller and smaller, aren't they?" Marvin asked.

"Yeah," his co-pilot answered and took a deep breath. This was their little ritual.

Skillfully, Marvin tilted the plane, balancing out the north-east winds of the day. Alex checked the instruments. "Reaching recommended altitude in 15… 14… 13…" The countdown progressed and Marvin slowly tipped the plane. The pressure stabilized and they were on smooth sailing. "Auto-pilot engaged."

"A smooth start, a bit too smooth for my last proper flight," Marvin complained.

"Can you stop collecting death flags?" Alex requested.

Marvin showed the younger man a smile. He was definitely doing it just to tease him. "Anything you are going to do in Miami?"

"Enjoy the hot weather?"

"Besides that. It's a big city. They probably have a shop related to that weird hobby of yours."

"Wilderness survival is not a weird hobby, its a wise investment of my time, especially with all the jinxes you are putting in our way today."

"Jinxes!" Marvin laughed. "So you do know that word."

Alex gave the pilot confused side-eye. "Why wouldn't I know that word?"

"You youngsters always forget words and replace them with something else. 'Jinxes' become 'death flags', 'coloured people' become 'people of colour', 'kitchen appliances' become 'strong and independent women'..."

"Marvin!" Alex warned his teacher, even if there was no seriousness to his tone.

Marvin just laughed loudly.

The flight continued and the smalltalk died down. Soft music was put on, quiet enough not to distract but loud enough to break the monotony of engine buzzing. Minutes turned to hours. Below them was the atlantic. Endless amounts of water, curved by the shape of the earth, and the sky above, with only the occasional message on the air traffic frequencies to keep them company.

Alex was entranced by it all. He had always been. His mind remained focused the entire flight. Marvin did not quite have that energy of youth anymore and had his co-pilot hand him the thermos with coffee every hour or so.

"Hey, want to see Bermuda?" Marvin suddenly asked.

"That'd take us like 20 minutes off-route."

"We do have the fuel for it."

"...We do have the fuel for it," Alex agreed, "but it is not our fuel, plus the weather there seems to be bad."

Marvin did not have to check on the data, it was already open on his terminal. "Just some minor turbulence, been dealing with that for over fourty years." He tilted the plane northwards.

"As your co-pilot, I formally protest," Alex stated. This time, he was fully serious. "Its not our fuel, its not our time, and its unnecessarily dangerous."

"What are they going to do, fire me?" Marvin just dismissed with a wave. "It'll be fun."

Pressing his lips together, Alex suppressed further comment. By seniority, Marvin had the right to make the call. By sentimentality, Alex did not have it in him to deny the old man the wish. The plan was already in motion and a kerfuffle in the cockpit was worse than a detour.

To Marvin's credit, he did handle the turbulences masterfully. The old pilot was looking wide awake, dealing with the incoming weather data like only someone that had been flying since before modern instruments could. "There she is!" he called out, when the island came into view to the north.

"There she is," Alex agreed in a dry tone and checked their altitude. They had dropped quite a bit. "Now, turn around, please?"

Marvin smirked and seemingly wanted to disagree, but a check on the fuel convinced him otherwise. "Can't blame an old man for some fun on his last flight." With that said, he turned southwards.

"Why aren't we going back up?" Alex asked. They were less than halfway up where they should be and slowly dropping further.

"Turbulence. Should pass in a few kilometres." Marvin stated. "Been through these before, don't worry about it."

Alex did worry about it. The co-pilot chair was suddenly uncomfortable again. Marvin's smile slowly dropped, his eyes dashing to the pressure measurements over and over again. "I'm going to make a distress call, just in case," Alex stated. Marvin just nodded.

The red phone was not something Alex liked to grab, but it was better to be safe than sorry. It was weird to hold a phone with a cord in these days. Even weirder was it to only hear the static crackling of interference.

"I'm not getting throu-"

Alex was interrupted mid sentence by an impossibly intense gust hitting them from the side. The safety belts kept them seated, as all but the most essential instruments shut down. "Shit, shit, shit!" Marvin cussed for the first time in the three years Alex had worked under him. "Me and my big fucking mouth!"

The old pilot ripped the control stick back in an attempt to gain altitude. It was direly necessary, as the sideway gust was gradually turning the plane to the side. It was also the mistake that doomed them.

Women screamed in the back. Even hardened athletes would scream when the entire word was turned upside down. The turbulence they had been flying under rammed into the bottom of the plane, moving the private machine of steel and science like it was a leaf in the wind. Alex had never heard of anything like it. Had they drifted into a forming hurricane?

A question unanswered. Marvin was slamming emergency measures, trying desperately to regain control of the plane. It was futile. There was a terrible rattle, then a sharp, shredding sound. Through the glass panes of the cockpit, Alex could see the left wing of their plane tumble through the air. The sky was a beautiful blue. None of this made sense.

The nose of the plane tilted towards the water.

"I'm sorry," Marvin muttered.

Alex bit back the, 'I told you so.' "It's been an honour."

The intensity of the impact made Alex pass out.

Water, warm and yet harsh, made him snape to wakefulness again. His head pounded. His heart pounded. His arms and legs were dangling. His stomach rested uncomfortable on a shoulder. "Stay awake!" he heard the voice of the old pilot. "Stay - the fuck - awake!"

Alex tried.

Blackness claimed him.

In the nothingness, Alex saw himself. A chain of himself, from the day he had been born to this very day. 'Life flashing before my eyes?' he wondered and beheld himself.

The latest in the chain was quite the image of a man. Alexander was a tall man, standing at 1,87 metres. His skin was tan from the time he spent outdoors during his survivalist expeditions or just wandering around the cities during their short stays there. He was broader than most men, in addition to his above average height, making him an impressive figure. Green eyes sat in a handsome face, contrasting nicely with his dark hair.

A gash at the side of his head was a blemish too intense to ignore.

"So that's how I die, huh?" he muttered to himself, his ephemeral presence touching the wound that had knocked him out. He wished he would have been more useful that he… somehow could undo that damage.

Before his mental eye, the flesh knit itself back together.

Blackness spat him back out.

Alex barely managed to suppress his inhale. He was in the middle of the water. Looking around, he found himself among drifting pieces of wreckage of the plane. Very little of the wreckage, he found. Barely more than the cockpit tumbled down the water by him. Two bodies were nearby.

One was Marvin. The old pilot was bleeding crimson red into the clear, warm water of the tropic. A terrible wound in his stomach betrayed that something had sliced him open. Eyes managed to, despite the salt and exhaustion, focus on Alex one final time. A light smile twitched on his lips, then the spark of life left him.

The conflicted emotions of being saved and being put in this situation by the now dead mentor had to wait. Alex instead focused on the second person. Hanging in the water was one of their passengers. A pale woman that he barely recognized as the gym manager.

What mattered was that she was alive, caught up in a safety belt. With the last of his breath, Alex swam over and helped her out. Salt burned in his eyes, but adrenaline kept him calm. She gave him a thankful nod, that was about all they could manage, before desperately paddling for the surface.

It was not far away. Bright sunlight guided them, shining through the blue like a promise of life. First Alex, then the dark-haired woman broke through the calm waves and took a swift breath.

"What the-" she started to ask, but swallowed the question.

Now was not the time.

They both set eyes on an island not too far from them. Blood still pumping with adrenaline, they swam. Alex deliberately kept it slow. The woman was fit, but she also had curves as far from hydrodynamic as the human body could be.

After a twenty minute swim, they dragged themselves ashore. The exhaustion Alex felt in his limbs was stress and adrenaline more than genuine fatigue. He dropped into the gorgeous sand of the beach. The tropical paradise before him was stained only by the sight of the sinking wreck and the event that had made it.

Slowly, he even his breath and so did his companion. The woman was one of the fifteen passengers. Her black hair dried swiftly under the pleasant sunrays, reflecting on her glistening skin. Her breasts were huge and firm, her midriff nicely defined and only by the time his gaze wandered over her wide hips did it occur to him that the grey-eyed woman was naked - and so was he. Safe for a few scraps of his socks and the sleeves of his shirt, his clothes were gone.

'Did they get torn that badly during the impact?' he wondered.

"What - happened?" the woman asked, pulling his eyes back to her. His blood was still pumping, making his survival instincts focus on her red lips. How could they be that red without lipstick?

[Image]

Alex shook his head to get his mind out of the gutter. Now was not the time.

"Marvin - the main pilot - he fucked up… he wanted to take a slight detour and got us into an anomalous weather phenomenon. He tried to fix it, he really did, but…" Alex stopped and gestured out to the sea. "...obviously wasn't enough. I've never even heard of something like that though."

Tess chewed on the inside of her cheek for a few moments, then let out a long sigh. "Well, not like I would believe he wanted to crash. Let's take the miracle that we got out of there unscathed."

Alex blinked a couple of times and reached for his head. His fingers came back wet, but only with the remains of saltwater in his hair. He blinked a couple of times. 'Didn't I…?'

"Are you going to sit there or are we going?" the gym manager asked.

The question pulled Alex out of his confusion. Immediately getting up, he gave her a stoic nod. "Sorry about that. I thought I had hit my head in the water."

"As long as you haven't," she said and gave him a quick once-over. She put a hand on her hips. "You look fine."

"You sound fine," Alex noted. "Professional training?" As a pilot, he was trained for stress situation like this, it was surprising to have her remain this calm despite the situation.

"Panicking is about as useful to me right now as that giant hot ball in the sky," she answered in a sarcastic tone. "Let's try to find some shade. Then we can plan our next move."

"Shade and water," Alex agreed. The two of them started moving immediately.

It definitely could be worse than being stranded with an olympic gym manager. Much as he liked the sight of walking behind her, though, he also had a duty.

"Let me lead," he requested. She looked at him for a moment, then nodded. They were in uncharted territory and while she was no doubt a fit and fairly tall woman, she was still a woman and he was a man of broad build. Best he stepped first into anything worrisome.

As they walked away from the water, he scanned the environment. They were without clothes, that was bad, but the good news was that they had crashed somewhere tropical, so the lack of clothing was only a bother insofar as sunburns were concerned - and potential parasites, admittedly. It was warm, but not too warm.

"We're at least a little lucky," Alex stated, trying to remain optimistic. Beyond the shore there was a dense treeline. Where there were trees, there was cool shade and water could likely be gotten by digging. They wouldn't dehydrate, at least. "Going by the position of the sun and the last time I checked out latitude, we're on the south-western tip of the island."

"Any idea where we are though?" she asked.

To that, Alex had no good news to report. "Somewhere in the Bermuda Triangle."

"...Of course," she said with dry sarcasm. "Let me guess, we lost contact with the world before we crashed?" Alex just nodded. "Fantastic…" She turned back to the shore, scanning the same bits of sand both of them had already scanned four times before. "Let's hope the others made it to shore safely…"

"We had hardy women on board," Alex suggested in a hopeful tone.

"That we did…"

"Alex, by the way."

"Oh, yes… Tess."

They walked and Alex began to construct a map of the area in his head. Knowing where was always important.

[Image]

-x-X-x-

"....Think you got enough energy in you to prioritize the beach?" Alex suggested carefully.

It was the worst idea for their own survival, to stay out there under the brooding sun, but rescue chances for the others decreased rapidly with every passing minute. Him and Tess had, all things considered, gotten away unscathed.

The goth woman slowly nodded. It must have gone through her head as well that this was a terrible idea, but they both dared to hope for the best.

They were smacked by the cruel reality rather harshly.

Swerving northwards exposed them to the sunrays for longer than was healthy. By the time Alex realized that his skin was starting to hurt, Tess was suppressing her sway. He only realized she did that after something like an hour had passed in total. They had marched down a fair stretch of beach, with nothing to show for it whatsoever except exhaustion and thirst.

[Image]

[You lost an additional Action. You are down to 3 for the day.]

"We have to go east," Alex made the pragmatic call. Tess was too affected by the sun to do more than give a weak nod. The remaining adrenaline had been scorched out of their system and now they had to find a place to sit down and fast.

Fast, outside the modern world, was still an hour of marching. Alex was rapidly re-learning just how convenient something as simple as pavement was. The hot sand under his soles made walking more of an exercise than the treadmill. At least that was replaced with sandy soil and then just soil swiftly.

Their initial target was the trees. An objective right on the way became visible soon though. Bushes, bright purple bushes, that looked juicy already from a distance.

Eager for something to eat, the two of them decided to check it out without exchanging a single syllable. It wasn't until they had stumbled up to the plant that Alex was starting to question whether that was wise.

The bushes looked like nothing he had ever seen, either in a book or in person. They were shaped like enormous cabbages, the bulbous berries attached to the rotund centre. They did look sweet, like oversized, semi-translucent blueberries, but they also were entirely alien.

"Should we?" Tess asked, voicing the same doubt.

"We need the energy… but let me do some tests first," Alex stated. He picked one of the berries and rubbed them against a part of his upper arm. The berry juice was sticky against his skin, but left no other sensation. Trying a nibble afterwards, he found it to taste like a particularly watery strawberry. "Should be good."

And it was… adequate.

After all the walking, anything would hit spot, even watery strawberry-esque berries from an odd bush. They both had their fill and went on their way, leaving plenty of berries behind. At least they knew they had some food for now, even if it was unlikely to cover their dietary needs on its own.

[Image]

Refreshed by the berries and after some rest in the nearby trees, the two felt confident to try and scan another segment of the beach. Their path took them north-west.

They knew their limits better this time, especially Tess. The black-haired woman was not afraid to ask for pauses. Really, she seemed not too afraid of anything, which was equal parts pleasant and mildly disappointing. Alex was flattered that she did not regard him as a threat, at least. He must have been trustworthy by his looks.

There was plenty of reason to a fantasize about ravishing her. Every time he looked in her general direction, something about her was jiggling. 'Seriously, what are those tits? F-cups?' he asked himself.

"I'm not going to judge you, but I do notice," Tess drily reminded him of the fact that she had a face above those mountains of sin.

"I'm not going to apologize, because I too notice," Alex responded with a bit of confidence. He had been walking around with a half mast since eating those berries and she most certainly had stared as well. They were two nubile people and he was even more build than she was. Half the time she used him for shade.

Their talk was interrupted when they heard someone shout. Their eyes drifted out to the water and immediately they started to walk towards it.

The worried reaction was defeated by the speed at which the person who had shouted swam towards them. The form was immaculate, both of her stroked and of the body that came out of the water. Lean and yet soft, with wide hips and medium-sized breasts, her torso highlighted by the tanlines of a swimsuit that was no longer there.

The short-haired woman stepped up the beach, as naked as the two of them. She ran a hand through her brown hair and smiled with her bright pink lips. Again, Alex had to wonder how those lips maintained their colour without makeup.

[Image]

"Charlotte," Tess said.

"In the flesh. Can't say this is the swim I expected to be delivered to," the green-haired woman spoke. Alex only noticed her French accent because he knew who had been on the plane - at least when he could put a name to the face. "I went up and down the seaside for a bit, hoping I'd run into anyone."

"Well, it worked," Alex stated in a happy tone. He couldn't say that was the smartest strategy he could think off. Regardless of what he thought, they had found a second person. "And you're just as naked as we are."

"Yeah… which someone is enthusiastic about," Charlotte gave a wink and a nod towards the member that was now pointing straight at her.

"Of course I am," Alex answered in just a bit of a flirtatious tone. Then, he shifted gears and gave the swimmer the breakdown of what had happened. "It's best we stick together for now. The day is getting shorter and we know too little to spread out and do different tasks."

"Authoritative, like your namesake." the french tomboy purred. "I'll trust you to protect me."

Charlotte took half a step forwards. Alex met her in kind. She bit her lower lip. He looked at Tess, who followed the scene was a passive expression. "Let's get moving," Alex stated, before he could be accused of anything improper. His cock may have been hard, but he still had his wits about him and the crash was still at the back of his mind.

He did not know how long he would be able to keep his hands to himself if Charlotte kept being that forward in her signals, but it was past the current point. For now, he wanted to be either further down the beach or back inland.

"It is actually miraculous that you're also unscathed and naked," Alex pointed out.

"Once is a chance, twice is a coincidence," Tess added. "It is still weird that it happened twice."

"I count three," Charlotte pointed out and grabbed Tess' arm. By the annoyed groan that elicited, Alex guessed that this was less about the two being particularly close and more about Charlotte being flirty.

"We swam ashore together," the pilot stated. "Still…" he touched the side of his head. Those unnatural winds on a clear day, the cutting communications, their unharmed arrival at the shore, there were too many coincidences piling up for comfort.

"Still what?" Tess asked.

"I don't know," Alex answered honestly.

"Magic?" Charlotte joked.

Tess rolled her eyes and Alex just walked onwards. Obviously that was ridiculous. Turbulences were nothing new and neither were mysterious plane crashes. "Everything has an explanation," he assured them. "Just feeling a bit woozy from all the sun, I guess."

"Can't have that, you're our… what is the word again Tess?"

"Parasol."

"Right, that."

"You'll have to get closer if you both want shade," Alex told them. He had meant to just make it sound joking, but Charlotte shuddered at the degree of seriousness in there and did as he asked. Tess, rolling her eyes again, followed suit. Granted, since Charlotte just attached himself to his side, the goth was still a half-step away. "We'll get sticky."

"I don't mind getting sticky together," Charlotte said. "Not like there's anything else to do."

Alex was not sure if blue balls were good for walking long distances.

[Image]

-x-X-x-

From that point onward, he was less leading and more guiding. The difference laid in the short-haired brunette that kept herself attached to his side. She obviously enjoyed his glances and the reactions she got out of him by rubbing her breasts against him. "You're playing a really dangerous game," Alex cautioned her. "We don't know how long we'll get stuck out here."

"I like dangerous games, they usually work out for me," Charlotte purred.

"The incarnation of wisdom," Tess remarked drily.

That bit of tenseness put aside, their situation was pretty good. They came across another one of the berry bushes, enough of it on it to feed the three of them, and then headed into a particularly thick part of the jungle.

"No," Alex told Charlotte off when she tried to stay attached to him. "Keep an eye out. A jungle is no place for a careless approach."

For all her teasing, the French tomboy did listen when he was serious.

Once they were inside the forest, Alex would leave the women behind to scout ahead 20 metres or so, then return once she knew the route was clear. So far, the environment appeared to be forgiving, another blessing in their current situation. The insects buzzing about were few and not interested in them, the ground was firm, and there were no signs of predatory or territorial animals around. The worst the survivalist spotted so far was a terrestrial bird the size of a Kiwi. Hardly a danger.

Then, he struck gold.

Alex squeezed himself through a narrow gap between two trees. They form an entrance gate to a little slice of paradise. Seven mighty trees surrounded, as a near continuous wall, a lake of clear water, constantly bubbling up from some kind of underground source. The humidity in this little cage was much higher, causing it to be wreathed in a continuous, gentle, mist.

As if that wasn't enough to make the place attractive, there even was a sizable and pleasantly dry burrow under the roots of a tree. Alex was very careful to look for signs of usage. It appeared it had been created by a series of storms tilting the might jungle tree above just enough for a group of five to find pleasant shelter in there. A group of three certainly fit as well. It even came padded with some sort of pink moss.

No question would they spent the night there.

"You're really good at this!" Charlotte complimented, once she and Tess had been guided to the shelter. She felt around the pink moss. Alex had already assured there were no weird stingers or needles in there. That did not speak to the complete safety of the moss, but tired as they were he was willing to take his chances.

The three of them took the opportunity to drink from the fountain and wash themselves off by splashing the fresh water over themselves. Eventually, they could not remain awake any longer. Tugged away in the safe corner, they let sleep take them.

For as terrible as the event had been, this first day had gone well.

-x-X-x-

Alex awoke.

There were many reasons why he did so.

Loud moans.

Two bodies radiating heat near his.

They had not been this close before.

It was hot.

He opened his eyes.

Charlotte was where he had last seen her, using his shoulder as her cushion.

Tess was not where he had last seen her, the polite distance she had kept replaced by a grinding closeness.

It was hot, hotter than it had been during the day.

Alex slowly realized he needed to stroke his cock. However, his hands had found something else to do. The digits of his large hands were pressing into the pillowy meat of the duo's asses. Tess' fat ass was pure sin. Charlotte's round butt was firm, balanced, and nice to knead in its modest way.

Alex inhaled the mist.

It filled his lungs.

It was hot, burning in a way that reflected in the half-lidded eyes of the women.

They wanted to masturbate, it was clear in every loud moan. Their hands instead glided over his toned form, drawing the contours of his muscles. They tasted his skin like it was ambrosia. Their wet cunts rubbed against his legs, leaving sticky trails. They shuddered. Had they cum already?

Alex drew in a deep breath and just… let the man take over.

Rising up, he rolled over. He was on top of Tess. She smelled… pure. Untouched, virtuous, yet eager to surrender, all of them imbued in the scent that reached him through the fog. He bowed down and gave her pointy, pale nipple a lick. She tasted untasted, virtuous, yet eager to surrender.

She was eager to surrender - to him.

The virgin spread her cunt open for the man. On the bed of pink moss, he glided his cock over her pussy lips a few times, making sure they were both lubricated thoroughly. His noble size was swollen to the hardness of rigid steel by the aroma in the air. It suppressed the bothersome concerns for proper courtship and left behind honest lust.

Penetration was slow, wonderfully slow. The dark-haired submissive went from loud moans to a scream of 29 years of justified wait. Sensitive folds were stretched, made to conform to the man's member. She was trembling and twitching, a sensation so utterly unlike her own fingers building up. He could taste it, the realization of a fragment of her awake mind that she could never go back.

The base of his manhood met her smooth, swollen mons - and she had the climax of her life. Her impossibly red lips were stretched wide open in a scream befitting of a seasoned whore, not of a deflowered virgin. Her hole clung onto him with veneration. It knew that she would taste greater pleasures yet, the wisdom encoded in her genes overpowering that of her mind many times over.

Instinct drove the man. Instinct made him take her waist, the only part of her torso that wasn't thick or wide, and hold it tight. Thrust by thrust, he accelerated, fucking her clamping cunt. Soon the impact of each thrust made her scream turn into a choppy, erotic sound, underlined by the smacking of hips against rippling thighs.

He was pounding her into the moss. She looked good surrounded by pink, this pale, dark-haired, grey-eyed submissive. Writhing underneath him, she managed to remember a single word, sitting at the base of her fantasies. "Master! Master!"

"Master," the other woman mewled in desperate mimicry.

He saw it fit to glance at her. Chasing her own pleasure, she knelt next to them, disciplined enough to watch and yet not disciplined enough to keep her fingers out of her own cunt. She was drooling. Her pink lips looked delicious. Hard, he grabbed her by the back of the head and pulled her in.

She tasted of sin. This harlot was not a virgin, far from it. She loved sex. That, in and of itself, was praisable, but her lack of modesty before meeting her chosen man was not. The man kept on kissing her, dominating her tongue with his, and swat her pert ass in admonishment. She may have been used before, but he would remake her before the night was over.

Pulling the brunette slut over the raven-haired slave, the man and Master had them worship one another in his presence. What else were they to do but please each other for his entertainment? What better use for many women then to have them love him in harmony?

While the experienced tongue of the slut circled the clit of the slave, the man kept on pounding. His cock, aching for release, did not wait for permission. Permission was his to claim, just like this cunt was. Another day, another place, another night, he would claim the womb as well. For today, he was only going to mark it.

Coming in the depths of her tight cunt, the man felt a release that was at once the greatest he had ever felt and yet too little to satisfy. Spurt fort spurt, his enormous load pumped into the slave's depths. Her body knew its purpose and the heat of his seed in her cunt made her overflowing honey explode into a true cascade. The slut lapped it all up, groaning and mewling all the while.

She wanted more.

She did not know her place.

The man grabbed the brunette slut by the throat and pinned her under him in the moss. The bedding was soft, the grip of his hand was not, and she was practically squirting because of that alone. Light green eyes had rolled up, perfectly visible despite the veil of the night and fog. Her entire body was an open book to him, highlighted like marked text.

He bowed down to her ear and growled the only words his instincts cared for, "I own you down to your breath."

The slut nodded eagerly, showing her redeemable side. He slammed into her a moment later. Tight, that she was, too tight for him to ram his entire length into him in one motion. He forced himself in and she spasmed in delight at the pain. She screamed as soon as he let her take in air.

"Master! Master! Master!" the brunette screamed, her veneration now genuine. Her legs wrapped around his waist. His large body kept her frame pinned down. She was so slender, he could see his cock create a soft bulge where it hammered in and out of her. She curled up her ass to let him pound her even deeper.

The cocksleeve knew her way to making herself pleasing to him.

Besides them, Tess quivered and spasmed, the pleasure of her first time still echoing within her. She watched and rubbed her agape cunt, missing the presence of her Master. She would go missing him for a little bit longer.

The man kept using the cocksleeve as she wished to be used. Her body writhed in the confines gave her. Never had she been this limited by a man before, never more put into her place, and never had she been made to cum this hard. This was more than a hook-up, this was what men and women were supposed to do - this was mating.

There was just as little need to measure his endurance the second time around. By the time his cock began to spasm, the cocksleeve was already ecstatic in all senses of the word. Eyes rolled up, drooling all over herself, she reacted to his seed spilling inside him with a silent scream and the digging of her heels into his lower back.

For the first time in her life, she wanted to be bred.

"Not yet," the Master declared.

He pulled out when her legs allowed him to. For all the strength he had, she could still immobilize him if she knew how. For all the strength of the instinct, the vessel containing it was not yet crafted to its demands. The cock, so hard a moment ago, deflated quickly. The man collapsed into the moss between the two spasming women.

And he dreamt.

-x-X-x-

He remembered the way the slut had responded to his voice.

It could always be improved.

A touch of the body's throat, split it into two. They were physically identical, but one was him now and one was him in the morning. A journey of a thousand paces begins with a step.

As the row of bodies faded away, the shapes of two other bodies manifested before him. Tess and Charlotte, as they were called during the dull moments of civilized conducts, had accepted their position. His mark was upon them.

Yet, a single mark was nothing. A connection to a soul was not built in a day and the human soul was sturdy. Whatever he may want to do to them, they would never be his slaves in totality - and that was the joy of it all. Nothing as dull as a reward guaranteed. They would have to choose their submission every day and he would have to give them reasons to keep submitting, to laugh, to live, to love, to raise together.

One step at a time.

To manipulate them in the same detail was beyond him. All he could do was suggest to them a path and see if their instincts took to it. The man's eyes wandered to Tess first.

What untapped potential did he see in her soul?

Such a virtuous soul, for all the faults that awake, mortal minds have, deserve holiness. Her instinct was pointed to the heavens and she mustered it with interest.

Then he turned to Charlotte. The tomboy with her tanlines smiled lewdly. Her instinct had been in control too much but, then again, that could be attractive put into the right paths.

The French tomboy has the making of a vixen. A playful soul is hers and playful she shall remain. For all their tomfoolery, a fox is loyal to their mate. So, the instinct is encouraged in its mischief - as long as they remember their place.

The work is done, the instincts pull back.

The underlying mind settles within reality once more.

The dawn comes.

With the dawn comes a new chance at expanding life.