Mermaids don't need modesty

[EddieDavidson]

I have three chapters so far I'll add more.

I keep starting/starting over on stories. I wanted to do a journey story/adventure. I've done some going to a SCA (Society for Creative Anachronsim) dungeons and dragon game, etc.

This one I really like, it may not be a super long story. It's a "girls don't need modesty" type story.

[EddieDavidson]

The hot Georgia sun was in my eyes as I stood on the deck of my uncle’s 39-foot Southern Cross next to my little brother Kevin.

From the deck, you could see the beach, narrow and clean, with patches of grass standing up behind it. A few trees leaned toward the water, twisted by wind. The lighthouse farther off sat at an angle you wouldn’t notice from shore, only from this view across the bend. No docks, no houses, no sign of anyone. Just the strip of sand, the grass behind it, and the dark green trees closing it off. A couple of white birds walked the shoreline, stabbing at the wet sand for food.

My parents told us this would be a “working vacation” because we’d be on a real sailboat and we all had assigned jobs. I still didn’t know much about mine, I was told we would get orientation but first before we truly set sail off the Georgia coast, my Aunt and Uncle had anchored off the shore to allow for the girls some time to “frolic” playfully in the water.

I’d been invited to join them, but the Atlantic water looked cold and I was happier just watching from the boat.

We were far from the expensive homes and resorts on the Island, and the only way you could get there was by boat. I noticed a few white egrets along the shore, but I wasn’t paying attention to any of the majestic natural beauty in the landscape because I was focused on the four naked girls popping out of the South Georgia water.

My Aunt Helen called it frolic time, and the girls pretended to be mermaids, bouncing up and letting their tits bounce out of the water while they playfully splashed and giggled.

“Make the most of frolic time, once we set sail, you’ll be working your cute little mermaid tails off. We’ll conduct initial orientation so you know your roles, and you’ll learn on the job, get you squared away with a fresh coat of sunblock, and put out to sea. We’ll make today a p-day!”

“Pussy day?” Tom quipped from the deckhouse as he sipped a beer next to my father.

“Processing day,” My aunt frowned because she knew that her husband already knew that term and was just joking.

“Remember, these pollywogs don’t know our lingo,” Tom reminded his wife. “At least your friend Cathy spoke the lingo when she and her brats sailed with us last year. Your sister’s family doesn’t know a P-day from a Pee-hole. “

“Last year, I invited a friend of mine and her daughters to cruise with us,” Helen explained to my mother. “We took a look at what worked and what didn’t, and modified some of the rules this year. She didn’t have any sons, and her husband was deployed, so we are winging it with your sons and Dennis.”

“Just explain some of the terms to us, Helen, and we’ll figure it out. I feel like we need Google just to look up a few of these terms,” Mom chuckled.

“No cell phones, no laundry machine, no internet to suck down everyone’s attention during chow,” Tom said with pride. “You can ask us, and we’ll tell you. We aren’t trying to confuse you, but we’ve had a certain way of doing this that works for us, and my son and the girls know the way things are.”

“Maybe we should adopt this way of life when we get back home, honey,” Dad smiled at my mom.

“Maybe, would you like that?” Mom seemed eager to please my father and happy that he was happy.

“We’d save a lot of money on laundry and buying clothes, keeping the girls naked, and I like what I see so far,” Dad said cryptically.

“You’ll save on birth control as well, but it’s also work to operate and maintain this way, which is why we are more relaxed at home about some of the rules. You’ll have to observe the results and figure out for yourself what works for you and your family,” Tom explained.

My sisters weren’t privy to the conversation because they were splashing in the water more than 20 feet away, laughing and having fun with Nixie and Waverly. Waverly’s giggles drowned out most of the conversation and were a little infectious – even my older sister Tracy found it hard not to laugh when Waverly giggled.

If my sisters had heard, they might have bristled at how easily my father brought up the idea of maintaining these rules at home. We didn’t live in a nudist resort like my aunt’s family did. I couldn’t imagine what would happen if we had guests. I assumed it was all talk at this point, anyway.

Every now and then, one of the girls dove below the water, and her pale white butt crack rose to the surface, wiggling like a duck when they are diving for fish.

I was absolutely mesmerized by how effortless it seemed to them to swim in the Ocean.

“You two can join them if you want,” my Aunt Helen told me. The first thing people notice about her is that she has striking blue eyes and looks like a cross between Melanie Griffith and Goldie Hawn in their prime.

She was completely naked, almost no pubic hair, pink pussy lips, and a great natural set of tits, which was all I saw when I looked at her. I felt guilty when I gawked at my aunt, but she had a body that looked like it was meant to be admired.

Aunt Helen wasn’t athletic or built like a porn star. She had a natural body with curvy hips, but there was something so sexy about her classic MILF body that a Barbie doll wouldn’t have.

Kevin waved, held his nose and dropped off the side of the boat without hesitation. My little brother is far more adventurous than me, and has a funny sense of humor. He belly flopped in the water and screamed “SHIT, It’s COLD!”

“Of course it is, silly,” my cousins Nixie and Waverly giggled at him while bobbing in the water.

My cousin Nixie’s name was actually Nicole or Nikki, but she always introduced herself to me as Nixie. She wasn’t in the military, but growing up with two military parents had obviously rubbed off on her. She never slouched, she was incredibly observant about her surroundings.

If you have ever heard someone who was in the military for a while speak with a certain patter, you’d notice that Nixie had no Southern accent, unlike her mother. She usually spoke in a very clear, concise, and detailed manner, with a kind of optimistic deference in her voice.

My Aunt spoke that way too but there was more military jargon, and sassy southern attitude in her speech.

Nixie had none of that. She seemed open and honest to a fault, and very friendly. She didn’t over share with me, but she was like an open book.. You could ask her anything and she’d give you what seemed like a clear response.

As I was never in the military, my only frame of reference for the way my cousin Nixie spoke was the TV show “Jack Reacher”. He’s a former Marine, and everyone who serves with him spoke with the same cadence that Nixie uses.

She could be quite self-deprecating at times and frequently introduced herself to me as a “military brat” as if she were ashamed of it. All I can tell you is that Nixie seemed very different from all the girls her age that I knew at the time. She could be silly and she could be serious and easily shift between both attitudes.

Nixie looked a lot like her mother, except she had Auburn hair and slightly bigger boobs. Her breasts reminded me of two small softballs or grapefruits jutting off of my cousin’s chest.

My cousin Waverly is Kevin’s age, and she could best be described as a pudgy Sidney Sweeney, constantly giggling and chuckling. She and Kevin get along really well because she laughs at all his jokes whether they were funny or not.

She’s really sprouted this summer, and I mean that in the sense that her tits looked like big sacks of milk with puffy nipples hanging off of her chest.

I’ve known Nixie and Waverly for as long as I’ve been alive, and I knew they grew up in a nudist resort in Georgia but I had never visited them. They always came to visit us and they always wore clothes when they did.

They stripped off immediately once they got on board my Uncle’s boat, and didn’t have to be told to undress. They were eager to get out underway and be completely nude.

My older sister Tracy laughed at Kevin while he comically chattered his teeth and shivered. She didn’t have the same carefree laugh that our cousins did. There was an undertone of “I have to be in this cold water, you do too!!”

She had been very resistant to the idea of stripping off on the boat. My parents had gone over Uncle Tom’s rules on the boat before we arrived, but until we actually had to surrender our clothes, it hadn’t seemed real.

My parents hadn’t explained much about the rules to me and Kevin. I was a little jealous that my mom spent so much time explaining it to my sisters. I assumed the rules would be the same for guys and girls on the boat, but that was quickly dispelled once we got there.

Girl Scouts were run entirely differently from Boy Scouts and focused on different values. Little League ball was entirely different than girls’ softball leagues. I was simply told that we would all be naked and that the girls would be “Mermaids” and the guys would be “Mates” to Tom George.

I surmised that it was a bit like the difference between being a Knight and a Lady in waiting at a King’s court. The Lady in Waiting didn’t wear armor and go to battle, and the Knights didn’t dress in fancy gowns and attend to the queen.

My family didn’t decide things democratically, and we didn’t have family meetings where we discussed whether any of us wanted to go. I was simply informed we were going. That was no different than any past vacations we took, other than the bit about being nude the entire trip.

We packed clothes, so I assumed we’d wear clothes SOME times.

When we arrived at the docks, Tom George’s family was already naked on the boat while they were still moored to the marina. There were people walking around on the docks, and his family didn’t hide their nudity at all.

My Aunt told my sisters, “Mermaids don’t need modesty,” and expected them to strip down as soon as we boarded. My dad stripped down, so Kevin and I did the same without being asked. It was incredibly embarrassing, but since everyone else on the boat was naked, there was no point in arguing or refusing even though we were all incredibly embarrassed and uncomfortable.

My Uncle Tom told us we’d get used to it, and if not, we could swim back to the shore before we set sail. I assumed he was kidding.


Tom George is a big guy, reminds me of a Nordic football player, or Nick Nolte in his prime, which is why it’s no surprise he married my mother’s sister. They look like they would have starred in the same movie from the 1980s together.

He held out sunscreen when we first arrived at the dock. He said “This is all you have to wear,” and offered it to us. Then he repeated what he said and put the emphasis on the word “HAVE” to let us know sunscreen is all we would be wearing.

We were full of questions, and Tracy had the bulk of them. Aunt Helen told her she was excited that Tracy wanted to learn everything but that we’d learn by doing as members of the crew and that she’d be giving us an orientation after what she called frolic time.

I didn’t even have to stow my own gear on the boat. Helen and my cousins put it away for me under decks, and we stripped in the marina before we got out of site of the shore. No one at the dock said anything but I was certain a few of them noticed the 39 foot sailboat with the naked women on deck.

My chubby little sister Denise dove headfirst, stuck her bare wet ass in the air like a duck, and then kicked down out of sight. She was bashful, but hadn’t refused the new vacation rules. She’s my mom’s pet – always anxious to please my mom.

They look a lot alike. People say my mother looks like Melissa McCarthy, and by that token, Denise looks like a younger version of Aidy Bryant from Saturday Night Live.

I had never seen my sisters naked except when we used to bathe together when we were little. It was strange and surreal to see their hairy pussies, and puffy nipples outdoors on a boat.

I didn’t know where to look, because I didn’t want to stare and get accused of being a pervert. I felt like I should not look at my family while they were naked, and yet I couldn’t help myself. I tried to be discreet about staring and glance but I wasn’t doing a good job of it.

I frequently became red in the face anytime anyone talked to me, because I felt like they had to know I was ogling the women – especially because I constantly had a boner.

Helen and her daughters treated it like it was perfectly normal and said nothing. My Uncle and father were talking in the deckhouse around the steering wheel and enjoying some beers, so if they noticed my boner, they said nothing.

My mom frowned at me, glowered, and glanced down as if I could or should do something to make my erection go away but she didn’t say anything. She was naked as well, and looked completely mortified.

I think it was less about the shame or embarrassment of being naked, and more about my mother’s body image issues. She’s chubby like Denise and Waverly, but not fat. She’s got huge tits and a big ass, but she considers herself disgusting and she’s the first to make self-deprecating remarks.

“Come on in, Mom!” Denise called to her from the water. “It’s not as bad as Kevin makes it seem, and once you are in the water, you get used to it!”

“I’d jump in, but I am afraid people will think I am a whale and try to harpoon me,” Mom joked with a smirk.

“Tom is going to love you being on the boat, Barb,” my Aunt told my mother. “He loves teasing, I am not sure how he is going to handle someone who is meaner to herself than he ever would be.”

“It’s true, I am a chubby cow, Helen. I am starting to doubt why I agreed to these boat rules already.”

“First off,” Helen grew firm but didn’t raise her voice. “The only cow here is me. COW stands for commanding officer's wife, and unless Dennis gets a promotion to Captain of this boat, that distinction lies with me.”

My Aunt and Uncle are former military, and it’s a big part of their identity. They both have a lot of patriotic emblems about pride in service around their home and even on the boat.

“Secondly, we have already disembarked on our annual vacation. Everyone knows that in international waters, the captain’s word is law, and there is no turning back. Every candy-ass recruit that ever deployed for the first time started to regret signing up after they realized the recruiter probably lied to them about the tennis courts and resort-style living on the ship.”

I heard Tom’s laugh bellow his agreement from the shaded deck house.

“You wanted an adventure, you signed your ass over as a candy seaman, and the rules are the rules for everyone.”

“The Navy, it’s not just a job, it’s an adventure!” Tom shouted from behind the glass while holding the steering wheel.

“When I joined the Marines, Daddy told me that I wouldn’t be able to handle it. I told Dad that the Marines were looking for a few good men, and I was looking for a whole lot of Marines!”

My Aunt wore a salacious, hungry look on her face, like she still wanted those young marines sexually, and brought her hand to her breast, rubbed it slightly, “I had to bust my hump in six feet of mud up, trudging up to my sweaty tits with ticks and leeches in basic training. Drill instructors never let up, riding you all day, calling you every filthy thing they could think of. Hazing was constant. You learned fast or you washed out. The first few months were nothing but pain and sweat. You didn’t have time to think, you just obeyed, but in the end, I was stronger, not weaker. I had to prove I was capable to myself, my unit, and Uncle Sam before I got in the shit and fucked things up beyond recognition and cost someone their lives.

“This isn’t the Marines, though,” Barb admitted.

“Damn straight, because if you told your D.I that you were having second thoughts, he’d have his boot so far up your ass, you’d be tasting leather. This is fun, but we have a hierarchy and rules on this boat. I was clear about them, we work hard, so we can play harder. You will have fun whether you like it or not, Barb Bennett. “

Mom grinned and said that she was looking forward to that.

“The hazing, the hard work, it eventually became like an addiction. It’s kind of like a runner’s high; you get endorphins and satisfaction from the suffering. Helen dove headfirst into the water, letting it cascade down her sexy body as she got out and shook her wet blonde hair behind her.

‘If it’s vacation, why do we have to have rules at all?” Denise stammered from the water, bouncing and bobbing, enjoying the sun and arching her back as she dove backward.

“Everybody has rules, whether they realize it or not,” my cousin Shane had quietly been managing the sails and competently taking care of the craft while we were anchored off the coast. His confident actions made it seem as though he was born with an intuitive understanding of how to handle the boat, but the way he rotated the mast or raised and lowered the sail seemed arcane and counterintuitive to me.

“People can’t drive drunk, and they have to slow down at school crossings, they can’t steal, they can’t shoot off their guns at people. Those rules are what keep everyone safe, and we all agree to them. Not everybody has the same role to play, but we all have the same rules.”

My cousin was handsome, athletic, and everything that I am not. He wore his blonde hair in a close crew cut and reminded me of a young Chris Evans. His dick wasn’t hard, but it wasn’t soft either – it was like this perfect, natural Adonis length so that he could pose for a Greek statue.

“On any vacation, you can’t run off in the theme park and do your own thing because someone might get lost. You have a limit on what you can spend because you may get into debt, but you are right – on our boat, we have a few more rules because at the end of the day, we are still out in the water and we can’t afford to ignore the laws of the sea and how to operate a ship.”

The worst part about Shane was that he didn’t act like he knew he was handsome. He just seemed to take it for granted, but somehow it was impossible to be jealous of the guy because he didn’t rub it in anyone’s face.

“Sure, but why is it that we have to be naked, and we can’t play with ourselves whenever we want to?” Tracy frowned, her face become serious as she swam slowly toward the boat.

“You like playing with yourself a lot, do ya?” Shane grinned knowingly, and my cousins howled with amusement.

“NO!” Tracy blushed and backpedaled. “I just don’t know why it was even brought up as a rule that someone else can tell me when I can…do myself,” Tracy searched for the polite way to say it.

When I heard the rules, I thought they were odd, but I was too embarrassed to bring up my questions. Tracy and my mom talked privately for a while about it before Tracy reluctantly agreed and Denise would have done anything mom told her to do.

Shane started to explain, but his mother stopped him politely and said that orientation would begin after frolic time, and she’d get into all of that “You are naked because mermaids don’t need modesty, and right now you are mermaids at frolic. As to frigging yourself, you don’t have to wrap it up in polite terminology. We talk like sailors on this boat, because we ARE seamen.”

My aunt used the word seamen but it sounded like semen when she said it, and I would later come to understand that was by intention.

“My daughters love to play with themselves, and if I let them diggle their oysters whenever they wanted, then they’d never get out of bed and get jack shit done. The rules are the same for everyone on the ship – fingers out of your pussies at all times without permission. Understood?”

“No, not understood,” Tracey tried not to bristle but it was obvious that she wasn’t on board with the rule. “Why are there different rules for girls than there are for guys?”

“You definitely remind me of a hard-headed candy I used to know in the Marines,” she said, before explaining that candy was short-hand for officer candidate and implying that my sister reminded me of herself back then.

“There are different bathrooms for guys, different PT standards for guys, You were born with a slit and tits, and there is no changing what nature intended. If you had one of these swinging between your leg, you’d be on deck with Shane learning to be a Mate. Mates have their own set of standards like officers, and we enlisted do the grunt work, spit polish, stow and carry that needs to get done so that the mates can do their jobs and steer the ship and get us to our destination.”

My sister’s seething anger started to subside, as she realized no one else was on her side, and she was the only one who seemed to be questioning the hierarchy of things.

“In the military, there are different rules for the enlisted than there are for officers. There are certain places enlisted can’t go, unless they are on janitorial detail, but the rules are the same for all enlisted. We work pretty much the same way, and it’s worked for us every time we've taken a vacation. It’s not glamorous, but the work we do is necessary for the ship. I won’t ask anyone on the crew to do something that I wouldn’t do, Tracy.”

“There aren’t many things you would NOT do,” Tom added with pride in his voice.

I noticed my mom look back longingly at the deckhouse. The subtext in her face was that she wanted my dad to feel that way about her. I knew Mom considered herself plain, boring, with few interests, and I knew their marriage had been bumpy with lots of arguments and very few date nights.

I suspected that this trip was Mom’s way of getting out of her shell and trying something new.

“That’s true,” Helen agreed with her husband with a cocky smirk, from the water. “In the Marines, I was taught to try ANYTHING once, and if it didn’t render me out of commission for more than a week and the bruises healed, to do it a second time. If I learned it the second time, I do it a third time and make it standard operating procedure.”

“What if you don’t learn it?” Kevin looked down from the boat while our Aunt bobbed in the water and splashed with the other mermaids.

She tilted her head back in the water and laughed. “What if I don’t learn it? Then I will do it again anyway. In the Corps, we called that remedial training. I have a thick head, so sometimes I need to get my ass kicked by something to learn how to kick it back.”

Tom stepped out of the deck house holding an ice cold Budweiser in his hand and admired his wife from the edge of the Salty Tuna. He smiled at her as the sun glinted off his sunglasses. “I love you, you dumb Marine Sunavabitch.”

She smiled up at her husband clearly doting on him and not offended at all by his words. “I love you too, even though you are a vaselined up, glorified desk jockey squid that never saw action unless it was in the back of a Philippine whore house.”

Wow, that was crass and vulgar.

She held her mouth open wide and offered her tongue from the waterline. No fear, no hesitation on her face as she waited.

“Crayon eater,” he said with a smile as he turned the beer on it’s side and let the golden suds pour directly into his wife’s mouth, while she lapped it up like it was the best tasting treat she’d ever have.

Even though they seemed to be insulting one another, there was not only love but tremendous respect for one another in their facial expressions. My mom swooned quietly as she observed her sister slurp the beer her husband poured on her face.
“Marines don’t learn jack shit. They are born stupid. They have to just do it over and over until it becomes instinct. They act and react like fucking champions, but they can’t think, and they can’t learn,” Tom decided firmly.

His wife didn’t contradict him, if anything her smile after he turned away abruptly confirmed she agreed with him.

“My point is this,” she turned to the girls and faced them while bobbing in the water. “Doing new things isn’t just about getting tough. It isn’t just about operating the boat safely. We can do both of these things in many different ways. I just want my mermaids and Shane to try new things and find out what they actually like. They can’t do that by being timid little chair force twats who sit around all day worried that someone will see their boobies and butts.”

“Why do you call us mermaids?” Denise asked.

My aunt swam over to a rope on the side of the boat and started to haul herself up without any assistance. There was a ladder nearby but she ignored it.

“You are a mermaid during frolic time. Mermaids don’t need modesty. They have as much use for it as a Marine does. Suns out, buns are out. Mermaids don’t wear clothes because they aren’t issued any. You wag your tails, giggle and fart around in the water, free as a fish or a bird, singing your songs, laughing at your jokes, no hierarchy – let your hair down, get wet. As long as you don’t diddle yourself or jeopardize anyone’s safety, you can pretty much do as you please.”

Denise looked a little embarrassed when masturbation was mentioned. She pretended she never did it when we were first told about the rule. “I don’t play with myself.”

“Bullshit,” Helen didn’t hesitate to call my sister out. “You can’t bullshit an old bullshitter, and I was trained by the best. Marines spend half their boot camp wading knee-deep in bullshit, and the other half learning how to smell it from a mile away so we know when the Navy has finally arrived to take credit for what the Marines had just accomplished.”

I HAD to laugh out loud at that. It was so candid and funny.

“Everyone plays with the toy they are issued at birth. Anyone who says they don’t is a damned liar.

It’s natural and it’s normal to find ways to amuse yourself with it. I am not trying to tell you it isn’t. Don’t piss on me and tell me it’s raining, Denise. You play with that puffy little box between your thighs when you think no one is looking.”

My little sister dropped under the water to hide herself, but when she came up, my Aunt was waiting to finish her thought.

“If you don’t play with yourself, then you won’t have a problem anyway. You’ll breeze through this cruise without a problem. The rules will be simple for you to follow. If you are lying, because you are under some delusion that I want to play fairy tale hour with you and pretend that you’re some prissy virgin ninny who’s never played with her own gear, that’s not going to go well for you. Your Mom has already given me all the skinny on you two sluts, and you may not be as horny as my girls – but I am positive you diddle your twiddle. Don’t you?”

My little sister blushed and looked down at her feet.

“The answer is not on the deck. Look at me when I address you. Mermaids answer EVERY question from ANYONE fully, to the point, and honestly. Do you finger yourself?”

“Yes,” Denise stammered. I felt bad for her because she looked so humiliated, but at the same time, it was kind of funny in a way. She often acted like a prude and usually called me and Kevin “nasty” for even the slightest rude joke.

“You won’t be allowed to finger bang your snapper any time you want, Denise. That doesn’t mean you won’t. You’ll grow to desire, anticipate, and get to the edge of orgasm when you want to cum so fucking desperately that you’ll see permission to rub one out as a reward. The biggest bonus is that after bottling up those nasty thoughts and sexual desires when you finally do get permission to open up the water works and let it go, you’ll have an explosive orgasm like you’ve never had. You don’t play until the work has been done and you’ve earned it.”

“Is it like this for my cousins all the time, or just on vacation?” Denise asked, with obvious concern for them and a red face.

“Nixie and Waverly love their little wet gashes more than they love each other. They wouldn’t hesitate to rub one out in front of the pope and the president of the United States if they had the chance, they are horny little twats just like me and that doesn’t change when they are not on vacation.”

Nixie and Waverly didn’t seem capable of being embarrassed, but they both grew red in the face and looked like they wanted to hide under the water as well. They didn’t dispute their mother’s accusations. If anything, the guilty look on their face confirmed it.

They didn’t look unrepentant about it at all. Their faces flashed with an innocent expressions like they couldn’t help themselves, and knew it was wrong.

“At home, they don’t get mermaid time. There are no bodies of water; they can earn release when they are well behaved, and Tweedle Dee and Twattle Dum are MUCH better behaved when they are wound up and desperate for an orgasm.”

“Does that also apply to Shane?” Tracy scrunched her nose in disgust.

“I already told you orientation hasn’t begun yet, but you two candy seamen seemed fascinated with spoiling mermaid time for yourselves. I should warn you that if you waste this time, your next mermaid time may not be until tomorrow when we find harbor down the Florida coast.”

Denise and Tracy looked at each other, silently deciding whether they should continue with their line of questioning.

“The rules are different for girls and guys in our house, and on our boat. I am sure in your house, the guys and girls aren’t treated exactly the same, are they? Do you help your mom with the cooking?” Helen continued the lecture despite the warning that everyone should wait.

“Yeah,” Denise smiled enthusiastically. “Mom doesn’t let me help that much because she says that it’s more work to tell me what I am doing wrong.”

My mom blushed.

“No,” Tracy admitted that she doesn’t offer or get asked.

“On the boat, everyone pulls their weight and contributes according to their role. There is no dead weight on the Salty Tuna. My girls don’t listen, giggle too much, and have short attention spans, but I invest the time to teach them to cook and clean to Marine standards.”

“I wish it were Navy standards,” Tom joked from the deck house. Marine standards are licking your supper off the floor like a dog, hosing off in the yard with cold water, and calling mud on your ass a shower. Marines’ll eat chow fit for barnyard animals and thank you for it.”

“No, Marine standards are the floor polished so clean you could eat off it, and not cry like a squid bitch navy puke that your food was cold. Marine standards are hosing off in the yard so you can get the mud off your ass and the sweat out of your crotch and get back to the mission. We don’t have any manuals on necessary luxuries because Marines make do with what we have at hand.”

Tom had no comeback to his wife’s witty explanation.

“Not everyone can be an officer. If that were the case, NOTHING would get done. Everyone would stand around waiting for an NCO to come along and clean up their mess, and this boat WOULD sink. The enlisted are the backbone of any organization. You girls are candy seamen. You can like it, love it, or hate it. You can’t change it. The moment your mom signed the three of you up, you stopped being sand crabs and got a job to execute. You can only do one thing, and that’s do that job well.”

Tracy shut up and listened to our Aunt Helen break things down clearly and without raising her voice – but remaining firm and confident. There was an obvious military cadence to how she explained things that made it sound like this was simply common sense.

“Candy seamen are the bottom rung, the basic bitch. You do grunt work. You don’t think, you execute. My greatest pleasure in being a marine was when I could wake up every day and perform my job, knowing that I didn’t have to waste time thinking about what I would do with my time that day. I knew exactly what was expected of me, and I could focus on getting it done.”

Tracy didn’t seem to like what was being said, but she didn’t interrupt.

“My girls have been Candy seamen every year since my husband bought this boat. This year, they are Senior Seamen; they will have to think, work harder, and do more. The dumbest thing an enlisted person can do is get promoted. They will learn to take pride in their work and a job well done but they aren’t going to be telling you what to do unless you ask them. Your mother had the option to be an NCO and have some authority. She chose to be a candy seamen just like her daughters.”

“I don’t know the first thing about sailing,” Barb admitted.

“It shows,” Her sister didn’t miss a beat with the quip. “I am the ONLY NCO on this ship, but I am still enlisted just like all the girls. I will tell you what to do, I will tell you how to do it, I will not always be nice, but you will learn what is expected of you and why. I am considered the HEAD Seaman, or Cow – commanding officer's wife.”

Tom joked that she should moo for them, but suddenly, my father and Shane turned to look in the distance. There was a boat coming up fast.

[EddieDavidson]

“Okay, Mermaids. We’ll continue your sand crab orientation and get you out of diapers so you can crawl on deck without shitting on my deck and puking your guts out on my brightwork.

I later learned that brightwork referred to the varnished wood trim around hatches, rails, and handholds, and it was a huge obsession for my Aunt to keep it well-polished and oiled.

“But they are way out there,” Nixie bounced excitedly, as if she was trying to flash her tits at the boat on the horizon.

Shane shaded his eyes with one hand and kept the other steady on the main sheet. “That’s a forty-footer, close-hauled and pushing about six knots at least, they’ll be here in under thirty on a direct course.”

“Close,” his father held up binoculars, “That’s no lazy six-knot cruiser. They’ve got their diesel wide open, pushing eight or nine knots. Look at the white water curling off their nose. They’re already pointed right at us, steady bearing. Two miles out, maybe less. That puts them on top of us in fifteen minutes, max.”

“The wake will knock my sisters’ tits off,” Shane seemed concerned.
“Let’s put some distance between us and our mermaids’ sweet titties just to be safe,” Tom declared with confidence. “Ease the main, Shane,” Tom snapped, hand still on the wheel. “Let it breathe, just a hand’s width.”

He bellowed an order to his wife, but he called her Stormy. “Stormy, break out the ground tackle. Get that hook off the bottom now!

She was already moving forward, grabbing the windlass handle, anticipating the instruction, and putting her back into it. My mom offered to help, but my aunt waved her away.

“Tip the anchor, stow it clean,” Tom added, watching the bow swing. “I want the rode clear, no slack tangling when we come about.”

“Aye,” my Aunt replied curtly without any snark. She was about her job and suddenly, being naked didn’t matter at all.

Shane ducked under the boom, loosening the sheet an inch at a time. The sail bellied, then steadied, the Tuna’s nose swinging off the other boat’s line.


I felt useless because all I could do was stand there and remain out of the way with Kevin and my mother.

“Good. Now bring the jib over. Don’t haul it tight yet, let it luff half a second. There—catch the wind, fill it. Keep her bow off their wake.”

“Whats a jib?” Kevin snickered at me as he stood next to me and observed.

“I have no idea,” I admitted in a whisper.

“It sounds dirty. I think the jib is the flap between a woman’s asshole lips and her pussy.”

“That’s the taint,” I said.

“Yeah, but it’s like pussy and cunt. The jib is like the dirty part when you want to flick it after you fuck them.”

“You have never fucked anyone,” I whispered, increasingly annoyed.

“Why are you pissed off. We can’t help. We’d only get in the way if we tried,” Kevin frowned at me.

I didn’t answer. I suppose like my mother, I wanted my relationship with my father to improve on this vacation. My dad made himself look busy but he wasn’t doing anything either.

Tom and my cousin Shane worked in perfect harmony, winding, cranking and adjusting things in a way that I couldn’t fully comprehend until the boat started to glide away from the girls. We didn’t abandon them; we were simply diverting our boat away from them.

The speedboat closed the distance and altered course for us. They couldn’t see the girls in the water from where they were. I was worried that they would alter course to them when they finally saw them, but I saw four naked butts dash to the shore as the girls hid in the Georgia brush near the beach.

Shane gave the winch a crank, eyes on the telltales fluttering green and red. The jib snapped full, pulling the bow a few degrees aside.

“Perfect. Hold her there,” Tom said, calm again. “We’ll give the girls a lee side, water stays flat. They won’t get churned up when that asshole plows by.”

“I think they want to parlay,” my father observed, pointing his beer in the direction of some laughing frat boys with sunglasses and sunblock on their nose.

“Fucking college boy dick heads,” Tom lamented, but waved as if he wanted to see them. It was inevitable that the college guys were heading our way.

“Watch your wake,” Tom shouted futilely. If anything, the college guys entire purpose in heading in our direction was the equivalent of someone in a hot rod spinning their tire and revving their engine to show off. They had come this far in order to create a massive wake that rocked the boat.

The speedboat shot past, white water curling off its nose. A second later, the wake hit us, and the Salty Tuna rolled hard. The cooler banged into my leg, beer sloshed, and Tom grabbed the wheel to steady us.

“Jesus, hold tight,” Tom barked as the boat lurched. I realized that we were at the mercy of the wake. The huge ripples and current that the boat created when it came about could have capsized us or knocked someone off the ship.

The Salty Tuna was almost 39 feet, but it was shallow compared to this speedboat and intended to ride over waves, not through them. I had to grab the railing and hang on.

My mother instinctively turned to Kevin and me, dramatically motioning to the nearby life vests, but it wasn’t that bad. I was almost embarrassed by how over protective she had been.

Meanwhile, Shane stood on deck completely naked and unashamed. He was built like these guys, looked like he would be one of them, with his square jaw and handsome looks. He stood there quietly, making it clear he was not amused, and he was set apart -not like them at all.

“Nice Dick!” the lead frat boy said.

“You came all this way to suck it? Come on board then,” Shane replied without an ounce of fear.
I couldn’t imagine antagonizing a bunch of frat guys, and I couldn’t imagine my parents’ reaction if I had said the same thing. Tom remained quiet, but strutted out once the wake subsided.

She didn’t wave like a stripper on stage to be ogled, but she also made her presence known by helping Shane with something he was doing. I felt like my aunt had chosen to be a distraction and prevent a confrontation.

“Your girlfriend is hot!” the lead douche bag in a Kappa Sigma jersey held his hands around his mouth and shouted.

“Thanks fellas, but I am his mom,” Helen turned on as if she were waiting for them to acknowledge her and waved, smiling like an attention seeking bimbo at a beauty pageant. She placed one hand on her thigh and waved with the other, presenting a huge smile.

“NOICE TITS!” a few of them cat-called, commenting on her body, and my Aunt played along and strutted for them so they could have a good look from their boat.

“Thank you! We are just going skinny dipping today. WNicole take some pictures? Be my guests!” my Aunt’s south Georgia accent softened into liquid country peaches and slid out of her mouth like honey.

“Momma’s old, but I bet she knows how to suck a dick!” one of the frat boys grinned wickedly, and the encounter's tone shifted quickly. They became far more malicious as they laughed sadistically.

I had just seen this tough marine talk about kicking ass, and she put my older sister in her place without any trouble at all. I expected my Aunt Helen to dive off the ship, and beat them into submission with their own cocks.

“I shore do, lots of practice, sugar!” Helen smiled, picked up a winch handle that was shaped like a curved baton, held it to her mouth and began to suck on it, while dancing lewdly and showing off.

My mind was blown that she was doing this in front of everyone, and I was livid she was entertaining these guys after they made such a nasty comment. I knew she was smart enough to recognize their sarcasm but I didn’t understand why she would humiliate herself that way.

“Oooh, deep throat!” The frat guys collectively made dirty cat calls.

“She’s even sluttier than your mom, Cooper,” one of them turned on his own. These kind of glamorous douche-bags tended to have a pack mentality.

“You would know, Henderson. You fucked her. Does my mom have a fat ass like this bitch?” Cooper asked pointedly, clearly offended by the guy’s comment.

“Take a good long look and tell me what you think? Is it fat, boys?” My aunt removed the winch from her throat just long enough that she could say that while turning around and bending over at the waist, legs apart to show off her ass. My aunt returned the winch to her throat, still dripping with saliva like she couldn’t get enough of the taste of rubber.

“It’s so fat, that anybody that likes it, cannot lie,” one of the guys made a reference to the Sir Mix-A-Lott song. His friends groaned and rejected it.

My Aunt looked over her shoulder, winked at him, smiled, while sucking on the winch, and began to twerk her ass cheeks so they would flap back and forth.

I wanted to warn her that these guys weren’t worth entertaining, but no one else moved, not even Shane.

“She’s had more balls bounce off her chin than a ping pong table.”

My Aunt didn’t react other than to smile and affirm it while pretending to try to catch invisible cocks and balls as they flew at her face and suck on the winch.

‘That pussy is like a drive-thru for cocks, I bet she’s fucked all the niggers in Georgia!”

Helen smiled but disagreed. “I am an equal opportunity whore – I don’t discriminate. I let anyone put it in any hole, any time, any place, Honey!”

The guys crowed excitedly as my Aunt leaned into the role of an over-sexed sweet Georgia peach that loves cock and showing off. All the while they snapped pictures of her showing them everything she had.

“Look at that ass! That guy’s mom has been fucked so many times up the ass that she could sit down on a dick and not even feel it.”

Shane had enough of their teasing, “Most women probably say that after they sit on your dick, you college prick.”

His mother touched his arm, to suggest he refrain from intervening, while continuing to dance and shake her naked ass, inviting their ridicule.

“You’ll be washing these college pricks' cars, and mowing our grass for the rest of your life,” one of them shouted back.

“I’ll be fucking your wives and daughters too,” Shane assured them.

The guys on the boat didn’t back down. Instead, they grew incensed and angry. “If you want to fight, let’s do it,” Shane countered.

“Tough guy, I bet he sucks on those mommy milkers every night while she sings him a lullaby,” Cooper said to his friends, clearly not willing to take Shane up on his offer.

She cupped her tits in both hands, pressing them together, and stuck her tongue out while turning to show them to the guys. “Don’t act like you wouldn’t drink every drop. Cooper, is it? Maybe I knew your momma. Has she ever worked at the Landing strip or the Cheetah?”

The crowd of douche bags erupted into crowing, mostly focused on mocking Cooper after Helen implied his mother worked as an exotic dancer.

The boys whooped and clapped, cameras flashing again.

“You boys about done taking pictures? We can fight or fuck, we can even do both but I am getting kind of bored standing here letting you look at my pretty bald pussy.”

She reached down and began to frig herself in front of the guys, and they lost it – collectively snapping pictures, hooting and hollering and encouraging her.

“Do it, Lady!” They began to shout a line from ap popular internet meme, and encourage Helen to play with herself. “Get that nasty pussy nice and wet!”

“Oh, you like it?”

The guys howled, tossing back beers and egging her on louder.

“You can whip it out and play with yours, too. I’ve shown you mine,” Helen made no secret of what she was doing and didn’t look the least bit capable of humiliation.

Instead of flinching, she just kept smiling, soaking up every filthy word like she’d been waiting her whole week for it while the guys slowly petered out and realized that nothing they said could shock her.

“You guys didn’t cream your shorts already, did you? We were just getting started,” Helen looked disappointed when the guys ran out of steam and began to head out. They left a big wake as they left, flipped us off, and threw their empty beer cans in the ocean as they rode away and left us with a wake.

It felt like a huge weight had been lifted once they were gone. Their engine was loud and furious, and their wake was big, but just like a metaphor for all their bluster and bravado, it had left no lasting impact. They were just annoying and powerless rich twits who could not ultimately impress or intimidate anyone.

My aunt shook her finger, as if she was trying to flick her viscous, snotty pussy juice back into the sea.

Nobody said anything at first, just the sound of water sucking along the fiberglass.

Tom finally broke the silence, steady at the wheel. “Good initiative, bad judgment. I know why you put on your little dog and pony show, but that was some straight gun-decking, and you know it.” He didn’t raise his voice, but it seemed like he was neither jealous nor shocked by his wife’s brazen behavior.

I had no idea what gun-decking meant, but it was obvious to me that his wife did, because she grinned churlishly and shrugged. “Grant me a little salty workaround before we get underway. Those little rich boys wanted a show, so I gave them one so they would leave us in peace.”

Helen still had that grin on her face, like she’d just chewed glass and liked the crunch. She wrung her wet hair over her shoulder.

“Help me understand if I am talking to Gunny Sergeant Helen Devlin, or Stormy the Head Mermaid on this tin can,” he dressed her down as she stood naked in front of him and tried but failed to look apologetic.

“Those boys were looking for trouble, and I made a snap decision. Was it the wrong one?” She didn’t answer her husband’s question.

“No, but that finger puppet show that you put on was your last on the upper deck without permission.”

“For today?” she smiled hopefully.

“Request denied in advance, you’ll be told when and if you can toss your tuna. Everything else you did was commendable, Stormy.”

Helen preened at her husband. “I love it when you call me that.”

Shane was waiting in the background for his turn to talk to his father. His jaw was tight and his fists were clenched.

“Do you want to earn Deefob on our first day out port, Son?” Tom asked. “What did you think might happen during that little goat rope? You invite your friends on board and kick their asses one by one?

“I wasn’t going to let them talk like that to my mom,” Shane insisted.

“Oh shit, honey. Your father may be right to designate you the dumbest fuck on board,” Stormy held her son’s chin lovingly with amusement on her face. I worked out quickly that Deefob must be the abbreviation for dumbest fuck on board.

Shane backed away and huffed.

“I’ve been called worse than that on my first day as a fresh-faced Barracks Bunny. They got me excited, I wasn’t pissed off, and I didn’t take anything they said personally. You’re a good son,” Helen softened, hand brushing his arm. “But I don’t need you brawling every time someone calls me fat or horny. I signed up to be the lightning rod. That’s my job here.”


“Shane, you have to set an example for your cousins. If you take the bait when these ass licks start talking shit and play their game, you are going to lose even if you win the fight. Your mom and I know these kinds of pricks. They reminded me of Marines, looking for a fight and too dumb to know they would lose if they tried it.”

“Funny, they reminded me of Navy Squids, because even though I offered to blow each and every one of them, all they could do was watch with their cocks in their hands.”

[EddieDavidson]

I was shocked that my aunt was so brazen and sounded like she would really have gone that far with them if they had dared to board the ship. I could tell from my aunt’s body language after she finished her performance, that she expected to hear it from Tom and Shane -as if they might be angry with her.

However, she quickly shifted her demeanor to one of someone who was fully justified and not embarrassed at all about the dirty show she just put on – even wiping her spit off the winch like it was a routine task and she hadn’t just deep throated it.

“You wouldn’t really have sucked their dicks?” Shane asked.

“A prick is a prick, they all shoot the same load, get a guy off, and he’s putty, literally in your hands. I would have had them fully sucked and tucked back in for bed at a rate of knots.

Shane grinned when his mother said that and nodded approvingly.

“Sorry that we are speaking so much military lingo,” My Aunt turned to me and my little brother. “We get out at sea, and in a gagglefuck situation like that and it just comes out. You can take the girl out of the marine corps, but you can’t take the marine corps out of the girl.”

“Yeah, and the entire Marine Corps has been inside that walking mattress,” Tom laughed.

“Hey, why didn’t you give lessons on how to get me all hot and bothered to those fancy lads when they were here trying to impress me. It was all I could not to laugh at them when they quoted Sir Mix A Lott!”

“I like Big Butts and I cannot lie,” Tom sang cheerfully, and his wife shook her ass, while Shane danced around. My little brother joined in for a brief moment.

We noticed that the girls were on the beach trying to get our attention. Tom sighed and said “We could leave those beach monkeys on the shore and have a good vacation without them,” Tom joked to my parents and his wife before ordering Shane to about the ship to pick them up. He honked his horn to let them know he was on the way.

“Wow, I knew you were a Marine, Aunt Helen, but I didn’t know you were such a bad ass,” Kevin said.

“My Mom was a real Jane Wayne,” Shane bragged.

“I wouldn’t say that,” Helen shrugged and instantly shifted her body language to be far more humble about her service. She changed the subject and asked him what he thought an honest Marine was like. She offered us both ice cold water from the cooler, bending over, with no thought to the fact her pussy lips were visible when she did.

“I don’t mean it like that,” Kevin assured her he meant no offense. “I just think of a Marine as someone who is probably always barking out orders and tough, but you laugh a lot and smile all the time. You were firm with my sisters, but you are always super nice to me,” He held up the water bottle as proof.

“You need ice-cold water; anyone can have it on deck. The sun is going to be hotter than a Jalapeno up your ass while you stand in piss ants.”

“Can I have one?” my mom was standing nearby.

“GIY, Lesson one of your orientation, get it yourself, Barb. I’ll hand water to the mates. You work for me now. You get your own water.”

My mom didn’t seem offended or even that surprised by that. She simply bent over and got herself a bottle of water, “You need to start thinking of your mermaid name, because Barb isn’t going to cut it.”

“Why do we need Mermaid names?” My mother asked.

“I went over this when I talked about the standard operating procedures on the Salty Tuna,” Helen seemed annoyed.

“My wife LOVES rules and standard operating procedures.”

“Oh, shut up and color,” Helen teased her husband playfully. “We don’t have many rules on upper decks, and we have very few during frolic time. It’s mostly lower deck stuff, and don’t tell Waverly this because she thinks the names are pure whimsy, but there is a practical side too. It puts you in a new mindset and allows you to leave Barb at home. It’s got to be short and sweet, something that can be yelled quickly like a call sign. Once Tom and Shane start calling me Stormy, it’s on. It starts to feel real, and what happens on the boat while I am Stormy doesn’t change our relationship when I go back to being Helen George.”

I didn’t understand. I piped up and asked if there were Mermaid names for guys.

Helen did a spit take with her water and laughed. The rest of her family did as well. They regarded me as if I were an idiot.

“Guys can’t be mermaids, because they have cocks,” Helen told me as if she were explaining the birds and the bees to a child. She glanced down at my erection and said that I’d need to see a Doctor if I had that boner for six hours or more. “I just so happen to be a doctor,” she teased.

“Proctology doesn’t count,” Tom frowned and then answered my question for me. “You are a Mate, or a Mate candidate. You could think of it as an ensign. The only guys we’ve ever had on the Salty Tuna are my son and me. Every now and then, we’ve brought along some of Helen’s Dependapotamus friends, and that turned into a total clusterfuck.”

“Cathy isn’t a Dependapotamus,” Helen placed her hands on her hips and seemed offended. “I know you thought she was lazy, but her and her girls worked hard last summer.”

“She is a lazy slut that bitches more than she works, lives off her husband’s military check, doesn’t do jack shit,” Tom counted off a list of things that he didn’t like about her.

“Yes, that’s all true, but the reason she agreed to the cruise was to change that, and by the end, I think she and her daughters were ship-shape and learned some things.”

“You would have better luck teaching a Marine not to eat crayons at a Crayola store,” Tom groaned before continuing to explain why I didn’t need a nickname. “As I said, it’s just been me and Shane and we didn’t want to create anything too complicated for you and your brother. We aren’t super formal, so don’t expect to be called Ensign or Sir. You will be George, and he will be Kevin. Your dad will be Dennis. You are all Mates. You can go below decks any time you want. Shane will teach you how to work the nav station and check the engines, fuel up, and do some basic maintenance. As long as you don’t Fubar my boat, put my tools back where you found them – HOW you found them, and don’t go on a power trip with the seaman – you can do the same things we can.”

I didn’t know very much about what my role was. My mother told me I was a “mate”. My aunt spent a long time talking to her about my sisters and her, but not much about me and my brother.

“That’s some Orientation, Captain,” Helen snickered as the boat coasted over to the girls on the beach. She winked at us and told us there were more perks after the sun went down below decks.

“Perks? They’d have to do something to earn those. No offense, boys, but you are about as useless as a chair force three-star general. I’d sooner slap a wig on you both and make a seaman out of you. Bum Chums. Dennis, you are alright but you are fucking one of my Seamen, and your only job seems to be drinking my beer and laughing at my jokes.”

My father offered to help in any way he could and said he’d reimburse him for his beer.

“My husband is just busting your balls, Dennis. The beer is on us until it runs out, and no one expects the three of you to know what to do until you are shown. My husband is just being a prissy baby,” she snickered. “He’ll show you all around and get you squared away. I am more concerned about your wife and daughters getting used to standard operating procedures on the Tuna.”

“Remember, we are at Sea, and you may want to use your tongue for more than sucking dick and licking ass,” Tom’s threat was bold and blunt but seemed facetious. You want me to draw a picture of their ass so they know where their shit comes out? Your nephew will learn, or he goes overboard, Stormy.” Tom seemed gruff, but he was a teddy bear at heart.

“He is YOUR nephew too, and is it Stormy or Helen, now?”

“That depends,” Tom considered his wife’s question and spoke slowly to establish that he set the tone for things. He didn’t talk down to her, but he also didn’t seem all that concerned about her question. The subtext of his tone squarely established that they were not on equal footing, but rather than grow angry, I noticed that my aunt accepted it.

She bristled slightly, but it was almost as if she was relieved that he took his time responding to her question. “Are you going to be a hot-heated, slutty shit bag that shows your ass to total strangers, and tries to impress your sister, while telling me to go color when I give you an order?”

I couldn’t believe how crass he was with his wife. My parents argued, but this wasn’t arguing either. The vulgarity was spoken as if it was simply their normal way of communicating and his wife didn’t seem surprised by how he spoke to her.

My aunt was no doormat, but it was obvious that she accepted and approved of a hierarchy in their relationship. My parents had one as well, with my father firmly as head of household. He made all the big spending decisions, and my mother handled the petty stuff. I assumed it was like that with most families.

However, Tom George’s family was not like most families, and I always knew that.

Helen flashed a wintry smile, without taking offense, and seemed dismissive of his concerns. “You know you are the CMFWIC,” she held his arm and explained, “Chief Mother Fucker Who's in Charge. I am just the COW on this floating tin can.”

“You are more than a Cow. You are head bitch now, Stormy. You set the tone. Nixie and Giggles know their roles, but they wanted more this year. You brought in three cherry seamen who are going to follow the example you set. Am I going to have code red, like we did two years ago, to get you to stop telling Shane what he can and cannot do?”

Shane didn’t say anything. He looked quiet.

“You don’t have to code red me. You are the head honcho, but it’s not easy to transition from Momma bear to Stormy the Mermaid.”

“I don’t remember you ever doing anything the EASY way, Stormy,” her husband said as he waved the girls back onto the boat. “Let’s go, Cherries. Frolic time is over. If you want to get left behind, now is the time to get lazy. I don’t do headcounts when shore leave is over.”

Nixie, Waverly, Denise, and Tracy swam over to us, happy to be back on board.

“Fall in, seamen, it’s Mermaid time. You had the mer time, now we do the maid time. As of this moment, and in the future for this voyage, we are all mermaids – me included. I am Stormy, not Mom, not Aunt Helen, definitely not Ma’am. I work for a fucking living. If you call me any of those things from now on, you will be licking the deck clean enough you can eat off of it.”

As the girls got on deck, hair wet, bodies dripping wet, she asked them to line up and told them that they had to sound off with their mermaid name. “This is the name that sticks with you for the vacation -it’s for the duration. Make it good, make it fit you. It can be whimsical, it doesn’t have to be derogatory, but it DOES have to be short enough that we can all say it and remember it.”

Helen held up her fingers like she was measuring out a tiny, invisible dick.

“Um, Mom what does derrr-a-um-derragotorry, mean?” Waverly asked politely with her hand up.

“What did I just tell you to call me?” Helen didn’t raise her voice, but when she glided toward her daughter, Waverly immediately realized her mistake. All Helen had to do was point to the deck at Waverly’s feet and her daughter went down to her knees on the wooden deck and began to lick.

“That was your decision to lick the deck, Waverly. I told you what would happen, and you chose to break the rules.
My brother and I were shocked that Waverly hadn’t protested or offered any defense. She simply went down to the deck, extended her fat pink tongue and began to lick it.

My sisters, on the other hand, looked absolutely terrified.

Stormy folded her arms under her tits, observing Waverly smear her tongue across the planks. “Why are you even asking what derogatory means, Giggles? Giggles is ALWAYS your mermaid name. You can’t stop laughing at every damn thing, so that’s what sticks.”

Waverly nodded, but continued lapping up the dry, hot deck, trying not to giggle and failing.

My Aunt snapped her fingers and pointed down. “Push-up position. Knees off the deck, Full body straight, legs apart and wide, Support yourself on your toes, and palms- let those fat new tits of yours rest flat under you so you can get in the cracks and give the Salty Tuna a proper taste. Do you still want to know what derogatory is?”

Waverly nodded, tried to suppress her giggles, trembling already, ass up in the air.

“It’s like code red, except it becomes your name. In the military, they call you Private Pyle or Private Gumby to put you in your place and establish you are not at their level. It’s meant to reinforce that you are at the low end of the totem pole. I was Private Cupcake at first, and I got a promotion to Private Queef,” Stormy admitted.

Her daughter found that hilarious and broke up; she couldn’t stop herself from laughing.

Stormy had a hard time not smiling and kept her face stony and serious. “I am glad that amuses you, Seaman. Maybe this year, we change your mermaid name to bimbo or puffy-tits?”

“No, please. I like Giggles, Stormy.”

“What did you call me?” Stormy squatted down at her daughter’s face, opened her legs as if she was going to piss on the back of Waverly’s head.

“Stormy?”

“That’s good. Do you want Giggles, again this year?”

“Yes,” her daughter admitted.

“Good, that’s who you are until we get back. Giggles the dumb fuck bimbo that can’t stop playing with her new titties. Are you ready to work hard and have your ass kicked?”

“Yes, Um…Stormy,” Giggles quivered.

“Get your lazy ass up and stop slobbering on my deck with your Cheeto breath,” my Aunt helped her daughter up, while Giggles laughed hysterically about the Cheetos.

“Yeah, don’t think I don’t know you and your sister swiped Cheetos from the galley.”

“They were stale and in the garbage, Stormy,” Giggles became defensive, and blushed hard now that she was being singled out. It was obvious from her body language she wanted to blame her older sister.

“Do you want your meal served out of the trash, Giggles?”

“No,” Stormy pouted.

“Then don’t eat out of the garbage. Girls don’t need snacks like that. It goes straight to your thighs, and ass, and makes your breath stink like your sweaty asshole. Your father cut me some slack earlier, so I’ll cut you some slack, Giggles. I won’t ask him to assign you Extra Punitive Duties for this one, but you aren’t allowed snacks at home – so you both know better.”

“Extra punitive duties? What the fuck?” Tracy frowned angrily.

“I’ve already explained to your brothers that we slip in and out of military lingo, and the boat brings it out in us.” Stormy smiled patiently at my sister and approached her. “EPD assignments that need to be done by some house mouse on this craft are usually performed by the brattiest and mouthiest. Something tells me that you are going to drastically reduce our workload by ending up with ALL the EPD. Now, do you have any more questions, or have you given any thought to your Mermaid name?”

“I can’t really think of one,” my sister admitted, trying to avoid looking directly into Helen’s eyes.

“You have had an entire week since your mother and I took the time to discuss the rules on this boat. Give me your top three and I’ll pick for you?”

Tracy couldn’t or wouldn’t think of anything.

“How does Jinx sound?” my Aunt asked with a smile on her face. I saw Tom laugh, but I didn’t know why.

“Yeah, that’s good,” Tracy agreed. I would later learn that the term meant someone who brings bad luck everywhere they go, and is usually a pilot who is easy to shoot down.

“Jinx it is. You won’t answer to Tracy Bennett. You won’t answer to anything else except for Jinx, although bitch, bimbo, snot-rag and rat face will be a good substitute.”

My sister’s face went pale, and her mouth plopped open as my Aunt looked over her shoulder to see that my mother was standing awkwardly off to the side.

“I said Mermaids fall in. Do you have a cock in between those hairy flaps?” Stormy dressed down my mom. My mother dashed over to where the others were and took a position standing casually facing her sister in a line by the side of the boat.
“We should call you blush because you turn red easy, Sis. You told me you could handle the boat rules and now you look like you want to jump ship.”

“No, I am just not used to being spoken to this way, Stormy.”

“Get used to it. It’s too much work being polite, but it’s also too much work being a hard ass. Most of the time, I will just tell you what I need you to do, and if you do it, we won’t have to go through this. You've heard my husband talk about Code Red. That’s issued when we have a brat on board who thinks she is hot shit and doesn’t have to carry her water. Code red is open season on cunts with egos. It’s somewhat akin to Navy hazing of new recruits. It’s not as bad as Marine hazing. If you want a challenge, try Marine Corps basic training and then a week of Code Red with my husband and son.”

“What was harder? Marine basic, or Code red?” Shane asked his mother with a grin.

“Basic,” she answered without hesitation. He seemed annoyed by her response but let the matter drop.

“I told you to stand in line. You stood off to the side like you were confused about being a mermaid. You are already starting off disobedient after promising me that you would be a good sport and fall in line. We have a well-ordered way of doing things. It’s not for everybody. I can’t promise you that my husband will turn back, but it’s a short swim to shore. Now is the time to jump off this barge and high tail it back to your Country Clubs and pedicures.”

“I don’t belong to a country club,” my mom groaned defensively. I’ve never seen her look more uncomfortable while she was being grilled. I noticed that my father seemed amused by my mother’s dressing down. She didn’t look like she was even thinking about turning around.


I could tell from my older sister’s face that she expected her to quit.

I was torn, because she was my mom and I didn’t think she was a bad person who deserved a comeuppance. At the same time, she had agreed to these rules, and my mother seemed kind of mousey and timid now as she quaked in front of her sister. Her big, fat tits shook and jiggled slightly as she just took whatever my Aunt gave her.

“Jinx seems to believe you can’t or won’t hack it, and you will not perform on this cruise, and I am starting to think that I agree with her,” Stormy told my mother.

I had no idea that my sister had said that.

“I told you both that I will do it, Hell…Stormy, and I will. Give me a chance to prove myself. I think it’s the best thing for us.”

“Why is that?” Helen asked.

“Can we talk about it when we are below decks?” My mom nervously glanced at me and Kevin.

“No, I told you there is no privacy on this vessel, not even a door on the head. A conversation below decks is never private. It’s a bit late for Kevin and George not to know the rules you signed up for, isn’t it?”

“I am okay with them knowing the rules. It’s just a little embarrassing to talk about it like this.”

“The truth is powerful stuff, and sometimes it’s embarrassing. I am a seaman just like you, and my son just watched me suck on a metal pole like it was a dick. I was embarrassed, but I suck dick and I am really good at it. I don’t pretend I am anything I am not. I’d be far more embarrassed by that.”

I liked what my Aunt had to say, and my mom seemed to agree with it as well. My aunt repeated her question. “Why do you think it’s the best for thing for you to go on vacation with us?”

“I think we could use a little discipline, and it will be exciting to do a nude cruise,” my mom said while her face turned beet red.

“That’s it?” my Aunt seemed disappointed.

My mother shook her head yes.

“On this boat, Mermaids answer questions with yes or no, and usually they say yes. The wind makes it hard to hear, and you can’t assume someone heard you. How often do you play with yourself, Barb?”

My mom’s face turned a new shade of red, and she got all bent out of shape, looking around. Jinx couldn’t contain her sarcastic laughter, which set Giggles off laughing. My Aunt wasn’t going to stop until she got an answer.

“A few times a week,” mom stammered, looking over at Dennis.

“Is that right, Dennis?” Stormy looked over her shoulder with skepticism on her face. My father said he couldn’t confirm or deny, and Stormy insisted that my mom tell her the truth this time. “You already told me you have toys. How often?”

“Every night,” mom admitted, like she was ashamed of herself.

“How long?”

“Until Dennis comes to bed, usually,” my mom looked completely mortified as she admitted the truth.

Nixie and Denise seemed to find that incredulous and looked jealous, but kept their comments largely to their selves.

“On this tub, you don’t touch that pussy without permission. Dennis can give you that permission. You understand that, right?”

My mother started to nod her head, but quickly answered, “Yes, Stormy.”

“We should probably make your Mermaid name Horny Slut or Nympho,” my Aunt teased before asking her what name she had chosen.

“Pearl?” my mom asked without giving it much thought. It seemed like she had already chosen it because she is usually rather thoughtful.

“Why Pearl?” Stormy asked.

“Pearl is a treasure to be desired. It takes time and patience to form, so it isn’t just handed out. It’s something that comes out of pressure and struggle, but once you have it, you cherish it. I thought… others would think of me that way, instead of just ordinary. I want him to see me as something rare and worth keeping.”

It was very sweet and endearing.


Stormy gave a sly smirk. “Or maybe you’re just a horny clam trying to hide that slippery little pearl in your shell until someone pries it open.” She winked. “You look more like a clam to me, but Pearl is a good choice. You obviously gave a lot of thought to that after we first talked about the rules on the boat. That’s your new name for the summer. I like it. Short, sweet, and you may end up with a pearl necklace.”

My mother didn’t get the reference, but Kevin and I did. Everyone else did, because we all laughed about the idea of a pearl necklace being jizz you shoot all over someone’s back.

“What Mermaid name do you want?” Stormy’s voice took on a genuinely supportive and sweet tone as she approached Denise. My little sister quivered in place because she felt intimidated by just how nice our aunt was – as if she expected her to snap her head off.

“Can I also be Pearl?” Denise asked with bright eyes.

“Pearl one and pearl two?” Stormy found it amusing. She looked up at the deck house for permission but turned back with out expecting any from her husband, and asked why Denise wanted that.

“So, I could be like my mom.”

“That’s VERY sweet, Denise. You are a sweet girl. You can’t have Pearl. That name is already taken. There is only one Pearl on this tub, and it’s your mom. Maybe we should call you Puffy?” my aunt reached out and tapped Denise’s small but puffy nipples without asking.

Denise grinned and blushed hard.

“How often do you play with yourself, Denise?”

“Never,” Denise insisted.

“You aren’t going to get very far by lying to me. Do you have sex with guys?”

Denise shook her head no, and when she could tell from the stares she received from our mom, and her older sister she admitted that she did a few times.

“Kevin Gerber, Lance Erikson, Andy Erikson, Thad Spinks, George Ramirez,” my big sister started listing off guys that Denise had been with.

“Okay, yes, I do,” Denise admitted.

“Do you take it up the ass?” Stormy asked bluntly.

My little sister grew increasingly embarrassed and made a disgusted face and shook her head no.

“It’s just another hole to put a cock. There is nothing wrong with taking it up the ass, Denise. Guys like it, girls can learn to love it. It can keep you from popping out a baby..,”

“It’s gross and stinky!” Denise insisted.

“That’s why you have to wash your ass. You’ve never put your finger in your butt and played with it?” Stormy asked her as if she doubted that very much.

Denise started to shake her head no, but then remembered the rule about speaking up when asked a question and said no.

“Nixie, and Giggles, turn around and face away, you MAY play with your ass, one finger.”

Nixie already had one finger in her mouth, sucking on it, and asked if she could use ANY finger.

“Yep, any finger except for your thumb,” Stormy sucked her own finger, turned around, pulled her ass cheek open, and slipped her finger up her ass right in front of us.

I watched as all three of them masturbated their assholes with a finger right out in the open. They looked like they enjoyed it even though Nixie was clearly embarrassed, and Giggles was laughing about it.

“Girls are issued a certain number of toys, and as we mature, we learn how to pleasure our twats, and when that’s not enough, we learn to love pleasuring our other holes. Do you like sucking dick?”

“Not really,” Denise looked disgusted, but she couldn’t look away from the spectacle, none of us could.

“Do you spit or swallow?”

“Huh?” Denise was confused.

“Do you spit out the cum, or swallow it?” Stormy asked as she rotated her finger in and out of her asshole.

“Guys usually don’t do that in my mouth,” Denise replied, extremely embarrassed.

“Enough with the good girl act,” Stormy withdrew her finger, and told her daughters to abruptly stop by shouting “Hippity-hop, mob stop!”

Giggles found that hilarious even though she would have continued to play with her butt if permitted. I was shocked even further when the three of them sucked their fingers clean. I didn’t see any brown but it still surprised me.

“My daughters learned to suck dick a few years ago, really well on one of these cruises. We had nothing but time, and we were stuck in a huge rainstorm for several days, so I taught them to suppress their gag reflexes. I created two cock monsters. They love giving head! It can be really rewarding to have control over a man’s pleasure and know he is so into what you are doing. I told them one thing – if they are going to do something, they need to do it ALL the way – no spitting, only swallowing. Don’t waste it, and don’t be modest about giving head. It’s what girls mouths were made to do – harvest and milk dicks.”

My little sister wanted to argue and refute that. She had been brought up to believe she had to be a good girl. Here was an authority figure telling her she could and should embrace being a slut.

“Swallowing, taking it up the ass, lots of things you can do to keep a man happy and still not make a baby that you are clearly not ready for. I don’t believe you when you act like a prissy little virgin who needs all this modesty. On the ship, you are a mermaid, and mermaids twats are off limits without permission. When you finally get to play with it, it will be a treat. Your mouth and your ass are still off limits without permission, but you will be putting them to use.”

Denise appeared mortified but she didn’t argue. She had the rules explained to her in much more detail than I had, and said she knew that.

“I know another horny slut when I see one, Denise. Sluts like you get pregnant easy because you fall for sweet talk and promises. You aren’t any different than my daughters in that sense. Now that you are a Mermaid – you don’t need any modesty. You were born with a mouth, butt and twat. You will learn to use them. Your butt and your mouth are toys just like your pussy, and when you learn to give pleasure with them, you’ll learn to receive pleasure with them. Do you understand?”

Denise’s eyes grew very wide, and she shook her head yes, before correcting herself and saying yes. I could tell that my little sister needed to hear she had permission to be slutty.

“Now, what Mermaid name do you want?”

“Can I tell you tomorrow?” Denise asked with an excited, nervous look.

“Yes, you can tell me tomorrow and every day after that because it will be your name, but you will decide right now, or I’ll pick for you. I think it will be a coin toss between puffy and blush. You blush an awful lot.”

“Cherry!” she decided loudly with an excited expression on her face.

Helen and Tom laughed, and so did Shane, Nixie, and Giggles. It wasn’t the same sarcastic, controlled laugh that they made when my older sister chose Jinx. This was more of an honest, silly laugh.

“In our world, Cherry means inexperienced, newbie,” Stormy offered an explanation.

“Even better! I like it, because cherries are yummy, red-faced, they are round and puffy, and they taste good,” Denise said.

Stormy looked over her shoulder at the deck house but didn’t wait for a reaction from her husband before saying that would be fine. “It’s a good name, Cherry. It suits you, and I dig why you chose it. Welcome aboard.”

[EddieDavidson]

“Why doesn’t Nixie have to choose a mermaid name?” Jinx asked with a pout when Stormy wrapped up her initial orientation.

I noticed a smirk run across both of their faces.

“My real name is Nikkie or Nicole,” Nixie explained, “but I go by Nixie all the time, even at school. I thought you knew that. We’ve hung out for years, and I told you I was a mermaid when I visited, Jinx.”

“I always thought you were just pretending to be a mermaid. I didn’t know it actually meant something, “My sister became a little defensive. “This is why you clean my room when you visit?”

“I squared away your quarters because you have way too much room, and I can’t stand an untidy berth. I get satisfaction from cooking and cleaning. You act like it’s some sacrifice or I am dumb for doing it for you,” Nixie said.

“My room is just a normal-sized room, and I appreciated it when you cleaned up for me, but it made me feel a little guilty,” My sister admitted. Then she asked, “Isn’t the point of picking a new name to leave your old baggage at the docks and start fresh and be someone else?” My sister made a valid point.

Nixie seemed perplexed and looked at her mother for a response.

“Naughty Nikki George is back at the docks somewhere, and she pops out her dirty little head now and then. It’s always going to be a facet of who my daughter is, just like Gunny Helen George is another facet of me. Nikki is a very horny, dirty little perverted girl, and Nixie keeps Nikki’s naughty impulses in check by focusing on her mermaid duties, like cooking and cleaning - so we allow her to remain a mermaid even at home.”

“My parents also keep me on permanent code red,” Nixie sounded thrilled or proud that she was under the code that my aunt said was basically constant hazing. I hadn’t seen any evidence of that so far.

“Don’t play the victim of mean old mommy, the gung-ho disciplinarian. I believe in equality – all girls treated equally,” Stormy quickly called Nixie out. She didn’t raise her voice, but my aunt grew very animated. “You voluntarily agreed to permanent EPD because you were intentionally breaking rules and becoming insubordinate to earn extra punitive disciplinary duty.”

Tom joked that the word Navy stood for “Never again volunteer yourself”, but his wife didn’t acknowledge or even look in his direction. She seethed at Nixie.

“I know, Stormy.” I was explaining to Seaman Jinx that I am under permanent code red. I should have been clearer that I asked for that because I like EPD.”

The way that Nixie addressed her mother was with deference, but when she called her mother “Stormy,” it sounded like they were on equal footing.

“You are not supposed to enjoy EPD. That’s the point, Squid,” Shane smacked his sister playfully on the left butt cheek and let it jiggle.

“Then turn it up and give me a proper stinger,” Nixie bent forward, stuck her ass out, and encouraged her brother to pop her hard on her ass. Shane obliged his little sister with a very hard swat of his hand, but Nixie smiled like she enjoyed it.

I was confused, and Jinx looked mortified.

“Nixie is a special case, and that’s why this year we promoted her and her sister to Senior seamen so that you would not see yourself on equal footing with them. It created some panic last year when Cathy and her two daughters joined us. I planned to have this conversation below deck, but the short version is that Nixie enjoys normal EPD duties, so we have to pile them on and make them a little more intense as a deterrent.”

“I thought you said girls are girls, and all girls are treated the same,” Jinx seemed to be looking for an argument, as she called our Aunt out for the inconsistency in her logic.

“Yes, but each of us has different roles. I am the head seaman, and my daughters are senior seamen. They are more experienced mermaids, and they wouldn’t be deterred by some of the punishments that you may find embarrassing or painful. Do you agree that if you never watch television or use a cell phone, getting put on television or cell phone restriction wouldn’t deter bad behavior?”

“Yes,” Jinx nodded.

“They might punish someone in high school differently than they would the same student in grade school for the same offense. The punishment has to not only fit the crime, but also have an impact, and Nixie likes the attention and gets a runner’s high from some of the EPD you will find demeaning or degrading.”

“Degrading?” Jinx asked with a snarl.

My aunt ignored my older sister’s comment and continued to explain Nixie’s motivation while Jinx stood akimbo, leaning on one hip with her arms folded and glared at our mother, blaming her for taking us on this cruise.

“Years ago, Nixie loved to stick her finger in her butt anywhere, anytime, and she had an obsessive oral fixation – anything that fit went in her ass, and mouth. She sucked on pens, fingers, dicks whenever anyone would let her. She and her sister share a berth, and it wasn’t long before Giggles was playing the same perverted little finger games.”

Nixie began to blush furiously and looked a little crestfallen. I could tell she was deeply ashamed.

“I love sex, and I was never a prude. I had no problem with Shane’s sexual curiosity and normal levels of sexual desire, and if that’s all this was – I’d chalk it up to being excited about her new toy. Nixie’s fingers wouldn’t stay out of her cunt, she started playing doctor with nearby boys, getting them to tie her up for games of cops and robbers. We lived in a nudist resort, so there weren’t a lot of friends her age, so she found willing men of any age to play with.”

Nixie looked like she wanted to dive off the boat and swim away, but her little sister kept giggling.

“What are you laughing about? You were Nixie’s dirty little shadow, ready to kiss, lick, or sit on anything vaguely shaped like a dick. I caught the two of them sitting in ant mounds. They weren’t red fire ants, thankfully. My daughters told me they just wanted to feel the entire ant colony all over their pussies. They removed their bike seats and put rubber stoppers on the bike’s metal seat post, so they could hump themselves around the neighborhood.”

Nixie and her sister looked nostalgic and almost proud of themselves. I noticed Nixie’s fingers going for her pussy lips like she was going to play with herself.

“If you think you are going to play with that smelly, wet hole on the top deck, your brother can rig the keel-haul ropes early, and you can ride behind the ship. I told them about your horny little escapades to explain why extreme behavior required an extreme response.”

Stormy gave an ultimatum to her daughter, and Nixie apologetically put her hands behind her back and stood up straight – her silence was obvious compliance with it.

“They asked, and I have no problem telling them you are a naughty girl with dirty little thoughts. I don’t want them thinking we code red you for funsies like Cinderella’s mother.”

I wanted to point out that it was actually Cinderella’s stepmother, but I felt like this wasn’t the time for trivia. I knew a ton of pointless and useless trivia.

“When Tom bought this old Southern Cross at auction, it looked nothing like it does today. It took a lot of elbow grease and titty sweat to get the Salty Tuna seaworthy. Giggles was too young to be much help, and at the time, Nicole was just Nikki the cock crazy slut. It was more work to keep her focused on helping with the refurb and refit because she was happier sitting on a screwdriver or trying to get the attention of any guy who wanted to look at her little underdeveloped titties.”

Nixie didn’t deny it; she was completely mortified.

“Imagine what she would be like with a body like that? Pregnant. She would fuck anything that moves, and being young, dumb, and full of cum with no plan is what would have happened to me if I hadn’t found discipline in the service. It occurred to me that Nicole was an over-sexed handful of hormones and sexual desires that was learning just how powerful that snatch was at attracting men.”

Her mother pointed to her daughter’s bald pussy, I looked right at it and noticed, despite how embarrassed Nixie was, her pussy was dripping wet and glistening with white viscous fluid.

“She’s always wet, but right now her pussy is running faster and wetter than an illegal’s back trying to cross the Rio Grande on free taco day. “

Everyone except for Nixie laughed at that, although not all of us found it hysterical; my aunt’s delivery was perfect.

Nixie looked apologetic.

“You said you volunteered for code red. If hearing the truth as I tell it is making you blush like Miss Piggy getting caught by Kermit fucking herself with two Virginia hams.”

“It’s all true, Stormy. It just stings a bit in front of my cousins and aunt. It’s different when you explain the rules to total strangers,” Nixie admitted.

“Good. They’ll get a full debrief by the time we go under deck. The only reason we didn’t tease you around my sister was in deference to them, not your ego and vanity,” my aunt explained to her daughter.

“Despite how it sounds, we aren’t THAT strict on the girls, but we imposed some rules on both of them all the time at home, and Nixie has a few more than her sister. We are still deciding if they are warranted for Giggles.”

I noticed Giggle’s amused smile start to fade.

“Don’t act shocked. We’ve discussed this, Giggles,” Stormy told her daughter before continuing to explain to us, “Discipline and a little tough love never hurt anyone. It’s worked for the military, and look at the Air Force. They are a bunch of wussies that can’t tie their own shoes without a manual because they think it’s a kindness to spoil their troops with luxuries.”

“Amen,” Tom admitted. He continued his wife’s explanation. “I am not a big fan of rules, and I don’t like to have formal standard operating procedures, but we did what we knew. We introduced structure, and everyone knows their place in my house. We modified the rules, kept what worked, dropped what didn’t, and we are always learning. We’ll probably make some changes on this trip. We love our daughters very much; we didn’t impose discipline on them to be cruel. We did it to benefit them, and it’s worked out. They won’t get pregnant, they don’t talk back, they aren’t being sexually repressed, or taught sex is bad. Its just desires are contained and controlled. We like Nixie better this way after her adjustment.”

“Adjustment?” Jinx recoiled in horror. I noticed that Nixie didn’t seem that alarmed by the term. It did sound a little dystopian or ominous, but the George family was an open book about it with us.

“That’s the term we use,” Stormy admitted and agreed with her husband. It sounded scary. “Nixie is Nixie all the time, not just on vacation.”

“So, you basically gave her a lobotomy and replaced her personality?” Jinx let her voice get louder.

Stormy looked like she was ready to make my sister drop onto the deck and give it a lick.

“Nothing like that,” Nixie said. “It’s hard to explain. I like myself better this way, too. At home, I don’t argue or bicker or shout like you do. I have a few extra rules that Giggles doesn’t have, but for the most part, I am still me. This is just a better, more polished version of me. I am still the same Nixie that came to your birthday parties and hung out with you.”

My sister took offense to being accused of bickering, but we did it all the time, and it would have been difficult for her to deny.

“I do Mermaid stuff at home too,” Giggles admitted proudly.

“Yes, you do, and you are a good girl,” Stormy smiled approvingly at her daughter. “You’ll probably have to continue some things from the cruise when we get home. We like you both this way, and we wouldn’t have it any other way. You are still going to get calluses on your burnt butts by the time this cruise is over, though. I am not going to play favorites,” she promised.

“It’s time to set sail, Stormy. We’ve got to roll with the tides,” Tom interrupted. He started giving orders to Shane, and the two of them started to untie ropes in some places and lash down ropes in other places to prepare the craft to sail.

“Seaman roll call, when I call your name, I want to hear you say ho here. If you don’t agree with your name, this is the time to change your mind. We’ll continue the orientation through doing.”

“Nixie,”

“Ho Here!”

“Giggles”

“Ho Here!”

I wasn’t sure if it was “Ho! Hear!” or “Ho Here” as in the whore is here. Shane gave me a job to do. It wasn’t much, but I helped him move a weighted ballast around, and I missed the rest of the roll call.

Salt water dripped off the boom and ran in lines down the deck. Stormy passed out jobs like she was handing out candy on Halloween night – all to the girls, none to us.

It was mostly scrubbing, stowing, and very mundane, routine tasks that might not seem worth describing, except there was a certain wonder to it all. It felt like we were gears in a watch, and there were too many gears.

More effort seemed to be placed on communicating and avoiding mistakes than I thought there should have been. The craft moved on its own power with the wind, but the diesel engine was engaged. I assumed they needed to keep it on all the time, the way a car would, but I quickly learned that they used it more tactically with the tide to turn the ship, or give it a boost when the wind was lagging.

A combination of the diesel engine and sail was used to build momentum, and soon Stormy was in a routine of giving commands to the girls while working alongside them to stow, scrub, or perform menial tasks.

Shane and his father were the primary brains of the ship. Tom at the wheel, and Shane working the sails, rendered me and my brother largely redundant. My father talked casually with Tom while the two of them enjoyed ice-cold beer, but he didn’t help at all.

It took more than an hour before I forgot that any of us were naked, and stopped ogling the bouncing tits, shaking butts, and flapping pussy lips.

Any time I looked down and saw a hairy pussy, I knew instantly it belonged to my mother or one of my sisters, and I looked away. I kept a hierarchy in my head to assuage my guilt about peeping on the female family members' bodies and thinking dirty thoughts.

I created a hierarchy of naked bodies that I could admire discreetly. At the top was my aunt. She had shown herself off to those frat guys and made no secret of her private parts, and somehow, I felt less guilty looking at her than I did anyone else on the boat.

I didn’t HAVE to look at anyone, but I was young, full of hormones and surrounded by naked bodies. Obviously, I was going to look at them and despite the guilt of knowing they were all related – I looked at the ones that made me feel the LEAST guilty.

Stormy was gorgeous, and her body developed a sheen of sweat that reminded me of a fine oil coating her body like a Clydesdale that had just run its off in a heated race. I loved watching her butt cheeks snap together when she walked around, and the trace of purplish skin between her butt cheeks near her poop hole thrilled me.

I wondered why it was purple and felt like I really shouldn’t look too hard at where my aunt pooped from, but there was something terribly taboo about seeing it. I tried not to look at her pussy lips for long. They were long, pink, and open like a Hibiscus flower. I could see folds within folds and it reminded me of a roast beef sandwich from Arby’s.

I didn’t know what a clit was, but I assumed a folded flap that hung out of the side was my aunt’s clit.

Nixie, with her auburn hair, cute upturned nose, and freckles was next on my list to ogle. I loved how her tits reminded me of two Pokémon balls.

If I had to pick an actress she looked like, I would say Alyson Hannigan. She was the actress from American Pie who admitted, “I get nasty when I am horny”.

After her mother’s admission of what Nixie was really like when she wasn’t a mermaid – I kept picturing her saying that in the same dumb but endearing bimbo like way after sticking a flute in her pussy.

They bounced like buoyant balloons. I don’t know why, but I could picture her saying “Boop!” as she bounced up out of the water through a plastic ring and using the tits like flotation devices.

I loved getting a close look at the freckles between her tits and on her nose. It felt very taboo, like I shouldn’t be able to get that close, high definition vision of exactly where my cousin’s freckle placement was on her reddish pink skin – but she either didn’t notice I was staring or didn’t care.

As I was given no instructions and had plenty of time, I made a game of trying to find reasons to be near Nixie and get a good look at her body. I’d lean over a rail or find a reason to talk to Kevin while facing her.

I kept thinking about how blatantly my aunt had described Nixie’s sexual appetites. I wanted to say that Nixie simply had the same sex drive as a typical guy, but I was afraid maybe I was a freak or a deviant, and most guys didn’t think about tits and ass as much as I did.

Even though Giggles was younger than me, and I had been taught that you shouldn’t like younger girls – she was third in my hierarchy for obvious reasons. She was a little chubby like my younger sister, only Giggles had big, fat, milk sack-shaped tits.

I began to realize Giggles reminded me of a tubby, immature version of Sydney Sweeney. She seemed naïve, but at the same time, Giggles exuded a natural sexuality that gave off a “sex is just something inevitable”.

She and her sister never seemed to mind bending over, crawling, sticking their asses out, and contorting in some way to reach something difficult to reach – which gave me a look at parts of their bodies I’d never seen in porn.

I took “mental snapshots” of them in various positions, so I could jerk off to the memory later.

I’d seen TONS of porn and it was easy to take mental snapshots of the porn that I enjoyed. I already missed not having a cell phone to watch more. However, seeing naked, sweaty, REAL bodies was something completely different and far more entertaining than porn anyway.

I am a bit ashamed by this, but fourth on my hierarchy was my older sister, Jinx. She wasn’t protesting or fuming, but she didn’t look particularly happy about her duties. I knew better than to talk to her, because I was afraid she’d snap my head off and assume I was gloating or rubbing in the fact that I didn’t have anything to do, and she did.

At that point, I still thought of Jinx as Tracy, and since I didn’t speak to anyone, I had not fully associated her with the name Jinx. I wasn’t looking at her ass, tits, and pussy the way I was the others higher in the hierarchy.

Instead, I focused on her pretty face and upturned nose. I had never noticed this before, or found a woman’s nose sexy, but I found something very erotic about my sister’s nose holes. She seemed so vulnerable despite being a little angry. She had this look on her face like “Fuck you for making me do this,” and yet she complied with her instructions like Jinx had lost a bet and was ready to flip the bird at my aunt and mother if she was pushed too far.

She had no discernible nose hair, and I first noticed that I could see all the way up into the dark recesses of the twin black holes when she was hanging from a pole that was resting between her breasts.

My older sister had the lemony smirk of Emma Stone and the same light freckles that our cousin Nixie had, making them look a bit like sisters. Jinx had a weaker chin and a rabbity quality to her face, like our younger sister.

Jinx had recently learned to tease out her red hair like girls used to wear it in the 1980s. I always assumed Jinx was a natural redhead, but her black, curly pubes told a different story. I felt like I’d turn to actual stone if I looked down at her pussy and tried to detect her pussy lips.

It was easier to think of my little sister as Cherry. She seemed to relish the name, but not as much as the George family relished calling her that.

“Cherry, what is your major malfunction?” or “Cherry, you missed a spot. This is Fubar.”

Tom, Stormy, even Jinx and Giggles put my little sister to work and kept her busy.

I didn’t sexualize Cherry at all or see her as a sexual being, so it’s hard to put her on this list, but I do because, despite it all – I was fascinated by her small, puffy tits. She was chubby, with long brown hair and blue eyes, puffy, pouty lips, and a big butt. She had pubes, so she was developed, but her tits weren’t like all the other girls.

There was more nipple than there was titty meat, and they weren’t round like Nixie, or teardrop shaped like her mother. They were pyramid shaped, like two small cones.

Cherry had a wisp of pubic hair, not a big patch, and the hair was red and curly like my mother’s pubes.

My mom is at the bottom of the list because I simply ignored her whenever I could and didn’t stare. However, now and then, I saw her bending over, scrubbing and her big tits were bouncing in time with her ass shaking and it was easy to think of her as “Pearl,” the big-tittied older bimbo and not my mom.

In the early hours, I didn’t intentionally look at my mom, but I stared for almost 15 minutes at Pearl’s warm, inviting butthole while she knelt to scrub a part of the deck under the direct supervision of her sister.

I wasn’t sure if Stormy was older or younger, but I thought it might be more humiliating to have to obey your younger sister. It was hard to read my mother’s reaction to all this. She seemed mortified, but entirely compliant and willing to be instructed.

I still didn’t comprehend why she had agreed to these conditions and rules. I definitely got the impression that she wasn’t shocked or surprised about the expectations, and they had gone over them before she agreed to them.

I hadn’t been informed about any of that, though. I was curious why she’d put up a sign for hard work, but I’ve seen my mom clean at home, vacuuming a floor that looks clean for hours, and I knew she was no stranger to hard work. It just seemed different because they were naked.

[WingDing]

A fun little story. The militaryese is a bit thick.
When I was in the Navy I worked on the torpedo countermeasures system, it was called NIXIE. Funny coincidence. Some of the displays also used nixie tubes to show numbers.

[Sanford7727]

I was hoping for a continuation of the girls dancing nude in the coed ballet story. It was just about to get good.

[EddieDavidson]

A fun little story. The militaryese is a bit thick.
When I was in the Navy I worked on the torpedo countermeasures system, it was called NIXIE. Funny coincidence. Some of the displays also used nixie tubes to show numbers.

It was entirely intentional. Waverly (AKA Giggles)

This past week I met an ex-marine and her husband. She is a submissive, and they are swingers. I was inspired heavily by their use of military jargon, and I go back to some Uncles who used to use cryptic phrases with their family, like Bee-Zee (Bravo Zulu) and I thought they were saying "BUSY" .

If you do it every day for 30 years, you are bound to pick up the jargon. I was also inspired by how in the TV show Reacher, they nail the way ex-military have body language/patterns of speech that are super easy to detect but incredibly difficult for me to write. It's not just posture and bearing it's how they talk. The cadence of speech is clear and they tend to be very detail oriented. That doesn't really do it justice though. The types of details.

Just how they back in their car, no matter how long it takes to back it in. It's like they HAVE to do it. I am not sure why, but they drive like a valet would, very aggressively backing the car up like it has to be done quickly, and they can't just fucking park even if we are stopping for a few minutes.

So, one reason i was inspired to bang this story out, was to capture those observations in the characters, but also their attitude about nudity and sex. "as a marine" she must have said three times in one conversation. She continues to process the world in terms of active duty versus now, and a lot of it had to do with her desire to push herself/experience pain and discipline. Her standards are high, because she has already gone through hell.

She also talked ferquently about bunks bunnies, and how she'd pretty much fuck anyone that asked "Unless they were chair force", (her word for air force, which she holds in low esteem) and went on to describe how she'd prefer guys not ask. "Just throw me down or bend me over and stick it up my ass.."

That's when Nixie and Stormy started to emerge in my mind, two aspects of the same woman. Dirty blonde, small tits, nice body, pretty face, but the version I wrote here was a lttle less skanky and masculine. There was something about her that was so masculine, but it was hard to explain. Her clit was definitely huge. It wasn't shaped like a penis, but more like a long knob you could pull and stretch, while her labia was practically non existent, as if they had rubbed off.

It was really the dichotomy of personalities that thrilled me. I didn't write "her" into the story but I used the different aspects of her for inspiration. They did speak in Military-ease and they told me they got more so when they were around other military people. It occured to me when they were sailing a boat, they'd likely see it as "Charlie Mike" and continuing the mission, so I decided to embrace that.

It's authentic as far as I am concerned, and because I wrote it through George's eyes, I am able to use his lack of military knowledge to let the reader know what is meant when they stop to explain it, and also paint this picture of someone vanilla who is understanding their world now that he is in it.

That's a hallmark of my stories/consistent theme. I like to paint a picture of people who simply believe (for instance) girls are better off with their pussies locked up until they are married, or that they don't need modesty, or that sex is not a taboo/something to be repressed, and do so by introducing a vanilla character that learns about them along with the reader.

As to the ballet story, I have about a dozen stories on my hard drive that I want to finish up and continue, that's definitely one!! I just have to write when I am inspired and so I did this one for now.

[EddieDavidson]

I started absent mindedly at my cousin Nixie, while she was on all fours scrubbing the deck with a small brush. I assumed she got the nickname Nixie as an extension of Nikki or Nicole, and that tracked completely.

She was always so contrite, and well behaved when she visited my house. I couldn’t imagine her being so brazen now, with absolutely no modesty. Her pussy and asshole were wide open and it seemed like she was driving herself backward with an expression on her face that dared anyone to come behind her and just stick it in and ride her.

My cousin’s tits were moving clockwise with her body, and she didn’t seem to notice that I was right behind her and able to see her wet pussy and the brown rim of her puckered asshole.

I could have sworn she blew me a kiss with it, but assumed she might have actually farted. I felt like a wildlife photographer hidden in the jungles watching women doing their most private activities that men aren’t supposed to witness.

“Tactical pause,” my aunt called out once we were about an hour into our trip. Her daughters instantly stopped working and turned to face her. “Cop a squat, seamen!”

It sounded exactly like she said semen. It was all I could not to snicker when my older sister looked offended by just being addressed by the monicker.

Stormy pointed to the deck and instructed, “Squat low, pussies don’t touch the deck, or you lick the deck.”

Nixie and her sister knew the drill well, but they didn’t execute it crisply. It was obviously intended to be a casual break.

I watched as Nixie sank low until the back of her thighs pressed against her calves and faced her mother with her legs apart – exposing her wet pussy lips.

She kept her hands at her side and kept a sharp focus in her eyes. The muscles in her arms and legs tensed to keep balance, and her lips pressed together as if holding back the effort it took to stay steady in the deep squat.

“Copping a squat is rest time, don’t make it be Monkey Fuckers, because we can and will be doing Monkey Fuckers above deck and below,” my Aunt warned.

It was obvious that my mother and sisters had no idea what that was, although they were complying.

“Seaman Nixie, demonstrate Monkey Fuckers until I tell you to stop.”

My cousin didn’t hesitate or ask why. She didn’t look offended or appear angry at the injustice of being singled out. Instead, she grabbed her ankles tightly and began to rapidly bounce up and down – exposing her pussy and asshole as she did.

I had no reason to laugh at my cousin, but it was just so silly and humiliating that I giggled, and so did most of the men but even Giggles remained quiet as her sister continued to hump the air – driving herself down.

“Monkey fuckers are a great plyometric exercise. They got my three-mile time down so I could compete in the all-female running team on my base and yes – it looks dumb as fuck, and it’s humiliating to do them naked. Mermaids don’t need modesty and neither do seamen. Now squat low and deep, pussies off the deck – you can drip, but if pussy lips touch my deck, you’ll lick your snail trails off of them.”

Stormy guided the rest of the girls into the position and let Nixie continue the exhausting bounce without stopping. “Code red, huh? Does performing monkey fuckers while the rest of the seamen get to cop a squat and enjoy the warm salty air breeze against their crusty buttholes feel like code red, Nix?”

“No, Stormy,” Nixie replied to her mother as if she was definitely in charge, and that she wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of appearing distressed.

“Good, when the rest of the mermaids cop a squat, I want you to perform monkey fuckers for the amusement of the mates. Don’t stop, hop slowly and turn around and face them, smile pretty and keep those chubby little legs wide. You like showing off, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Nixie blushed, and began to hop up as she rose up, incrementally shifting her feet an inch to pivot in a circle and face us.

“You will learn six positions on deck. Cop a squat is the easiest, because all you have to do is squat low, legs apart, relax and keep your pussy from touching the deck. It’s so simple even a dumb bimbo can do it,” Stormy said as she admired her daughter’s tenacity and willingness to humiliate herself.

“I am not going to overload your mermaid brains with too many new concepts at once. Copping a squat is designed to let you relax, while at the same time keeping your attention focused on me or my husband so you can listen to what we have to say and not be distracted watching dolphins or staring off into space. All eyes should be on me, or you can do some monkey fucking,” she warned.

All the girls watched my aunt, but I was focused on watching Nixie hop up and down like a silly fool – she reminded me of a jester inviting ridicule – and she smiled like she was nuts.

“You may have seen Giggles demonstrate the FLR – push-up position to kiss the deck earlier. You will all be intimately familiar with that position – it’s used for punishment and discipline. You will also learn bear, crab, and duck walks, as well as fire hydrant drills, which can be used simply because I want to volunteer you for the amusement of the crew, just as I have with Jinx. You will also have to kiss the deck – you’ll need to hold those as long as required by the mates or me.”

I almost missed it when my aunt mentioned that the mates could put the girls into these positions and assumed that she meant Tom only.

“However, on deck, cop a squat, pussy on parade, short arm inspection, and fall out, and as you were. That’s all your pretty little heads can probably grasp, and thankfully, all you need to know. The military would call them stress positions. They teach discipline, physical control, and are intended to be practical. You will cop a squat to lower yourself, focus on who is spending time talking to you, and eventually it will be second nature.”

I noticed my sister scoffed, as if she didn’t believe it, but she kept it mostly to herself.

“We aren’t going to waste time teaching you fancy drills like present arms, attention, and we know that mermaids are too dumb to know their left from their right – so left face and right face are a waste of time.”

“Why do we have to learn any positions at all?” Cherry asked, raising her hand slightly. I accidentally glanced between her legs and noticed my sister’s fat, wide pussy lips. She saw that I saw them as well, and blushed, and recoiled a little.

“Don’t close those legs just because a mate wants to look at what you have, Cherry. The guys know what girls have – it’s simple, two piss flaps and a cum hole, a poop hole, two lumpy milk makers, and a dick swallower. You don’t have anything between your legs that is unique or worth hiding.”

My little sister was shocked but abruptly widened her legs again and blushed.

“Copping a squat lower than the person speaking sets up the tone for the lecture or instruction that follows. Legs open, pussy flaps exposed to the salt air, is a stress position to some – you’ll learn to do it by routine and not feel the need for modesty. You will limber up, air that cock grabber out, and give the speaker a laugh when they look down at your swollen pink cum catchers winking back at them.”

My aunt kicked my little sister’s legs apart and made a disgusted face, “I am not sure anyone wants to look at that hairy beaver, even for a good laugh but learn the position properly, Cherry. We’ll get you squared away with a proper cunt-trim when you go below decks.”


“Yes, Ma’am,” Cherry blushed, clearly embarrassed as her pussy was singled out.


“I am not a Ma’am, I am a Cow and a seaman like you, Stormy is fine. We aren’t friends on the boat. We are shipmates – fellow mermaids. We’ve got time to be friends after the voyage is over. Got it?”

“Yes, Stormy.”

My aunt was satisfied; She walked around and adjusted the other girls to expose their pussies, squat lower and deeper, lift their chins, and spread their knees.

“Copping a squat puts you in the right mind set to receive information and stop interrupting. You can ask questions when told to ask questions. No more blurting out your questions – unless there is an emergency, I will tell you when you want to know more information and give you a chance to ask.”

I thought it was kind of funny how my aunt said she’d tell the girls when they wanted to know more.

“The second reason to learn these positions is quite obviously corrective discipline. Observe, Nixie, bouncing like a dumb bimbo, flapping her pussy lips like a cunt on a yo-yo,” my aunt was very comfortable with the vulgar language she used, and I got the impression she had heard all of this from her own drill instructors. It flowed naturally. “It’s intended to encourage the kind of behavior that earns you the right to simply cop a squat like the other gashes – but it’s something she has to earn.”

Nixie blushed, she looked up at me and grinned like a foolish twit, but I could tell she was humiliated despite the silly and frivolous look on her face.

“The third reason is discipline and fairness,” my aunt counted off a third reason. My older sister scoffed, and I think Jinx thought that Stormy hadn’t noticed. “Something funny, Jinx?”

“How is it fair that we have to squat, Nixie has to bounce up and down on an invisible balloon even though she didn’t do anything wrong, and the guys get to stand there and grin?” My sister looked right at me, and I looked away.

“If Nixie didn’t do something to earn Monkey Fuckers today, that can count for a future fuck up or one she got away with that I didn’t witness. She’s no stranger to these exercises and won’t be any worse for the wear – you won’t either, Jinx. If you jump overboard, you can probably make the shore in less than thirty minutes. The rip currents aren’t that bad. Your mother and sister seem to be handling it just fine. Right Pearl?”

“Yes, Stormy, it’s okay,” my mother agreed, face bright red, legs wide. I glanced and saw her pussy lips peeking out of her dark, curly, untrimmed ’80s bush.

“How about you, Cherry? Feeling like squatting is too hard? Is your aunt Stormy a big old meanie butt?”

“No, it’s okay,” Cherry offered, glancing at her mother for approval, and my mom nodded back.

“I am going to teach you how to perform a nut to butt lube drill. You will approach the nearest mate and offer to apply lotion to them. There are no favorites. Tom, Dennis, Shane, Kevin, or George- all of them get lubed before your hot little asses get a single squirt of pig grease. There are five of them and six of us, meaning that as the Cow, I am going to walk around- you WILL pair up. If they tell you no, that’s fine. Go to someone else. If a mate is already getting lubed up, you will not interrupt. This is not musical twats – you will find someone and perform the task at hand. Let me demonstrate, Kevin – you never finished my upper body earlier. Do you mind if I show the Seamen how to lube you up?”

My little brother was eager to volunteer.

“This is 65 SPF Sunscreen,” my aunt was pleased with his response. She held up a big, cheap, white bottle of the stuff. “We call this pig grease. You are to NEVER ask me for a break or remind me. I am always thinking about your well-being, and general welfare. You are NEVER to ask any of the mates for a break either.”

Stormy squirted a big gob of it into her hands and began to warm it up by rubbing them together. “Just like a cock, squirt it until it shoots out the white creamy goodness, and then warm it up for the mates. They don’t have alligator hides like you – you have to put some care into this, Mermaids. It looks like semen, but it’s not for seamen! Don’t let me catch you trying to eat this goo!”

She seemed serious as she started on my brother’s shoulders and applied the lotion. “Firmly, everywhere – no crease, no crack, no wrinkle, no part of your mate goes unlubed. Get the neck, shoulders and work down the back this way. Take your time and do it right.”

“Slow is smooth, and smooth is fast.” Tom admired his wife’s hands stroking my little brother. There was a sexual connotation even though nobody said it until he added, “Stroke that back like it’s the biggest cock you’ve ever seen.”

“We aren’t supposed to teach them to be horn dogs,” my aunt smirked, she was already halfway down Kevin’s back.

“It’s pretty obvious you are thinking, Kevin is thinking it, his pecker is hard, and he’s smiling – have fun with it,” Tom smiled.

“Don’t have too much fun,” my aunt warned the girls, and said that her devil horns were probably materializing on her head. “No one expects you to be puritans, this is skin to skin – when you get to the butthole, pig grease goes around the rim – not INSIDE the butthole. Grease goes around the shaft and the balls – yes, it burns as well. Don’t jerk them off. Two or three pumps, that’s it. Okay, any questions?” Stormy looked right at my little sister to see if she had any.

“You said we are using pig grease on the mates, but does that imply they are pigs?” Cherry asked.

“Good question, no you are the piggies – but we aren’t going to buy a special SPF just for mates and seamen. Get over here and finish Kevin. I’ve got him started.”

She told the others including Nixie to get up and find someone to lube. "There are two ways to do something, seamen. There is the right way, and there is doing it again. Let’s not make this a horny sweaty exercise in playing with dicks and grab ass to get your rocks off. Get it done, and get it done right.”

She passed out the lube, and squirted some in each girls hands for them, while expecting them to rub it together and warm it up.

“Don’t play favorites, let’s go – this should take you less than three minutes butt to nuts, to get them lubed. You’ll get lotion after this, and your free-bee time is whatever is left over before we turn and burn and get back under sail.”

“What is free-bee, time?” my little sister asked politely. She was nervous that she was asking questions out of turn.

“Free-bee, just like it sounds, you can take a little break, stretch your legs, hang your ass over the side, and take a piss, talk freely to each other or the mates. You can’t go under deck for any reason – but you can also grab a water, and make sure the mates have been offered one,” my aunt explained it like it should be common sense.

“Wait, you aren’t serious?” Jinx stood flat-footed, jaw open as she considered which of the mates she was going to offer to lube up.

“It seems silly to give mermaids some frivolous time to fuck around upper decks, but this isn’t the corps. We aren’t going to work your ass to the bone without some rest. You will work harder if you are refreshed and catch up for any time lost. You can have five to ten mikes of free-bee time every few hours,” my aunt smiled at Jinx. I got the distinct impression she was being sarcastic, but I honestly couldn’t tell.

“I wasn’t asking about the break. Why do you have to say mikes instead of minutes? Why can’t we go under deck to go pee? You aren’t seriously expecting us to pee over the side of the boat?”

I almost didn’t notice Nixie when she approached me. She was standing right in front of me, trying to get my attention and smiling. “Mind if I lube you up, George?”

I was flattered and nodded but listened intently to the confrontation brewing between my older sister and my aunt. My mother had made a beeline for Dennis and was lubing him up. Giggles was lubing up her father right next to them. Kevin was getting lubed up by our older sister.

Shane worked on something with rope, while he waited – unconcerned.

“That’s a lot of questions, Jinx. You obviously know that mike is minutes. You are smart for a mermaid. We are used to saying mike in place of minutes. It’s just military shorthand. We work in clicks instead of kilometers too. You’ll get used to it,” my aunt addressed the first question and Jinx calmed herself – obviously intimidated a little by my aunt.

My cousins touch on my shoulders made my dick jump, it felt so good. I couldn’t believe how firm and soft her touch was. “Ooh, sorry, I didn’t mean to make you jump. Are my hands cold?” she asked politely.

“No, it’s great!” I smiled, and instantly felt dumb for using the term ‘great’ to describe her hands.

“Secondly, if you girls could go under deck while we cruise, and even if you aren’t playing with yourself, you’ll find some reason to dink around down there. You are up here – until pinky time. Pinky time is sunset, by the way, in case you are going to bitch about that too?”

“What if we have to go pooh, Aunt…Stormy,” my sister whined.

“Then you hang it over the side and take a dump- piss or shit, what’s the difference? Have you never used a public restroom? Everybody knows what shit looks like and smells like,” my aunt seemed confused by the question.

“Your sister sure is a handful. She is so high strung,” Nixie whispered in my ear. Her breath gave me goose bumps. “Does this still feel good? She asked as she stroked the side of my ribcage and shoulders.

“Yeah, um, good,” my dick involuntarily squirted a little pre-cum, There was nothing I could do about it.

“I went from great to good. I must be doing something wrong,” Nixie seemed so confident, so at home, rubbing my back. She was already to the square of my back.

“What about toilet paper? Are we supposed to just air dry and get crusty butts?” my big sister moaned, another question. She and my aunt couldn’t hear the exchange between Nixie and I, but everyone could hear theirs.

“Don’t be disgusting, you aren’t a rutting beast, Jinx. We wash the mud from our asses around here. We have a saltwater hose; you can ask one of the many mates on deck after you finish dropping off your turds to wash you down. I am not going to be head ass washer. Now get over there and work on Shane before he burns.”

Jinx slowly sauntered over to Shane, and the two of them talked for a moment, while my older sister put lotion on her fingers.

“Did you ever imagine we’d be sailing together like this?” my cousin said as she squatted down eye level to my ass and began to rub lotion into my butt cheeks.

“I can honestly say that I did not imagine this,” I said.

“You knew we were nudists though, right?” she continued to rub my ass, periodically opening up my butt cheeks. I was worried I may not have wiped recently. It seemed like she was taking way too much time with my butt than I was comfortable with. I liked looking at girls butt – I couldn’t’ stand having someone look at mine.

“Yeah, but we’ve never visited you, and you were never naked when you visited us,” I reminded her. This was an entirely unexpected and provocative side of my cousin, that I could never have fully imagined because I still didn’t understand her motivations and desires.

I didn’t know any girls who WANTED sex, and yet she was so obviously open about how horny she was to the point of calling her desires perverted.
She seemed to embrace discipline and seemed eager to be humiliated, and yet she also seemed to see it simply as necessary or expected for girls.

The entire George family appeared to be content with the idea that girls should be disciplined and teased, simply for being girls. The weirdest part of that was my mother had bought in, and my sisters hadn’t rebelled against it.

I knew there were people who believed girls didn’t need modesty, and I’ve seen younger girls at the beach strip off completely, or wear nothing but panties in their yards – but I’d never seen older girls and women without modesty.

I’d also never been to a nudist resort though, so I didn’t fully understand the nudist lifestyle. I still operated under the premise that women’s duty was to hide away their bodies from guys like me. I believed their private parts were a secret they weren’t supposed to share with us until marriage or until we paid the subscription to the porn site on the Internet.

I knew some guys thought nothing of stripping off in the showers in the gym, and there were guys like me who were afraid to fart really loud in the public restrooms because people might think my body made rude noises, much less strip nude and shower in a gym in front of other men.

I was still getting my head around the fact that to my cousins this was all perfectly natural and expected, because they had been raised this way.

Now, I was experiencing an entirely different attitude about gender, sex, and even family that I was still grappling with after several hours of getting underway.

“In the vanilla world, I have to wear clothes,” Nixie said, as if she really would prefer to be nude all the time. “My parents don’t believe in pushing our beliefs on people who didn’t sign up for it, but you guys signed up for the cruise. So, now you are my mate, and I am your seaman.”

“Seawoman, technically, right?” I clarified.

“The navy doesn’t have a rank as low as sea woman, so female e-nothings are seamen. I think of it more like semen, because you are what you eat,” she giggled playfully.

I wasn’t sure how to react to that.

“Don’t freak out, I need to rim your asshole with my finger, is this okay?” she said as she delicately traced her fingers around my butthole.

“Oh my god,” I whispered.

“Oh my god, good? Or Oh my god, please stop playing with my shit-hole, you nasty bitch?”

“Um, the first one,” I swallowed. She kept spinning her finger around.

“Nixie, you aren’t playing with George’s asshole are you?” her mother asked as she surveyed the five pairs of people getting lotioned.

“Rectum, nearly killed him?” Nixie took her finger from my butthole, sucked a finger, and kept going lower. I wasn’t sure if she sucked THE finger that touched my butthole -or if she just did that to fuck with me.

“ Ricky Tick, seamen – time is ticking, you have a job to do. This isn’t your honeymoon. Coat the mates in pig grease, butts to nuts, and then you’ll ask them politely to apply it to you -if they don’t want too then you’ll pair up with another seamen and play Indigo Girls with one another.”

“I don’t understand half of what your mom says,” I said.

“It’s like another language isn’t it?” Nixie smiled. “It will eventually start to become clear. Ricky Tick, chop chop, Di di mau, it’s just different ways to say hurry up. Indigo Girls is one of many ways to tease us for touching other girls and lezzing out. You can tell her to knock it off and speak regular English if you want and she’d have to do it.”

“I am not telling your mom to do ANYTHING, she scares me,” I smiled back as I stood there and let her apply lotion into the back of my knees with her hands. She was still eye level with my ass.

“Technically, Stormy isn’t my mom right now,” Nixie said as she coated my legs and marveled at how hairless I was. “She’s the cunt that birthed me, but on the boat, she’s the COW and head seamen. She is the head girl, but that’s like being head turd in a latrine full of shit balls. Any mate can talk down to her the same way she talks down to us, and she has to take it without complaint like we do.”

“Yeah, and when we get off the ship, she’d be pissed off at me if I made her do monkey fucks. That was mean by the way,” I commiserated with her.

“What happens on the boat, stays on the boat. That’s rule number one. No hard feelings, I’ve touched your asshole, I get to touch your dick in a few minutes. We’re cousins -hopefully you are okay with that?” she said as she painted lotion into my ankles and spun around to face me.

I nodded and looked down. Nixie was looking up at me as if she was going to suck my cock, on her knees, with a joyous and radiant face. She began by bowing her head and rubbing lotion on the top of my feet and between each toe.

“If it was mean to make me do monkey fucks, why were you smiling? Did you enjoy the show I put on?” she asked politely – luxuriating between my toes.

“I smiled because you smiled,” I admitted, and blushed a little. I didn’t want to seem mean or like I was laughing at her.

“Did it amuse you to watch me bouncing up and down like a dumb donna, pussy flapping and tits bouncing?” she asked me bluntly.

I looked ashamed, and blushed. I felt like Nixie was calling me out. It had turned me on to watch her humiliate herself and I didn’t know why. She was so unabashed and immodest that it seemed like she embraced her antics and I only felt guilty about it now that she was asking me questions about what I thought.

“George, the meanest thing you can do to me this summer is feel sorry for me as a mermaid. If I thought I was making you uncomfortable or angry, it’d be harder for me.”

“I am not angry,” I said without addressing my discomfort with the situation. “I am just confused, what is the point of making you do that?”

“My mom is better at explaining the point of the adjustment,” Nixie smiled at me and stroked cream on my thighs. She was getting closer to my dick, and the tip of my prick was almost in her face. She licked her lips excitedly.

“George, when we come to your house, I am well behaved and polite, but I am actually a really dirty girl. I love sex, I love filthy, dirty, sex, and I can’t stop thinking about it.”

“That’s basically how every guy feels,” I admitted with a shrug.

“I don’t think most guys have the same fantasies that I do,” my cousin explained with a grin. “It’s all I can do not to open my mouth and start sucking on your dick and lick the pre-cum you have drying on your thigh. Do most guys want to suck cock after cock, and get their assholes stretched out?”

I was so turned on, and shocked at the same time that a special word probably needed to be created to describe the feeling of excitement and guilt merged into raw desire for my cousin. What she was saying was scandalous and shocking but she stated it like it was simply a fact of nature.

Nixie rubbed her hands together like a surgeon scrubbing for surgery, and then she began to stroke my cock slowly with the lotion – gently, delicately, lovingly. Her pretty greenish blue eyes locked with mine.

“I know you are my cousin, and it will probably freak you out because technically it’s incest, but cock is cock, and I love jizz – a lot. You are one of the only guys on the boat, and you never seem to get soft, which blows my mind. I don’t want you to feel weird, but you may as well know that my sister and I are going to try to seduce you both. I can’t help it, George. Are you weirded out that I am playing with your dick?”

“Up. No,” I lied. It was weird, but I enjoyed it tremendously. I didn’t want to seem too excited.

“When I was behind you, I kept looking at your sweaty butthole, and imagining stuffing my tongue so up your bootyhole, and I know only dirty girls want to do nasty things like that to their cousin, whether you wanted it or not. I wanted to just pounce on you. The adjustments are basically discipline to keep me from acting on some of my desires. Don’t pity me for embracing being a mermaid. I don’t like myself without discipline, and the teasing and humiliation help motivate me not to just swallow your cute, puffy, dick and straddle you.”

“Seaman Nixie,” Stormy addressed her daughter sternly. “Less stroking, rub the lotion on your cousin’s balls, and then move to his solar plexus. This isn’t jerk-off time.”

Nixie bit her lip, blushed, and cupped my balls lightly with her creamy hands before moving on to my lower stomach.

“My mom and sister love sex, but I guess I am a nympho, George,” she whispered with chagrin. “I will literally do anything to get my rocks off. The only thing that I won’t do unless I am forced to is cheesy romance and French kissing. I hate how personal that is.”

“You’d kiss my butt hole but not my mouth?” I was surprised at where my cousin drew the line.

“I’d kiss your mouth if you wanted, but I am not a Mary,” she declared firmly. She could tell I didn’t get the reference, so she explained what a Mary was. “Mary is a friend of mine at school, who likes one particular guy. She wears shirts that say wifey to be, and has been dating him for several years. She enjoys sex. Sex to her is an extension of love and affection, and proof that her boyfriend Leo cares about her. She knows I am a trashy slut and she understands me about as well as I understand her. My sister and I use her as a reference to what normal girls are expected to like. She is basically the most vanilla girl that I know.”

“So, are you chocolate?” I joked as my cousin ran her hands up my stomach and across my bony chest.

“Hah, you are a clever guy, George. Vanilla is a term my family uses for people who aren’t kinky like us. I always assumed you were vanilla, and I worried when you got on the boat that you’d never be able to see me the same way after you find out I am caged.”

“Caged like a dog?” I scrunched my nose in disgust. That sounded particularly heinous and cruel.

“More like a bitch,” she mused playfully.

“Alright, semen gobblers, finish up their shoulders, chins, and faces, and then turn around and face away from your mate, and I’ll teach you pussies on parade, so they can return the favor,” my aunt instructed the girls on the boat to hurry up.

[EddieDavidson]

“I could play with your body all day long. You have very little body hair, and you are skinny like a girl, but you have a pecker. You have a pretty face, George. Mmmm, I am such a naughty little slut,” Nixie lamented, as she bit her lip and looked at me longingly while she stroked my shoulder with a fresh application of sun tan lotion.

I wasn’t sure how to respond to a horny girl, much less a horny cousin. I didn’t think girls had desires and sexual needs. I saw them as gatekeepers who you had to earn sexual favors from – and right now, my cousin’s longing eyes, quivering lips and body language was playing havoc with my preconceived notions.

I was truly a “fish out of water” when it came to any of this, and it’s not lost on me that I was standing on a boat at the time.


“Discipline has its benefits, but I would jump your bones and fuck the shit out of you if I could. I hope I am not shocking you. Did anyone tell you how we lived before you got on the boat?”

“Not really,” I admitted that my sisters seemed to have more conversations about it than I did.

“My dad likes to throw people in the deep end and see if they can swim, but he’s always watching to pull you out if you start to struggle. He may act like he doesn’t give a shit. I know you probably think my parents are super strict, but it really is good for me to be adjusted.”

“I just don’t understand it,” I admitted truthfully. “You like being a mermaid all the time?”

“I am told girls are hard to understand, and it may be counterintuitive to submit myself as a Mermaid and volunteer for extra punitive discipline, but I really wouldn’t want to live any other way. My parents have introduced me to people who served in swamps and the Arctic, and made sacrifices, all without a paycheck. I don’t think you can understand until you do it. I know you are probably worried about your sisters and mom, but this is for the best for them.”

“I don’t understand why my mom signed up for this,” I admitted as Nixie rubbed lotion in my cheeks and chin.

“I can’t speak for your mom, but Jinx and Cherry aren’t innocent little virgins. They needed an adjustment. This will be good for them. I am not sure if they’ll continue with any discipline when the summer cruise is over, though. They may get a snootful and decide it’s too much.”

I was surprised by how certain my cousin was of the benefits of the discipline.

“How does it work when people come to your house?” I asked.

“We have frolic time, and below and above deck protocol on the boat, it’s basically below deck for me at all times at home. Why do you ask?”

“At my house, you wore clothes, and I’d never have any idea you were a mermaid. I just wondered how people react to seeing you nude and stuff?”

Nixie rubbed lotion into my brow and finished my ears.

“We live in a nudist resort, so I am always naked and usually caged. My mother usually provides a little orientation for visitors so they don’t freak out that I cop a squat instead of sitting on the couch.”

“You cop a squat all the time?” I was shocked.

Nixie seemed to find my question endearing, and she giggled lightly as she turned around to face away from me. “My pussy is always wet, and I am not allowed to sit on furniture, but Giggles and Stormy cop a squat most of the time as well. It’s really not that bad once you get used to it. I am going to do Pussy on Parade for you now. I am guessing you have to lube me up next. Have fun and don’t worry so much. I am flattered you want to know about me, but we have all summer.”

My aunt broke down pussies on parade. “We don’t do parade rest, because seamen never rest. This is not rest and relax time. It’s focus, and a good seamen will be able to hold this position for well over an hour on a shaky deck without slipping or falling out. You’ll learn to remain attentive, but not rigid enough that you collapse.”

The girls slowly turned around as they finished lubing up their respective partner. “Feet should be shoulder width, toes apart, this keeps the blood flowing, nice and steady. Flat on the deck – but if you get ansy, I’ll put you on the balls of your feet. Bend the knees a little, thighs bowed, pussy flaps should be pointing toward the deck if possible.”

My aunt demonstrated with Nixie by grabbing her pussy lips and giving them a gentle shift as my cousin demonstrated for the other girls

“Hands are not military crisp at the sides, keep them loose and on the flat of your back, just above the butt cheeks about six inches. You fold left on top of right, but no one expects to know starboard from port, or left from right – so do your best and be consistent. Bend forward, nipples should be pointing to the deck, exposing your holes from behind – asshole and pee hole need to be visible. Maintain balance, keep your big mouths open wide like you expect a cock to be stuck in them. Only speak if spoken too. If you are told to wiggle your tail, you will gyrate that pussy and perform Kegels – popping your pussy open and demonstrating total pussy control.”

Stormy rotated her daughter in that position and let everyone get a good look at Nixie opening and closing her pussy.

“How do we do that?” Cherry pouted angrily in frustration and added that it was very embarrassing.

“Yes, Mermaids don’t need modesty or privacy, and by the end of the cruise, everyone will have seen every inch of your body, every wrinkle, crinkle, stray hair, freckle, mole, drippy slit, wet flap, and dirty, sweaty hole. You don’t have anything that should be hidden away, Cherry. You’ll be practicing pussy and ass control and learn to squeeze your gaping holes by flexing the muscles in your cunts to grip a cock. I don’t’ expect you to be able to do a kegel on command, yet.”

“We have to wink our butt holes?” my sisters were both shocked, and I noticed my mom’s turn bright red as an expression of guilt spread across her face.

“Don’t look at Pearl like she is the bad guy. She is doing this with you two twats, and me and my daughters are as well. A woman’s asshole is the best birth control you have already installed on your body aside from your big mouths. You’ll learn to grip and use them to please, instead of just shit and fart with them. We went over this in orientation before the cruise.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t know my dad would be watching, and my brothers too,” Cherry frowned.

“They are always going to be your father and brothers, but for this cruise, as a seaman, they are your mates, higher-ranking officers, and responsible for keeping the boat on course and you in line. This isn’t a negotiation. We are way past that, Cherry. Assume the pussies on parade position. We call it POP or parade position for short.”

My little sister seethed a little in frustration, but surprisingly she and my sister adopted the extended position, sticking out their butts bending over slightly in front of the guy that they just spread lotion on.

“Skipper, do you want to do the honors and walk the new mates on how to lube up a seaman?” Stormy asked her husband.

My uncle didn’t jump at the opportunity eagerly. He looked almost like he was put upon to do this. “It’s basically the opposite of what they did to you,” he said slowly as he walked to his where his wife stood and smacked her butt hard, while taking a tube of pig grease from her.

The slap didn’t bother my aunt at all. Her butt jiggled a little, but she didn’t even flinch.

“Show these candies the proper way to do a full pussy on parade,” he instructed.

My aunt faced her ass toward us, bent over, spread her legs wide, and assumed the position. I noticed she had a tattoo of the iconic eagle, globe, and anchor symbol around the rim of her anus.

“Seamen are tough, not Barbie dolls, and you aren’t doing them a favor by being gentle. They will be working in the hot sun, but we don’t want them to burn. You can play the bongos on their butts, grab their titties, goose them, and tease, but the goal is to get their fat, sweaty bodies covered from cooter to shitter, and all points in between with pig grease. They won’t break. You don’t want to draw this exercise out because they need to get back to work, but this is an opportunity for you to get more comfortable touching them. You can have 5 minutes on their backside and 5 minutes on their front. I’d like you to get this down to two minutes for each side once you have satisfied your curiosity and get used to touching them.”

I expected my mother or sisters to complain, but no one said anything.

“Open your gob wider,” Tom stuck his hands into his wife’s mouth, and forced it open. “My hands smell like fish, don’t they? Now, you know how your pussy tastes,” he quipped coldly.

Stormy didn’t struggle, but she mewled and groaned a little as he forced her mouth open with his big muscular fingers. “Don’t have a boat wife. The seamen will have their favorite mates. Dennis, I know you are going to want to train your wife, but Pearl is not your wife until the cruise is over. She’s just a seamen with a wet pussy and big fat tits. You can lube up, Giggles.”

My mom looked panicked, as if she was losing my father, as my dad grinned and walked over to my cousin and waited. Giggles also looked disappointed that her dad just gave her to my father.

“Come up here, Kevin. You started this with Stormy. Let me show you how to properly lube her up,” Tom told my brother to join him in front of everyone else as a wave broke against the boat and caused us to shift a little.

“Shane, anchor down,” Tom told his son, while squirting a big wad of white, creamy suntan lotion into his wife’s mouth and withdrawing his fingers. “Don’t eat the pig grease, it’s not cum, and there is enough here to cover your fat, sweaty ass,” he advised his wife with a sarcastic sneer.

Stormy obediently left her mouth open, and white cream dripped out of her mouth. Her husband grabbed some of the lotion like it was Crisco grease, and yanked his wife’s blonde hair up so he could slather it on her neck.

Her daughters started to giggle. it was just light soft tittering, but it was obvious that they found it amusing that their mother was being singled out and humiliated.

The part that was confusing to me was that my aunt seemed most embarrassed and emboldened at the same time in equal measures. It was as if she knew her place was to be ridiculed and yet it made her blush.

“This isn’t a stealth operation, Kevin. The seaman should know you are lubing them up and feel it. They like their hair being pulled, so give it a nice yank and get it all over their neck, and do their shoulders,” Tom explained briskly.

The white lotion in her mouth began to dribble down her chin like jizz, and droplets landed on her natural, teardrop-shaped boobs.

“You already did her back, but go ahead and show us you can massage that lotion into her leathery skin and make it stick,” Tom insisted.

My little brother complied, but he seemed reluctant to be rough and Tom had to stop him and make him do it a little more roughly. “They can’t eat it but they can hold it in their yaps and butts. That saves you the trouble of squirting it into your hands,” Tom said as he pushed the tip of the suntan lotion into his wife’s butt and gave it a squeeze.

Her daughter's chuckles became a little more emboldened and spread to my sisters and mother. Stormy had teased and talked down to them all afternoon and now it was her turn for her comeuppance.


“Ooohf,” Stormy blushed. I wasn’t sure if it was because of how humiliating it was to be handled so roughly, or from the farty noise from the lotion made when he squirted.

“Don’t squirt any in her twat, she’ll like that too much. Seamen are to be teased to the edge of arousal but never permitted to get off,” Tom said as if somehow Kevin would know how to bring a woman to orgasm.

Kevin grinned wickedly as he watched white goop drip down our aunt’s butt cheeks.

“Looks like seagull shit, doesn’t it?” my uncle asked as he whisked some of the drippings out of his wife’s butt and rubbed it on her ass cheeks. “Ideally, you can lube a seaman’s backside in two minutes. Get it down to one minute on top, one minute below the waist, but with an ass as big as Stormy, you may need more time,” he snickered as he slapped her ass.

“Semper fart,” Tom ran his creamy finger in circles around the rim of his wife’s stretched asshole. “Have you ever seen Stormy’s tattoo before?”

“No,” Kevin was in awe as he admired the detail around her crinkly, pink rim, while her pussy dripping.

“Stormy was a member of the rear guard,” he laughed as he looked down and spat upon her butthole. She quivered and blushed. “Tailgunner kegels, Stormy – let’s see you wink your pooper for your nephew.”

“Above deck, the seamen need to focus on their jobs but it’s okay to assign them a callisthenic – these are called pucker drills and Stormy can grip her shitter like she was born to take it up the ass. She’s got a sloppy wet pussy, pay no attention to that drippy pink sponge.” He tugged on his wife’s pussy lips and wiped his hand in her slit and then wiped it in her hair as if he didn’t care about her at all.

Oddly, my aunt became even more aroused.

“You’ll do back of the thighs, ankles, back of the knees and then work your way up from the toes to the twat,” Tom skipped over those body parts and ignored his wife’s performance as if he had seen it so many times that it bored him.

I was fascinated because Stormy’s tail gunner exercise looked not only deeply embarrassing but intensely difficult. She widened her asshole and stretched it to pucker it up like she was blowing a kiss. The tattoo moved and stretched open through sheer willpower and muscle control.

“Does it look like the ship is moving, George?” he asked without looking up. I blushed and looked away.

“Stormy’s goal was to let every Marine go deep. Her motto was leave no man behind! Everyone can deploy” Tom jokingly implied that my Aunt enjoyed taking it up the butt.

“Mom got that rear echelon tattoo to distract from her sour face and bad breath,” Shane joked. He rarely spoke, and it seemed odd that he had just insulted his own mother.

His father glared at him, and oddly, his mother took offense and glared at him over her shoulder.

“What did you call me?” she asked sourly.

I thought she was angry that he had insulted her, but she was offended he had called her mom.

“Sorry, I forgot you are fully Stormy, now,” Shane's apology was short and sweet without any sentiment.
“Shane, you know I'm not a stickler for protocol, but I'm not going to tolerate that,” his father chided him.

Once again, I assumed that Shane was in trouble for teasing my aunt.

“Shane, you've seen me do tail gunner drills and get teased and ridiculed like this as Helen at home many times, so I know it's not a big deal to you to address me as mom or Helen, but we need you to set a good example for the other mates. We need to fully adopt our mermaid personas, and that also means no praise or gratitude. Seamen accept no thanks, and we offer no excuses. We’ll know we’re doing a good job, because you aren't spanking our butts or sticking our heads in the toilet.”


“Don't be silly, Stormy,” Shane flashed a bemused smirk. “You love a good spanking and a marine bath. Don't be so sure just because you get the paddle that you aren't top bitch on deck.”

My aunt smiled warmly at her son even though he had just suggested she loved to be spanked and have her head dunked in the toilet. I wasn’t sure if Shane was kidding or not, but I had a feeling he wasn’t.

Tom approved of what he said and told us that we need to leave our polite manners on the shore. “You don't praise or thank seamen for just doing their job. All Stormy is doing is standing here winking her fudge maker and dripping her wet slime on the deck. she's not going to earn a commendation or a medal for the biggest dipshit smelliest twat.”

He patted her wet pussy, because Story was still holding the Pussies on Parade position.

“This horny slut is not entitled to dignity, so it's no sacrifice for her to lose it. My wife, on the other hand, is entitled to a little at home when she isn't misbehaving. there are no wives on the salty tuna. there are no girlfriends. There are no boyfriends. jealousy, possessiveness, and sympathy don't work here because they are confusing in the chain of command. All girls are treated equally. Now, Kevin finish up by doing her boobs and then her face and neck. I want you to also draw a word that best describes her on her back with your finger if she can guess the word, she gets 10 minutes free bee time. if not she gets 5 minutes.”

Kevin was beside himself with amusement as he carried out his instructions. He drew a four-letter word on stormy's back and asked “ isn't this word going to get burnt on her back if I wipe it off?”

“Yep,” Tom nodded, clearly I’m concerned about humiliating his wife. He asked her to guess what was written on her back.

“Cunt!” she smiled excitedly, held up a finger victoriously with a smile as if it were obvious that she had just won an additional 5 minutes rest time.

“No, I wrote Aunt.”

Everyone laughed, and Stormy looked a little crestfallen. “ I never realized that Aunt and Cunt were so close.”

“You are both,” Shane reminded her with a big smile on his face.

“While I'm stormy, I'm not even an aunt. I'm just a big fat cunt.,” my aunt agreed with a hearty grin. I was puzzled by how she could remain so glib and amused by the situation.

It seemed to me that not only was my aunt subjecting herself to humiliation and exposing her naked body in very revealing ways, but that she was giving up control and authority over herself and her son. She was giving up being considered a wife, and she was asking to receive nothing but hard work without gratitude in exchange.

I couldn’t understand why anyone would put themselves in that position, and yet my mother had done the same.

“Don’t put yourself down like that, Stormy,” my little brother played along with a devilish grin and added, “Aside from your big butt, you aren't that fat.”

The levity was welcome, and everyone, including Stormy, found the joke amusing.

“What you do on this boat with or to Stormy stays on this boat. She’s not going to be pissy, angry, or even bring it up unless you bring it up after. I expect all the seamen to do the same. Now, it’s time to apply what you learned, Charlie Mike.”

I assumed Charlie Mike meant for us to continue with what we were doing, because Shane began to lotion up my big sister. She looked angry, like she dared him to be disrespectful to her, but she let him rub lotion into her naked body.

Nixie had been waiting patiently for me to apply lotion. I realized she had her pussy stuck out, and her ass was fully exposed, and she had patiently waited for me to touch her.

“Charlie Mike means continue mission. When my Dad says it, it means to carry on as you were,” she explained.

I held the lotion she used on me in my hand and squirted a little out. “I thought you weren’t supposed to see him as your father?”

“It doesn’t work both ways, George,” she smiled at me as she waited for me to lift her hair and apply the lotion. “You are my cousin, Dad is my dad, he’s the boss at home and on the boat. He’s not a seaman or a mermaid. It’s hard to explain, but my mom and your mom voluntarily agreed to basically get busted in rank down to a slit and tits just like with no special authority or permissions over you. You still have to listen to your dad and my dad, though. I think you have to do with what Shane tells you, because he is more senior, but I really don’t know.”

“Do I have to pull your hair?” I asked as I awkwardly hovered my hands around her ponytail and considered yanking it like my Uncle had yanked Stormy’s hair. He told us not to give it a second thought, but I wasn’t clear if we had to do it or what.

“George, this is going to be a really awkward cruise if you ask me what you can and cannot do and put me in charge of you. I am used to being literally the lowest of the low in the chain of command at home,” she sighed uncomfortably. I knew she wouldn’t complain if I yanked her hair, but I still couldn’t process why she’d want me to do that to her.

I gathered my courage and bunched her hair up in my hand, and she tilted her head back like she had been waiting for it all along. She had touched me, but I had never touched her. This was the first time, I initiated anything, and the butterflies in my stomach were going crazy flitting around.

Tom released Stormy from holding the position, and the two of them were walking around supervising, offering advice, but not directing. I was worried they’d tease me for being so indecisive, so I gave her hair a gentle yank. “Like this?”

“However, you want,” she let her mouth drop open slightly, and relaxed her neck muscles as I pulled her head back softly and gripped Nixie’s auburn ponytail in my hand like a leash. “You don’t have to punch me in the back of the head, if that’s what you are asking.”

I assumed my cousin was joking and would have drawn the line at a punch to the back of the head.

Her bare back arched under my palm as I rubbed the lotion across her shoulders. She gave a little shiver, not because it hurt, but perhaps because in that moment where we connected, she realized I was being vulnerable and it made her feel vulnerable as well.

“Bee-zee,” my aunt walked briskly past us and observed how I handled her daughter’s hair and shoulders as if it were no big deal that I was touching her eldest daughter. I presumed from her tone of voice that she approved of what I was doing.

“Did Nixie hit on you when we visited?” my Aunt asked bluntly.

“No,” I blushed.

She looked at her daughter as if she didn’t quite believe me, and Nixie gave a little shrug and agreed with me.

“When we visit in the future, whatever you do with Nixie here, you can do at your house, but with me and Giggles, you’ll need to ask for permission,” my aunt informed me.

“You’d make George ask to hold your hair like this?” Nixie seemed mildly amused by that, as if her mother was being timid.

“No, you know that’s not how it works,” my aunt frowned at her daughter, and told me, “Tom and I made an agreement years ago. I am a hot wife, and that means that he is the boss of my pussy – my husband owns it. He can decide who I share my body, time, and affection with, and who I can’t. If you want to play with Nixie, just grab her like this:” Stormy grabbed her daughter’s hair by the roots and gave it a hard yank, while twisting one of her nipples.

Nixie blushed, and her mouth shot open in shock. Clearly, she didn’t enjoy having her hair pulled, but she didn’t defend herself. She smiled when her mother released her hair.

I was still puzzled by why Nixie put up with that, and even smiled after she had her hair pulled. Nixie didn’t rub her scalp or complain, she just took a slow breath and explained it like she was talking about chores. “Anyone around my house can smack my butt or give me a hard yank when I pass by. If you want to pull my hair hard, it doesn’t have to be during the lube drill. Just reach up and pull. Giggles pinches my nose until it turns red, sometimes.”

I didn’t understand, and I assumed they were just being mean to her.

“I consented to be a mermaid all the time, and it sort of pisses me off to be asked if I consent or if I want it. If you ask me if you can pull my hair, my gut reaction is to tell you to fuck off. It isn’t because I mind having my hair pulled. It’s just weird to have to say that I like being handled and teased – I signed up for it. You can handle me like a bag of trash when I come to visit your house, and I won’t mind.

I was extremely confused by that. “But how am I supposed to know you’ll like it?” I asked. My voice cracked a little because I was honestly unsure where the line or limit was.

“I don’t need to like it,” she answered firmly, her eyes steady. “I need to take it. If you smack my ass and I laugh, it counts. If I blush, it counts. If I wince and grit my teeth, it still counts. If you are worried about pissing me off or retaliation, then don’t. I will be more comfortable if we remain semi-consensual.”

“Semi-consensual?” I asked. I didn’t realize it, but I had already begun slathering lotion down her back, and I had reached my cousin's butt.

“Yes. Semi-consensual,” she said again sticking her ass out a little for me. Her mother stood nearby listening with an approving expression on her face.

“It means when we meet up, you don’t have to ask before you touch me. I enjoy the surprise. You can try to sneak up on me. I love it when Shane launches into our berth in the morning and tries to catch me sleeping. He rarely does, but every now and then, he’ll pour ice-cold water all over me.”

I could imagine Kevin doing something like that, because he loved to play pranks, but not cool as a cucumber Shane.

I frowned. “But what if I do something that really hurts?”

“Like what?” she asked, clearly intrigued while glancing over her shoulder at me coyly.

“If I twisted your nipple so hard it left a mark?”

Nixie smiled and told me to try. “Marks heal, and I love bruises. It also depends on context. If you are just trying to get my attention, or if you are trying to punish me because I fucked up.”

“You are a mate on the ship, so you are supposed to discipline all of us, but when we are off the boat, I am the only mermaid unless your sisters and mom decide to continue. I would assume that if you visit us or I visit you, you are allowed to correct my behavior and discipline me unless my father says otherwise. You are a guy, and so that automatically makes you smarter than me, and if I do something rotten or naughty, you’d be doing me a favor not to ignore it.”