Waves - THE CASTAWAY

Your whole body aches, at least the parts of it that don't burn. You're not sure if the pain hits you before the sound of waves crashing behind you, but those are the first two things you sense. The rest of you remains bathed in the comforting blackness that has swallowed your being. You remember fire... lots of fire. The waves have begun to lap against your feet. You're more than willing to let it wash you out to sea.

"Hey, I think there's another one!" A distant voice shouts.

You feel yourself being dragged out of the surf moments later. You're flipped onto your back and to open your eyes. The sky overhead is the purest cloudless blue you've ever seen. The sun blasts down from out of eyesight, but the brightness is enough to hurt your eyes.

"She's alive! We've got another one!" The voice shouts from just out of view. You try to turn your head toward it but before you can the owner kneels into your vision. A messy ginger bob hangs down into your view, surrounding a pale face plastered with dirt and sand. She smiles down at you as best she can.

"You're gonna be okay, just stay calm." You pick out the soft lilt of an accent to her voice... Scottish if you had to guess.

You try to ask her where you are, but you just about manage to croak the "wh" before she covers your mouth.

"We're shipwrecked. Don't try to talk, you're dehydrated."

She's wearing what was probably at one point a very elaborate emerald dress, it looks antique. History book antique. It's torn and tattered in the places where it still looks like a dress, but she's torn away the sleeves to free her arms and wears the bodice loose enough to maintain range of motion. You can't help but stare down her top as she leans over you and checks you for injury. Her chest is small, but she doesn't seem to have a pound of fat anywhere on her.

Another girl appears behind her. This one is still trying to keep her powder blue outfit close to intact and dress-like. She hands the redhead a flask and it's pressed to your lips. You take careful, sips. You want to drain the thing but the girl leaning over you forces you to drink slowly.

"Slow, slow. It's for your own good idiot." She chides.

The new girl fidgets as she watches you. This one has a muted look in comparison to the other's forwardness. She has long brain hair styled somewhat poorly and a freckled face that seems to lack anything noteworthy about it. Even so, she isn't bad looking in the bookwormy sense and her plump chest speaks to you on a very specific level.

You finally manage to sit up and clutch your pounding head. Your own dress hangs wetly around you, pure white and almost resembling a... wedding dress?

"I think she's the one the party was for." The brunette offers.

The redhead scoffs "Great, another well-educated first-class passenger. Maybe this one's smart enough not to set herself on fire."

You turn "Who-?"

The brunette squeaks "Sorry! Sorry! My name is Marianne, call me Mary, this is my serving girl-"

The redhead whips around and shoots a glare that you can feel without seeing.

"Sorry! My former serving girl, Anne."

You greet them and tell them honestly that you remember your name but not much else as they help you to your feet. Your legs immediately buckle. You get lead back to their camp half-carried by Anne. Along the way they ask you about what you remember, you answer semi-honestly. You tell them fire, lots of fire.

"You may have been hit in the head while you were in the water, that or it's traumatic repression. Either way, you should check in with me once you get settled in." Mary spouts. She seems excited to meet you and for everything you say she seems to have some medical answer to. Compared to Anne who rarely interjects anything but the occasional raunchy joke. You spend most of the trip hanging onto the redhead anyway, the smell of sea salt and sweat pouring off of her and her skin comfortingly warm against you. When you feel your cock twitch you're thankful that you're wearing a billowing dress.

You're greeted by another girl before you're at their camp. A caramel skinned girl with black hair that she kept in a pixie cut short enough that you couldn't grab it. She takes you from Anne and lifts you easily into a bridal carry, making your heart jump into your throat. She carries you the rest of the way wordlessly while Marianne introduces the new girl for you. She uses the name Carla and does her best to politely explain that Carla doesn't speak a word of English. When you look expectantly into Carla's eyes, she nods.

You arrive at camp like this near evening, Carla carrying you and the two girls trailing trying to speak for her.

One girl with chocolate skin sits near a campfire winding rope out of threads, a cloud of fluffy hair seeming to climb every which way out of her head. Seated next to her is another girl with the palest skin you've ever seen and long black hair to match. She makes conversation with the dark-skinned girl while twining the rope the other girl is making into anything she thinks might be useful.

Another girl has set a closed chest against a tree and is trying to bash the lock with anything she can get her hands on, her long blonde hair whips around as she does so.

The small-framed girl with a mop of brunette hair ferries the finished items from the two girls at the campfire to a pitiful shelter that's been built. As she does she gives the blonde a wide berth.

And lastly, standing at the campfire and trying to cook with a confused and scared look on her face is a girl seemingly of Asian descent with her long black hair tied behind her. You notice telltale burn marks at the hem of her outfit.

You consider having some of what she's cooking, but her food looks suspect and hunger doesn't even enter your mind. You tell the girls that you're exhausted and Carla takes you to the pitiful shelter. You collapse onto a pile of leaves and pass out.

You're woken up by the trickle of morning light into the shelter. The rest of the girls are still sleeping for now. You step outside and look around. Their campsite is shoddy, not even close to good enough to last long term. You remember hearing that each girl has a duty to work on, you should spend the day helping one of them. You feel your balls churn. Well, maybe more than just help.

You could help Anne look for food, there's always a need for more and you'd be all alone together.

You could help Marianne study the surrounding wildlife, and also have her give you a doctor's visit.

You could go hunting with Carla, you do have a favor to pay her back.

You could help the dark-skinned girl make the shelter, and maybe test the beds while you're at it.

You could help the pale girl make tools, you'd have most of the camp to yourself.

You could help the blonde girl with... whatever she's doing, she'll probably be pretty grateful.

You can help the small-framed girl with odd jobs, who knows what could happen?

Or you could help the Asian girl with her cooking, you have a thing or two to show her.