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First off, I didn't wash up on the fucking island in a survival suit. I arrived in style on a life raft. I would have been rescued earlier in some thieving asshole in Hilo hadn't swiped the EPIRB beacon that all life rafts must have. My twin, not older, brother and my father were both lost in the sinking, that is true, but we sure as hell weren't members of any religion based on cocksucking.
I had been on the raft for a week when I opened the canopy to piss and saw the island. I paddled like hell and made it to a small beach. There was a well used trail to the top of the cliff, so I tied the boat up and slowly, getting my land legs back, climbed the trail. There was a big, steamy hot spring, and a small cabin just beyond. Smoke was coming out of the chimney and I had it made! I went up and knocked, then opened the door. Nobody was home, so I went back to the hot spring and stripped down and got in. There is never enough water on a small boat to keep really clean, and we were six weeks out of Hilo when the boat went down. I got so crusty on the raft that I could smell myself. I wasn't really hungry or thirsty, as the raft had a solar still and enough survival food for quite a while. There was even a bar of soap at the spring, so I scrubbed up and laid down in the water to get warm and soak. I dozed off, and when I woke up I was aware of two things. First of all, I had a hard on poking up out of the water like a periscope, and there was a naked man in there with me. The novelist said in the Archive that I was a hairless boy whose nuts hadn't even dropped yet. That's bullshit. I was almost fourteen and mature for my age. I had started jacking off nearly a year ago and I was already pretty hairy for my age. Anyway, this guy doesn't say a shitting thing; he just kneels down and starts sucking me! No 'Who are you?' 'What are you doing here?' 'What's your name?' or handshake, just a welcome to my island blow job. This wasn't the first one I had ever gotten. My twin brother and me both got hair at the same time, and being horny kids we played games on the boat like strip poker, where the loser had to suck or maybe get his balls squeezed. I had won some of those games and had lost some. We had always spit it out, but this guy horked down my wad like he was the hungriest man on earth. It was only after he had finished that he introduced himself and listened to my story. Afterwards he said that it would be six weeks before the boat would show up, and that we might as well get to know one another better, and then he stuck his dick in my face and suggested that I suck it. No Fucking Way! Only I was a little more polite than that. He juat shrugged his shoulders, picked up my clothes, and motioned for me to follow him to the cabin. As soon as he got there he jumped in and locked the door, leaving me outside freezing my nuts off. He then slid back a little inset in the door and told me that I only had to do one thing to come in and get comfortable. Fuck him, I thought. There was a survival suit in the raft, and I would just put it on, get back in, and haul ass. I knew I was close to the mainland, and I would rather take my chances finding land or a fishing boat than blowing the old bastard. "Shit!" I said aloud when I saw that the incoming tide had carried the raft away. I was really cold by then, so I went back to the hot spring, and eventually back to the house, knocked on the door, and said 'please.' He must have been standing on a stool or something, because the little door slid open and his dick came out. It was short and fat, like the rest of him, and it stank. I sucked him for about fifteen minutes, but he never did get really hard. He finally got a little stiffer, shot his load, and went soft again. My brother's jiz was kind of salty and didn't taste bad, and it jetted into my throat. This guy's wad just kind of oozed out and tasted spoiled or rotten. The asswipe claimed in the Archive that he cherished isolation, and was ther to write a book. What a crock! He only wanted to do two things; talk and suck. He would drone on and on in the same language that he used in the story to the Archive. Nobody on the face of the fucking earth uses words like 'onanist' and 'self-gratification' instead of 'jerking off'. The only time he stopped rattling on was when he shut up lomg enough to blow me again. He did this at least three times a day and swallowed every drop. I never did see him do any writing. He also wrote that he had enough food for the two of us. Damn right he did! He also had two beds and lots of clothes that were way too small for him and the wrong style for an adult. He even had an different toothbrush and another brand of toothpaste. Does that tell you something? I think the cocksucker had a boy-toy out there with him who ran off or died. He wrote that I 'serviced' him every few days. Horseshit! The old fuckhead couldn't get hard. I only blew him the one time in the six weeks that I was there. His description of nutting me was more or less accurate. He did jab me in the ass with a hypo just as I came, but I was awake, tied to the bed, and screaming my head off when he took the vice-grips to my balls. A boat came and got him the next day after him telling me that he would be back in a month. I hurt so fucking bad then that I couldn't even get out of bed. I was up and about a few days later, and a week after that I felt pretty good except that my nuts were mushy and dead. One thing though, I got horny as hell afterwards and I jacked off every day. A week later I saw a fishing boat and I signaled it with a mirror. Dad had made sure that my brother and me knew stuff like that. I never told the boat crew or the people at the embassy what he had done to me, as I didn't know how well connected he was in Chili and I just wanted to get home. I got all of my dad's estate, which paid for surgery to implant falsies in my bag and for hormone therapy. I quit school and got a job on the docks, and nobody knows I'm nutless except for my doctor. My granddad had been extremely wealthy, and he had set me up with a trust fund that paid most of my living expenses. I get the rest of it in a lump sum when I turn thirty. That's three billion with a B dollars. The asshole says he's back on the island with his thirteen year old son. He probably has a boy there, and I know what he's doing to him, but I'll guarran-goddamn-tee-ya that it's not his kid. No way in hell could he get it up long enough to make a kid. He said that he wonders what became of me, well, he's about to find out. I'll have the money soon, and then I'll start paying him back for what he did to me, and I'm here to tell you, baby, that's going to be real sweet. ______________________________________________________________________ There may have been other visitors to the island. I would like to hear their stories.
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