Shipwrecked on Futa Island Ch. 03

Mrs. Hart's Futa Spring Discovery

Agatha Hart

I had two daughters with me on the cruise ship, and one of them was giving me an ulcer.

Chantelle.

She was a wild thing. Out of control. You would think a preacher's daughter would be better behaved than her. But she was in this rebellious phase. She called it goth. She kept herself pale, not going outside much, and wore black lipstick and heavy eyeliner and thick mascara. She painted her nails black and listened to this depressing music.

My husband believed it was just a phase, but he was oblivious to what she was getting up to. She wasn't a virgin any longer, and she didn't even have a boyfriend she would marry to make it almost acceptable. She was having sex with older men.

And though most of the people on the cruise were women from all the local churches in our area on a spiritual retreat, there were men on the crew. I had been keeping my eye on Chantelle, making sure she didn't sneak off with one of them.

This was her chance to be filled with the Holy Spirit and repent of her sinful ways. It was never too late for her to stop, but the more sexual immorality she indulged in, the more likely it was that she would destroy the ability to peer bond with her husband.

"I don't care!" a Hispanic woman hissed. I didn't know her. She wasn't from any of the churches participating on the cruise. "My sister disappeared in these waters, and I'm finding out what happened."

How horrible. I'd like to help her, but I had to find my daughter.

"Have you found her yet?" I texted my other daughter Elise.

"Not yet, Mom," she answered after a moment. The ship had WiFi and satellites. It was almost as fast as the internet back home. Which I wasn't happy with. So much opportunity for Chantelle to get up to no good.

She had to be around here somewhere. I glared at all the male crew members I passed. They all gave me innocent grins like they weren't all trying to sneak off with the women of the cruise. Which had happened, sadly. Two married women I knew had given into temptation away from their husbands.

This cruise was turning into a disaster.

I peeked in at the gym and spotted Sam working on the StairMaster. The young woman was one of the good ones. She just had to find the right guy to be her husband. Danielle Murphy was also in here. She was a recent divorcee who had not been so lucky, poor thing. Hopefully, the Lord would steer her to a better man.

I marched out onto the deck. It was night but still quite warm out here on the South Pacific. The stars twinkled overhead while the waters rippled with the moonlight. I looked up and down the railing, thinking of where I could check next.

The engine room? It was off-limits. Just the sort of place that she would sneak into. How could I go home to my husband and tell him I let his daughter be a whore instead of getting closer to god? I glanced up at the heavens.

Lord, I could use a little help here, I prayed.

I marched down the ship towards the stairs that led deeper into the ship when I saw a golden light. I blinked, wondering if there was another ship out on the water. It rushed up fast. I gripped the railing, leaning out. Was it going to hit--

The entire boat shook as the light burst around me. I gasped and tumbled over the railing. I screamed as--

* * *

Birds chirped. Their beautiful song echoed around me. They must be drifting through my bedroom window. "Alex," I groaned. "You left the window open again. The birds..."

I blinked as I opened my eyes to see a palm tree swaying over me. I glimpsed a colorful bird in the thick, green leaves. I shuddered as the sound of surf washing on the beach had me sitting up. The world was getting lighter. To my left, down the beach of white sand, the sun was rising.

I faced south towards the ocean. Blue waves washed up on the shore. A lifesaver lay between me and the water. I blinked at that. I struggled to understand. I had been on the cruise ship when that other ship had...

"No!" I gasped and jumped to my feet, sand spilling off my back and rump.

My naked back and rump.

I stared down at my brown hair spilling around my shoulders and my large breasts swaying naked, the morning sun spilling over the left one. My cheeks blazed with embarrassment. I was completely naked. I clapped my hands over my boobs and pressed my legs tight together.

"What is going on?" I gasped, looking around. A bluff rose to my right, a large stretch of cliffs that blocked off the beach is stood on. In between me and it looked to be a lagoon or a bay. Rising beyond it, almost directly west of me, was a large mountain clad in trees. It reared into the air. A volcano-like in Hawaii.

Panic rippled through me. I glanced at the lifesaver. I must have fallen overboard during the impact. Someone must have thrown that to me, but I hadn't been rescued. And I had lost my clothes in the ocean. Maybe the currents had ripped them off or something.

Had the cruise ship sank, though? Were my daughters fine? Fear squeezed about my stomach. My hands dropped from my boobs. Being naked was the least of my worries. My ship either sank or I was thrown overboard and lost. Did anyone have any way to find me?

Was I on my own?

Lord, give me guidance right now, I prayed. Show me a sign to follow. Something to guide me to safety and security.

I was naked, but that wasn't my fault. It was not a sin to be thrust into circumstances beyond your control. And there was no one around. Even if there was, I would be grateful for any assistance. Someone had to live on this island.

It was too beautiful not to be inhabited.

The lagoon looked promising. I headed in that direction, feeling like the Holy Spirit was guiding me. Fear trembled through me. I just had to keep the faith. My two girls were alive. So was everyone else on the ship. They were all fine. We would be reunited.

I had gone maybe a hundred yards, so self-conscious of being naked, when I saw a trail. My cheeks still burned as I marched naked down the sands. My boobs were swaying out of control. I longed for even the worst bra right now to keep them from swaying so much.

The trail was narrow. A little track, but it was clearly a path. The vegetation pressed in, but it must lead somewhere. Those cliffs ahead looked impassible. I couldn't stay on the beach. There was no water. I had to find that.

That's what those survival shows my husband liked to watch always said.

And I was feeling thirsty.

I stepped into the cool confines of the jungle. I stepped with care, my hands holding my boobs to keep them from swaying so much. The Lord gave me a big set that my husband delighted in like the Songs of Solomon had encouraged him to enjoy. I gripped them to steady their bounce as I moved through the cool shadows of the jungle.

Birds sang around me. South Pacific islands didn't have any predators on them. Mostly birds. Wild boars were a problem, but I should be fine so long as I stayed on the trail. Right? My mind was so mushy on things.

I kept marching into the jungle, my thirst growing. The ground was soft and damp. If it wasn't for the nudity and the lack of water, it would be quite pleasant. It was beautiful here. The Lord had made something gorgeous to see.

Just help me find safety and the others, I prayed.

I walked for maybe an hour. My feet were handling it well. So long as I was careful, there was nothing to hurt them. It was like walking through the soil in my garden barefoot. I kept my ears cocked for any sounds.

I didn't hear any.

Then I stepped on something metal.

I blinked as I felt how solid it was beneath my feet. I frowned and stared down. The dirt of the trail had started to cover it. Along with some of the vegetation. I bent down, so conscious of my swaying boobs, and wiped at it.

I worked for a few minutes, getting my hands dirty, and uncovered a hatch buried in the ground. It had a handle. It was like a part of a bunker or something. It had clearly been here a long time. I tried to open it, heaving at the handle.

It wouldn't budge.

"Huh," I said. Was it some government bunker? Hadn't the US military spent time in the South Pacific blowing up atom bombs or something? Was this one of their installations? But that would have been sixty or seventy years ago.

So no soldiers would be here now.

But it did mean people had come to this island. And a place this nice had to have some people living on it. The hatch was strange but also heartening. I felt a renewed vigor as I continued down the trail, my throat growing more and more parched.

I had to find water soon.

The birds sang around me. I spotted them flitting from branch to branch. Since my hands were dirty now, I wasn't holding my tits. They were bouncing free before me, swaying back and forth in a distracting manner.

I sighed and kept moving through the trail. The jungle was thick, so it was hard to tell, but I think I was heading towards the large mountain I had seen. I just had to keep walking, my feet starting to get sore. My legs aching.

Through the trees, something silver shone.

"Yes," I groaned in relief. That was not sunlight. That was something man-made. And the trail seemed to be heading right for it.

I took a deep breath, preparing myself for the embarrassment of being found naked. I survived a shipwreck or being thrown overboard. Either way, that was more important than my lack of clothes situation.

I glanced down at my hand. I still had my wedding ring. I rubbed that then I kept marching. I would see my husband and daughters again. I would see the others from the ship. We would all make it back. I could feel it. The Lord was watching over us.

The trail wound to the right around some thick foliage, the silver light growing brighter. But it wasn't steady. It sort of rippled. I found out why in a moment. I came across a pool, the ground mossy around it, the water crystal clear.

A light shone from the bottom of it. A bright one that was hard to look at directly. It diffused through the water, the ripples on the surface casing patterns to dance around on the trees and foliage. I let out a sigh of disappointment.

No, this light was here to illuminate the pool for a reason.

I stared at that water.

I was so thirsty. And I was dirty. I had muddy hands and feet. I was covered in sweat. My feet ached and so did my thighs. It looked so refreshing. Was it safe to drink? I tried to think. Spring water was safe to drink. It was filtered by the earth. It was water that was full of creatures. Fish and bugs.

This water looked pristine. Nothing flowed into it. No algae grew on the rocks in there. It was so crystal clear. This was the sort of spring water that they bottled and sold in stores for too much money.

And I needed to drink. My lips were cracking.

I knelt on the edge of the stream, staring down it. Not at that light, which was very bright, but at the surface. Just double-checking. I sniffed it. It smelled clean. So I plunged my hands into the cool water and rubbed at the dirt. It came off easily enough.

It diffused through the water and drifted down to the bottom. I shifted over a few feet, my large boobs swaying, and dipped my hands into a part that the dirt hadn't reached. I cupped the water and held it in my hands. It was so clear.

I sipped it.

"Oh, Lord, thank you for this," I moaned and drank more of it.

The water was so cool and refreshing. It was almost sweet. Just a hint of that. It was cleaner than any water, too. Nothing like the garbage from the tap or the big bottles of water I picked up twice a week from the grocery store. This was untouched.

I dipped my hands in again and again. I groaned with each one.

I splashed it on my face.

Drops fell on my breasts and rolled over my nipples. They puckered up hard. That would be embarrassing if anyone was around, but I was alone. I drank more of if it. I drank deeply until the thirst was gone. I felt rejuvenated.

But my feet still hurt. My legs were sore. I needed a break. My stomach rumbled with hunger. The trail ended here, too, I realized. But this was important. There was a light in this water. Someone had to maintain it. I just needed to look around better. But first...

I stepped into the pool and groaned.

I felt so wonderful to step into the water. The throb in my feet diminished. I stepped in and sank deeper into the water. I let it rise up to my knees then I sank in it. I shuddered as the coolness swept over my legs and nethers. I sat my butt on a round stone and leaned back. My boobs floated on the surface as I just let out a long sigh.

"Thank you, Lord, for this refreshing spot," I prayed aloud as I stared up at the trees.

The birds serenaded around me. It was like I was in Eden. Naked and unashamed because I didn't have knowledge about sin. A time before Eve was tricked into eating from the Tree of Knowledge. Before Adam knowingly ate the forbidden fruit his wife offered him.

Before Original Sin.

I breathed in and out, the fear of my situation distant at the moment. I would have to get back to surviving, but for this moment, I just could relax. I could enjoy this moment that the Lord had led me to. He would guide me to salvation.

A tingle started itching in my nethers. The sort of naughty itch that I ignored. I frowned, though. Why was it happening now? And... why was it intensifying? It focused on my nethers then on one point. My clitoris.

Had something bitten me?

I felt... engorged down there.

Panicked, I bolted to my feet and stared down at my wet, brown bush. My big boobs jiggled and swayed. I bent over and slid my fingers into my bush, feeling at my nethers. I slid over and found my clitoris.

I gasped at the burst of pleasure that exploded from my naughty button. My toes curled as I brushed it again. It was swollen. Pulsing. It was way bigger than it ever had and it was swelling. My face contorted with fear as I could see it now through my bush.

The pink bud was swelling with my heartbeat, growing longer and thicker. The pink hue faded for much of it as it grew into a shaft. The tip remained pink but the rest was the pale beige of my flesh. I grasped it between my fingers. It didn't hurt, it tingled as it swelled and...

The tip looked so familiar, but it couldn't be that. It couldn't be... a penis. That looked just like my husband's. That same mushroom-like crown atop a shaft. And I was still growing. I shook it, feeling this pressure in this swelling clitoris-shaft.

"No, no, no," I whimpered. It was a penis. My clitoris had grown into a penis. "Lord, what is happening to me? What is going on?"

I shook my head in disbelief as it kept growing. It was already six inches or more, bigger than my husband's. It kept swelling and swelling before me. And there was this aching pressure at the tip. A slit formed and a liquid dripped out.

The lubricating liquid.

"Lord, what devilry is this?" I gasped and stepped out of the pool. Water was dripped down my legs as the clitoris-penis grew seven inches. Eight. Nine. Ten inches. And it kept engorging. "Am I hallucinating? Was there something in the water?"

This could not be happening. I could not be growing a penis.

It was over a foot long now when it finally stopped growing. It twitched with my heartbeat. It pulsed as the blood rushed through my veins. I bit my lower lip, my hand gripping it. The shaft thrust out of my brown bush.

I slid my hand down and felt that I still had a vagina. I did.

"How can I have this?" I asked as the tip ached. A powerful need to be stimulated. "Lord, what is wrong with me?"

But the Lord didn't have any answers for me as I stood there with this thing throbbing in my hand. Aching for me to abuse it. To stroke up and down it like a boy who can't control his lust. Masturbation. I hadn't felt urges like this since I was Chantelle's age.

And I had controlled myself back then. I would again, now.

But this ache was so strong. So insistent. I shuddered at how powerful it was. I couldn't believe how much it pulled on me. My hand gripping my cock itched to stroke up and down my shaft. To pump away at my transformed clitoris.

My clit had become a dick.

My thoughts were growing more and more vulgar as my pussy clenched. Heat suffused me. I hadn't grown wet in years. I hadn't had sex with my husband in five or six years. I hadn't ended anything. We had moved beyond sex.

So why was my pussy betraying me now?

After all these years, why was that hot, molten ache swelling through my nethers? I quivered there, struggling to resist the urge to stroke up and down my clit-cock. To rub at my dripping pussy. I whimpered, my toes curling in the soft moss.

"No, no, no," I said resolutely. "Lord, deliver me from this sinful itch."

I stared up at the sky, not looking at this big dick I had grown. This gorgeous... cock. It was gorgeous. I ached for my own shaft the way a woman would for her husband on their wedding night. When it was all so new and exciting.

I folded my arms beneath my breasts, my nipples so hard, as I shook my head. I wouldn't stroke it. I wouldn't rub my hand up and down that... that thing. I was better than that. I was Mrs. Agatha Hart, devoted wife and dutiful mother.

I would not jerk off some freaky clit-cock on a tropical island. I wouldn't fist my hand up and down that aching shaft. I certainly wouldn't rub at the folds of my pussy. Maybe slip a finger or two into my aching hole.

Nope.

My hands itched. That damn clit-cock twitched. Throbbed. Ached. It begged me to touch it. I squirmed there, my toes digging into the soft moss as I fought it. The heat swelled in my sinful pussy. Even my nipples were begging for attention.

I was beset by sinful impulses to do such shameful things to this abomination that grew from me. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to ignore it. I had to walk out of here. I had to get out of here. Flee this place.

I had to escape before it destroyed me. My heart pounded as I couldn't move. I quivered, my legs throbbing. A bead of water ran down my thigh. No, no, that was my wetness. I was so juicy down there I had soaked through my bush.

This could not be happening. This was a complete nightmare. I whimpered, my heart pounding in my chest, pumping this boiling blood through me. My fingers twitched. I held my arms tighter. I would not give in.

I would not masturbate my new clit-cock. Nor would I rub at my sinful pussy.

I was a married woman.

A God-fearing woman.

I didn't need to satisfy such base urges. I could rise above them. I just had to think about something else than the horrible itch in my cunt. That throbbing ache at the tip of my clit-dick. I didn't need to play with my nipples.

I didn't need any of this. I was fine. Fine! I could get by without any of this sinful foolishness. I would not give in. No matter how much it throbbed and... and... Burned. Itched. I ground my teeth together. I had to be strong.

Lord, give me the strength to... to not... to not grab my cock and fist it like a depraved whore!

My hand shot down to grasp my pulsing dick. I gripped it and slid up the smooth shaft. It was so thick that I had trouble holding it in my hand. This was so insane. I brushed the spongy crown of my new cock and...

"Oh, Lord," I gasped as the intense heat shot down my pussy. I slid down my cock then back up it, brushing the tip again. "Oh, Lord!"

My pussy clenched as the pleasure shot down my shaft. I shuddered as I worked my hand up and down my clit-dick. I couldn't stop myself. It felt so amazing to massage that tip. I whimpered, my big boobs throbbing. The heat burned hotter in my pussy.

"I'm sorry, Lord," I groaned to my sinful weakness.

Shame burned through me even as I kept fisting my dick. I kept stroking it. I pumped up and down my hand as fast as I could. This wonderful bliss swept through me. I shuddered, savoring this passion. It was an incredible delight.