On the Island of Lesbians…

Kathina Cross awoke to a soft knock at her bungalow door. Here eyes opened softly before groaning about how early it was. She stretched and grunted before sitting up, smacking her lips. The rasps at the door come again followed by a woman’s voice.

“Um, Kathina? I’m sorry if you were sleeping, i brought your breakfast, fresh Mango with honey drizzle… I can leave it at your door if…” she doesn’t get at opportunity to finish her sentence as the door opens to show Kathina dressed in a bikini top and a deep purple sarong around her hips, complimenting her gothic style hair, long silky black and a single streak of similar purple, though the purple is beginning to fade from time.

Kathina looks at the mousy young woman at her door, thin frame, halter top, short shorts and large wire frame glasses, smudged and hastily cleaned, likely with her own shirt. “Jane.” She says plainly looking at her fellow hurricane survivor. On the isolated island resort during a women’s retreat the hurricane hit and knocked out the antenna to contact help. Now Kathina and twenty four other women were awaiting rescue. It’s been three weeks, making today, May 12th 1998.

Jane folds her lips inward and tries not to address the growing rumors about Kathina. The reason she was placed in charge of the island despite being only eighteen. The gothy teen definitely had the attitude for leadership but there were rumors growing about another reason why even the hotel manager backed down when Kathina took command. Jane’s eye flick reflexivly toward Kathina’s Sarong hoping to catch even a fleeting glimpse to confirm or deny…the presence of a cock.

Kathina opens the door further and steps aside, wordlessly inviting Jane inside. Once inside Kathina closes the door and comments, “I’ve never gotten room service before. Rations are getting low, honey isn’t exactly abundant on the island. Why are you here Jane?”

Jane’s shoulders tense, she didn’t think her ruse would be discovered so quickly, Kathina was clearly clever for her age. “I..just thought I’d bring our leader her breakfast today…hoping to be more… um… usedul?”

Kathina stares at her for what feels like forever, studying her before sitting down at her table and inviting Jane to sit across from her. “Fine. Feed me. By hand.”

Jane freezes and blinks a couple times “Feed you…like…pick up pieces and just…”

“Yes. Push pieces of honeyed fruit into my mouth like a useful servant.” Kathina doesn’t even begin pretending to sugarcoat the concept. And wait’s for Jane’s response.

Jane begins warring with herself at the implications of feeding of leaving. If she agrees, she becomes Kathina’s bitch, despite being at least five years older than her. But if the rumors are true… Jane with be the direct servant of the only woman on the island with the ability to reproduce with them. On an Island of lesbians, a dick-girl would definitely be the queen.