Kal, Male, 36

	- Narrator, disaster survivor and castaway

	- 6'1, 180lbs, short dark-brown hair

Bailey, Female, 12

	- Disaster survivor and castaway

	- 4'9, 75lbs, shoulder-length brown hair

A small note of caution to readers about the 'mild scat' code on this chapter: If you have visited my Home Page, you know that several of my series feature extensive scat-centric sexual activities. Shipwrecked has nothing like that, and the scat in this chapter is on the very mild side as discussed in my Introduction to the series. However, I know many people are turned off by even the slightest mention that the bowels of females are anything other than clean and smelling of strawberries. Reality isn't like that and I don't shy away from necessary details of sex acts surrounding the ass. The 'mild scat' is 'very mild' here, and I think that, even if, like most readers, you aren't into scat of any kind, you'll find the scene to follow reasonable, necessary, and sticks with the plot line in a way that won't gross you out. If you want to ignore the fact that people move their bowels and sometimes need a bit of coaxing to get things going, you can skip the sex scene toward the end of this chapter without missing any major plot points. You've been warned, and I hope you'll find the scene enjoyable and well-integrated into the character sexual development arcs. -- Chase Shivers

Bailey and I had hit a wall. The day after our trip around the island, after finding Gale's notebooks, we were in bad shape. Despite the sun block, our skin was burned and angry. Our muscles felt like leaded balloons. It hurt to move, it hurt to not move. Together, we spent that day groaning together in our misery. I was barely able to mix up juice slurry and keep some calories in our system, but our bodies could do little more than recline in the sand or in our shelter.

We wanted desperately to return to the North side, to find Gale, to find help of any kind. Up to that point, which was Day 7 by my reckoning, we'd gotten by on adrenaline, washed up scraps of civilization, and our wonderful budding relationship. But our bodies had started to degrade noticeably. The exertion of our trip around the island had cost us dearly, and I wondered if we'd ever find the ability to recover. Bailey's small frame was thin from the start, and the lost weight and muscle was beginning to show. Ribs, hip bones, the shape of her neck all clearly displayed that she wasn't eating enough.

Day 8 was no different than Day 7, and Day 9 promised much of the same for us. Storms blew in early and didn't leave until well into the night. I managed to find a dozen clams and three oysters during a lull in the lightning, and used the last of our burnable wood to cook them. We ate ravenously inside our shelter as the rain returned and put out the fire despite the metal cover. We huddled near each other, our burns starting to throb, our bodies only slowly healing the raw flesh. I wanted to touch her, hug her, make love to her, but my tender skin and hers made it painful more often than not. It was excruciating to hurt so much that I couldn't hold my twelve-year old lover against me.

We talked a lot over those days. There wasn't much else we could do. I learned that Bailey's mom had been an Olympic archer and had taught the young girl some of her skills. I longed for a bow to shoot down the birds that hunted along the shoreline and hovered in the trees, creatures of white and grey and muted browns that were looking more and more delicious as our bodies grew too lean, too thin. Bailey's sister Melody had been in a school choir and hoped to try out for one of those national singing television shows. The girl didn't cry this time, talking about her sister, and I wasn't sure if that meant she had been able to deal with the emotion, or if she, like me, was so exhausted that she couldn't cry anymore. Bailey herself claimed to be a good singer, too, and I longed for a day when she had the energy to show me.

I told her about my work, or more accurately, the work which led me to retire early. I described the biggest product we developed, a small device, along with software, that plugged into a smartphone, capable of helping farmers measure soil conditions and suggest adjustments. There was a bidding war over that one, and it was the primary reason Kate and I had more than enough money to never work again.

We talked a lot about what we missed. People, food, technology, the familiar comforts we longed for that seemed so goddamned far from us on the island. We'd taken to calling it 'Isla Gale,' after the name the woman had given it. It was kinda nice to give our location a personalization like that, it made it feel more possible that a map somewhere might show the name and lead someone to look for us there. A fever dream, to be sure, but we had to hold on tightly to small measures of hope wherever we found them.

We fantasized together about the ship that would come and rescue us.

“Can't you just see it?” Bailey had closed her eyes, imagining what she described. “A buffet line like the one on the South Seas Palace. Full of tomatoes, hot dogs, ice cream, bananas! I know they'll have bananas!” I had forgotten the name of the ship we'd been on until she mentioned it. Compared to what we had then, it was more like a kingdom of palaces.

I knew that with every day that passed, the chance of our rescue became smaller and smaller. We'd both spent many hours scanning the horizon, not wanting to miss any chance to signal a ship of our location. I'd shown Bailey how to hold the metal firewood cover to try to catch the sun and send a reflection to a specific location. We'd practiced first on trees, then each other from a distance. More about keeping busy and keeping a small hope alive than anything that would bring a ship a dozen miles away to our location. Hope was about all we were going on at that point.

Days ten and eleven found our burns peeling, but our energy not much better. We'd neither one defecated in days, and despite our abundance of water, we were constantly feeling parched, our tongues heavy. We ate as many clams and oysters and scallops as we could find. It seemed like a lot, but our bodies made it clear that we still weren't doing good enough.

Day twelve I actually started feeling a bit better. Not well, but better. I had the energy to go to the unopened metal container stuck down the beach for the first time in several days. Bailey dozed while I took two of the metal struts and tried jimmying the latches again. Despite my best efforts, the container continued to hold its secrets and prevent me from gaining access to its contents.

The bodies had disappeared at some point. I assume the surf caught them and washed them away from the island. I was relieved. The bloated, rotting corpses only reminded us that we might have survived long enough to die here instead of on the ship. Reminded us of who and what we'd lost. Reminders we did not need.

I returned to our shelter to find Bailey in some measure of pain. She was kneeling, huddled over, her naked body too thin, too bony. “What is it, Sweetheart? What can I do?”

“I can't go. I tried while you were down there, but I can't go.”

Bailey held her stomach and I knew she meant she was constipated. I'd been there the day before and had just that morning been able to get things moving. I almost laughed about the way the castaway-style movies and stories I enjoyed never talked about the way your system fails you when your diet was unusual, both rich and too little, stressed.

Our skin feeling better that day, I held her and rubbed her stomach. I didn't know what to do. I walked her down to the deeper water to the East and held her hands as she tried again to move her bowels. She cried out, in pain, and despite her efforts, nothing moved. We returned to our shelter.

I had one last thing I could try, and I felt guilty about even suggesting it. “Bailey... Sweetheart... There is something we could do that might work. Something that's usually fun and sexy, but I think for you, it may be the only thing we can do to get things moving.”

She groaned as she rocked on her knees. “Anything. Anything.” I moved us back down the beach to be close to our pooping spot in case it worked. Bailey got onto her hands and knees in the sand, ass facing the lapping surf, and I slid in behind her.

“I'm going to put my finger in your butt, see if that helps at all, ok?”

“Ok, anything. Oohhh... oooohhh...”

Bailey was hurting when she got on her hands and knees and offered her little holes for my inspection. Any other time, I'd have been very turned on and enjoying the view of the young girl's hairless slit, her thin, slightly puffy labia and barely-there anus. Well, ok, I'm ashamed to admit that I did enjoy the view, but I tried to focus first on making my young lover feel better.

I spit on her tiny asshole, rubbed my finger gently around her anus. Bailey moaned softly, her pain still washing through her body. “I'm going to slide a finger inside, ok? It might feel a little bit uncomfortable.” She grunted her assent.

I pushed against her tight pucker and got nowhere. She was incredibly tight and dry back there. I wished for some lubrication and remembered the after-burn cream from the emergency pack. There wasn't enough of it for us to have used it on our bodies, it was just a condiment-sized pouch, but it might be useful for penetrating Bailey's backdoor.

I retrieved it and returned to the girl, smearing half of the packet in her crack. I managed to push the tip of my finger in, pushing with it some of the lotion. Bailey moaned, her head rolled around at my intrusion. I felt her bowels tremble and try to move, but her hole was barely allowing my entrance and didn't dilate on its own. I pulled my finger back, pushed in again, felt the ring of her anus pop around my knuckle, my digit sliding in fully.

Bailey sucked in her breath, cried out in pain. “I know... I know, Love. You're doing great. Doing great. You'll relax in a moment, hang in there.” She gave me a groaned 'mmm-hmm' and gritted her teeth.

My finger poked into her bowels and I could feel her rock-hard stool within. No wonder she was having trouble. Not only was her little asshole tight and, until I spread the lotion, very dry, the load within was firm and not going to squeeze out easily.

I slowly withdrew and slid in again, bringing another uncomfortable groan from the preteen. I knew this was hurting her, but it was the only thing I could think of to help. I worked slowly, probing and sliding out and probing again, working carefully around the tight ring of her anus to try to loosen her a bit, to give her a chance to pass her stool.

I fingered her asshole for several minutes, her pucker slowly, very slowly becoming consistently slick and relaxing a bit. Still very tight and almost cutting the blood off from my finger, the girl's hole nonetheless yielded to my probes, became less rough, more tender on my skin.

Bailey had become less vocal at my penetration, breathing slowly and better accepting the finger in her butt. She almost, almost, pushed back as I slid in.

It was quite arousing despite her discomfort. I realized that we might try one more thing. “Bailey... there... there's some progress here... some progress. You're loosing up, but I don't know if it is enough for you to move your bowels. There's something else we could do that might work.”

“Anything, please, Kal, anything. My stomach hurts bad.”

“Ok, Sweetie. Ok. Have you heard of anal sex?”

Silence a moment, then, “Yes.”

“Do you know what that means?”

“You put it in my butt?”

“Exactly, I put it in your butt. I might be able to loosen you up more and then cum in there, might help you get things going. Do you want me to put it in your butt?”

“Yes.”

My dick was rock hard and I again felt guilty for my arousal during her discomfort. I almost laughed at how I'd just talked my way into a twelve-year old's asshole. For her own good!

I used the rest of the package of lotion to slick up her hairless anus and my cock. I pushed as much of the lotion inside her ass as I could, then brought the tip of my penis to her anus. “Ok, Bailey, I'm putting it in your butt now. It might hurt a little, ok?”

“It hurts now... just put it in.”

I went slow, her pucker only just yielding to my penetration. The head halfway in, it was already the tightest hole I'd ever fucked. My cock throbbed precum into her butt, two long thick strands shooting out into her bowels as I slowly lodged the ridge of my dickhead inside her.

Bailey cried out, squirmed, groaned in discomfort. “I know, Love, hang in there. It gets better soon!” Another 'mmm-hmm' signaled her acceptance and I got on with penetrating her ass. I pulled back slightly, the head of my cock stuck inside her tight ring, her anus protruding as I backed off, then I slid in steadily. Bailey's tight hole yielded, barely, but it yielded. The twelve-year old threw her head back and groaned, panting, gasping as my penis slid home.

Halfway inside her, I hit her stool and knew I didn't want to do anything to make things worse, so I didn't push in further. Instead, I moved my length around in a small circle, trying to loosen her hole and help her bowels get moving. I slid out a bit, back in, Bailey groaned. In, out, in, out, in again, small movements, gentle and careful as I tried my best to loosen her and bring myself to orgasm.

Bailey's tight hole made it hard to cum. The grip on my penis almost burned, clamping around my shaft and blocking several days of seed from rising.

I held the twelve-year old's skinny waist, her hipbones and tailbone visible under her skin. I watched her tiny anus wrapped around my cock as I softly fucked her incredibly tight hole. Bailey was moaning now, sounded perhaps a bit less uncomfortable, and I let out my own sigh, couldn't help myself from feeling wonderful as I fucked the little girl's asshole. “oooh, Bailey... almost there, Sweetie, almost there...”

She moaned louder and her body began to move with mine. Slowly, very gently, just enough movement to grow the burning in my groin with each gripping stroke. In, out, in again, holding her hips tightly, bucking carefully against the girl. Her hole dilated as I fucked it. Terribly tight but beginning to yield more and more, the load in her bowels starting to shift ever so slightly.

Bailey let out a long moan and shuddered as I humped her rectum. “Oh... Kal...”

My young lover's whispered words sent me over the top. I held tightly against Bailey, dick throbbing in her little butt, and unloaded my semen inside. “oooh... oooh... oh, Bailey... here it comes, Sweetheart... I'm cumming in your butt...” I came slowly, carefully, had to force each blast of sperm. I hadn't cum in days and gently shuddered a huge load of cum into the twelve-year old's ass. I held against her, Bailey's tight ring milking the cream into her bowels. I jerked and withdrew a bit, slid back in, squirted another stream of jism into her guts.

Her anus felt squishy, looser. Looser, but certainly not loose as I had to consciously squeeze out the last of my seed through the gripping hold of her butthole.

I held against her bony ass, moved my penis around trying to do anything I could to get the natural lubrication to free up the contents of her bowels. I rocked around inside her hole, trying one final time to dilate her backdoor and help my lover get things moving.

“Ohh... Bailey... Oh... Ok... I came in your ass. I came in your ass. Try pushing me out, push down hard.”

She groaned and I felt her anus tighten as her bowels pushed against me. I felt movement against my penis, strong and insistent. I thought we might be getting somewhere. “Ok, hold off one second, let me pull out and I'll hold you in the water, ok?”

“Ok... hurry, I feel like I gotta go so bad!”

I pulled out carefully, not wanting to hurt her further. My penis plopped out, sticky and messy from cumming in her bowels, and I saw the girl's hole gape slightly, a hint of its contents just inside. I quickly helped Bailey to the water and held her hands once more as she tried to move her bowels.

She grunted, strained, held still for long moments. “Uhnngg... ohh...” She tensed, her tan, youthful face sweaty and tense. I felt her body shudder and then, “ohyeah... ohyeah...” Things were moving, and she grunted and pushed for several moments before a look of intense relief washed over her sweat-dripping face. “ooh, Kal. Ahhh... I think I got it all out... That was horrible! Just horrible!”

“Glad it worked, Kitten. We don't have to do that again, I know it hurt you to take me there.”

“No! Not that, that wasn't horrible... I mean the not going, that was horrible. I kinda liked you touching my butt... putting it in... I was hurting already or I might have liked it...”

My cock throbbed as I imagined making love to Bailey's ass without her being in pain and discomfort. It was a day I looked forward to, for sure.