Friday, February 6, 2015

Robin Gets Wrecked

Hello everyone! Sorry once again for the lack of updates this past week. I've had a medical problem that is only starting to finally clear up, and haven't been in a writing/captioning mood. (If you know what epididymitis is, you'll understand why.)

Anyway, today's short story started as a caption, but ended up way too long so I'm just posting the text as is after the break. Despite the length, it's more of an excerpt than a finished story, but you might get a laugh or two out of it anyway.

Especially if you Google a translation of the last line. :-)

I could probably do a whole story on this sort of setting/theme, with more misunderstandings leading to humiliating situations. It's actually one of my favorite story ideas, though I don't use it very often.

- B-Rex

Robin crawled through the surf, coughing. Her lips were dry and salty from two days lost at sea. She glanced at her lifeboat where it had lodged onto the beach, weighed down by dozens of heavy wooden supply crates. "Well, that could have gone better..."

She forced herself up on her feet, and sighed as her soaked and torn blouse fell away, little more than rags now. It was all that remained of her expensive wardrobe, the rest lost in the surf or still trapped in her chests aboard the cruise ship. She imagined her stately suite on ship, now at the bottom of the sea, and sighed, cursing herself for only grabbing emergency food supplies instead of an extra outfit.

Of course, she wasn't supposed to get lost at sea like this either. She'd abandoned the doomed luxury cruise liner a full hour before it sank, but had never taken into account the ocean currents. When the secret scuttling charges blew the hull, and the ship began to sink, she was already far away from the wreck. While the main group of lifeboats leaving the sinking vessel were swept north, the local current she was trapped in took her farther south, far from where the search and rescue planes would be looking.

At least I seem to have found an island, she thought, looking up and down the beach. The small island was covered in thick jungle, and there was no sign of civilization. But it was far better than spending another miserable day trapped at sea.

Robin struggled to lift one of the boxes from the beached boat, but heavy crate refused to budge. She didn't even bother trying to break into the strong, wooden crate. She sighed; months of emergency food and bottled water, and she couldn't get to it. She cursed herself again, this time for not having the foresight to grab a crowbar.

"Maybe there's a rock or something I could use instead," she thought out loud, licking her dry lips. Unfortunately, the beach appeared to be nothing but sand; there wasn't a rock in sight. Sighing, Robin headed toward the thick jungle, hoping to find something useful. She might well be trapped on this crummy island for weeks before a plane bothered searching this far from the sunken cruise liner.

A year before, Robin had started her plan. She knew her company's new cruise ship was too expensive even while they were finishing building it. It had been ordered years before, even before the recession began. With the markets, and the cruise industry itself, collapsing around her, she'd known the only way to recoup her investment was to sink the ship and collect the insurance money. It was a foolproof plan, or so it had seemed at the time. She had hired a private mercenary group to install small scuttling explosives on the ship, rigged to blow just as the vessel was passing over one of the deepest regions of the ocean.

With her on board at the time of the sinking, it was unlikely anyone would suspect her of the sabotage, assuming anyone ever found out about the explosives in the first place. After that, she only had to abandon the ship, and await rescue with all the other passengers. The ship was on its maiden voyage, at the very peak of its value; the insurance pay out would be enormous!

A few minutes later, she crashed through the thick foliage, only to burst out onto another beach. Apparently the island was very narrow, at least at this end. Even as she realized this, however, a loud voice surprised her.

"¿Quién eres?" Robin turned, seeing another lifeboat crashed on the beach just yards away. A large, young man stood beside it. Suddenly the jungle around her shook, as dozens of other young men appeared, all as shocked to see her as she was them. Too late, she remembered her nudity, then realized that the men were no better clothed than she was, most wearing only rags left from their own days lost in the tropical seas.

The man repeated his question, "¿Quién eres?"

Shit, just my luck! Robin mentally hissed. She couldn't help but recognize the young men from the cruise; they were all part of a large party of college students that had been terrorizing her ship's staff, and keeping the maids busy in more ways than one. They were rowdy, uncouth degenerates. And worse still, she didn't know a word of Spanish!

Thinking quickly, she recalled overhearing a maid yelling at the boys from inside one of their room, as Robin passed by on the night of the sinking. The phrase was only gibberish to her, but the Spanish-speaking maid sure had sounded angry, her loud voice clearly understandable even through the thick wooden doors.

"Fóllame!" She yelled at the men, imitating the unseen maid from the ship.

Robin didn't know what the strange words meant, but they certainly seemed to get the young men's attention! Instantly, every male on the beach seemed to snap to attention, their bright eyes following her every move.

The wealthy woman grinned triumphantly at the result. This was exactly what she needed. Now I just need to show them who's boss around here, before they get the wrong idea....

Backing away slowly into the jungle, she spoke again, now in her most commanding voice, the same harsh tone that had put the fear of god into many a young servant before. "Fóllame! Fóllame!!"

Just as she'd hoped, the men fell into line behind her, following her back through the trees and ferns. Smiling, she continued to back through the thick foliage, all the while repeating the maid's strange words. Idly, she wondered what they must really mean, then dismissed the thought.

Like it even matters!  Robin thought triumphantly, as the men followed her straight back to the grounded lifeboat. The young twenty-somethings all looked fit and strong, surely they could pry open her boxes of supplies. She just had to make them understand what she wanted.

She bent over the boat, pointing to the boxes of supplies. "Fóllame!" She ordered. The young college students all looked at the tall male who had spoken before, the defacto leader it seemed. He just shrugged back at them, then began to easily lift the crates.

Robin smiled wider as the group of boys unloaded her small boat. Clearly they'd learned who was in charge here, which was a very good thing, as they'd all be stuck on the island for many weeks to come. 

At her command, one of the boys kicked a crate until it broke apart, the contents spilling out. She pulled a water bottle free from the mess and guzzled it down, as the group continued emptying the boat.

As the last box was unloaded onto the sand, Robin spied a bottle of lotion in the broken emergency supply crate, and hefted it. Grinning, she tapped the now sweating leader of the college boys on the side, and shook the bottle vigorously.

"Fóllame!" she ordered him, unscrewing the cap. 

Annoyingly, the boy didn't begin to apply the oil to her back as she had hoped. Instead he just looked confused.

Sighing, Robin turned around and poured some of the oil down her back. As the cool, thin liquid spread down her skin, she repeated the entire phrase she'd overheard from the maid, speaking slowly so the stupid boy would get the message, whatever it really was.

"Fóllame en el culo. En el Culo!"



  1. Yes, certain to get their attention, all right.
    Fortunately for the villainess of this story, the tall young man from the town of Los Muros was very responsible and said to her, "Si llega a ser demasiado, utilice mi ciudad natal para una palabra seguridad 'Los Muros'. 'Los Muros'."
    She understood that she was supposed to remember that last phrase. It wasn't his fault that she remembered it as "Mas duro!"

  2. I had to use google translate, last line was an amusing (for me, not for her) surprise! Good build up, use of picture and enjoyed watching the tale unfold.


Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...