Island of the Blow-up Sex Dolls

Lastik

The sun was up now, and Kamoa, devastated, surveyed the perimeter. Mpira was nowhere to be seen. Perhaps she really had left for good. He could see Gummi and Sneach still off to the North, still together and now joined by Lapisi. He didn't think that it was possible to hate him more than they did. That had just been a warmup. Now he was more alone than ever. He slumped off back towards the beach. He knew not to return to Date Tree. That was the dolls' domain now. Those three weren't going to flee like Lapisi or Mpria did. And without access to the fallen dates, his only food source would have to be fish from now on.

Then he got a mischievous idea. It was a delusional idea, but delusion was his bread and butter at this point. "I'll blow up Lastik. She'll know what to do."

Lastik was not like his other girlfriends. She was considerably older than him, and she was perfectly aware of all of the other women he was involved with. He was perfectly aware of all the other men she was involved with. She had had seven marriages and seven children, although not all of the fathers matched up to the children. Her current husband was wealthy and ancient. They had met on one of those "Life Is Short Have An Affair" dating sites, and out of respect to their short lives, they had an affair. Also, she was evil. Not betray and lie sort of evil, but like he we pretty sure she had admitted to killing several people sort of evil.

He grabbed the Lastik rubber chicken, leaving the last remaining doll on the ground, a pile of one, and went down to the crystal water.

Lastik was gorgeous. She had an ageless beauty like she was frozen in stone. Pale as ice and hair white as the sand that her rubber doll laid on. And that vagina. Considering her history, it was as tight as a teenager's.

What took you so long, honey? She lit a cigarette.

"We've got a bit of a situation."

Tell me about it. Wait, did she really have a cigarette? His mind was playing tricks on him. She was just a blow-up doll. A blow-up doll who looked exactly like his MILF lover, Lastik.

Kamoa explained the situation. He had lost Date Tree to a bunch of bitches, and on the opposite shore were three or four more dolls in a league of hatred for him.

Well, it seems like we have three options. We could take back Date Tree, which you'll probably need both for its shade and for its sustenance. You'll dehydrate in no time eating nothing but fish. Second option, we could sneak attack the four on the opposite shore, pop them all and send them off to sea. That'll send a warning to the Date Tree cunts.

"What's the third option?" Kamoa felt sweat dripping down his forehead, and this was much needed bodily fluid being wasted in the late-morning sun.

We bide our time. We bide our time in erotic dalliance, naturally. You know those other dolls ain't shit to how I can please you. Then, we just sit back and wait until they turn on each other. It's only a matter of time. You think a half dozen women isolated on an island can get along in solidarity? They'll rip each other to pieces. Either that or they'll go full Lesbos. And then they'll still turn on each other and rip each other to pieces. Both ways, it'll be fun to watch. And then it'll just be you and me. You and me eating dates and fucking with abandon 'til the sun melts us into nothing.

"Oh God, I've missed you. I have no idea why I blew you up last."

I'm not last, honey. You forgot your ex-wife.

"I don't want to bring her into this. We're at full-on FUBAR. She's already been through so much over the past few years. I never meant to hurt her."

So what's your decision, oh brave leader?

"Option three. We bone and wait."

Take me as I am, all rubber and cunt.

Kamoa grabbed the Lastik doll by the tits and they dove into the sea. They shagged in the saltwater while tropical fish swam by, curious at the sight of a skeletal man fucking a rubber blow-up doll like his life depended on it.