Liza's New Life Ch. 01

Lynn didn't give Jake a chance to finish his sentence; she just screeched and ran below. Sam and Jake looked at each other and shrugged their shoulders with a faint smile.

"What kind do you like, Liza: ham or turkey?"

I chose turkey and he put it on a fancy plate with some potato salad and fruit for me. The boys then asked me to sit in the captain's chair, a tall swiveling seat by the wheel. My plate and coke sat nicely beside it on a little ledge meant for charts. The only catch to my pampered status was that I had to swivel the chair to face the boys who sat at the table. My knees had to be spread far apart.

So, that's how we ate our picnic lunch: I on my perch, displaying my charms to my adoring public, the boys devouring me with their eyes, and Lynn sulking below.

We were almost finished when a large motorboat maneuvered about thirty yards away. Sitting on the high chair, I knew that they could see me, had most likely been spying on us, and I asked Sam if I could go below.

"Hell, no! Give a big wave and a smile," he said.

So I did, wondering all the while what the fine is for nudity at sea. I felt my breasts jiggle as I waved and grew even more self-conscious. I instinctively slammed my knees shut, but Jake was quick to remind me to keep them open.

The boat came closer. As it did, Jake and Sam stood and yelled to them, "Show us your tits!" Sure enough, a woman in her thirties stood up and lifted her top for the boys. They hooped and hollered.

"Hey, Lynn!" Sam called down the ladder. "Get up here and show your tits to this boat and I'll give you a cookie."

"Go to hell!" came the response.

"Hey, Lynn!" Jake called. "Sam will give you lunch, but you have to throw your clothes overboard first."

"Fat chance!"

"Okay, but that's the deal. Sam's mind is made up. You know how he is."

"Leave me alone!"

The other boat sped away during the exchange between Lynn and the boys. With lunch and the show over, they began to tidy up. Once they stowed everything, they raised the anchor and set about rigging the sails, wanting to catch the breeze that had come up during lunch. They told me I could watch, or sunbathe on the bow, or whatever. I felt suddenly discarded, but also freed.

"How 'bout if I go down and check on Lynn. Can I take her a plumb?" I asked.

"Well, maybe a plumb would be okay, huh Sam?" Jake tried to be a peacemaker.

"One plumb, but we better see something for it. Liza, you convince her. That's why you're here," Sam reminded me, as if I'd forgotten.

I took the plumb and climbed slowly down the ladder, giving my eyes a chance to adjust to the dimness below. Lynn sat on the couch dabbing her face with a tissue; she had been crying. I held out the plumb for her and smiled. She reached for it greedily and bit into it quickly. The juice went everywhere; even hit me on the belly. I had never seen anybody eat a plumb so fast. She sucked on the pit.

"Why'd you just run away like that?" I asked.

She shrugged her shoulders as if she didn't know, but said, "They treated me like a baby. I just never know what to do when people do that."

"But running away is exactly what a baby would do."

"Yeah, I guess I tend to act how I'm treated."

"That's something we're all guilty of, I suppose. But don't you worry about my bikini. I'm glad you threw it away. I hated the damned thing. Marc though it was cute the way it became transparent when wet."

"Really?"

"Really."

"I'm so hungry," she said softly.

I sat down on the couch beside her and put my arm around her.

"Maybe you should just do what they said."

"What? You mean about my clothes? Were they serious?"

"Yeah, of course. All you have to do is look at me to see they're serious about such things."

"You mean I can't eat unless I..."

"That's the idea."

"Is this how they got your clothes off, by starving you?"

"No," I chuckled, "They used other means with me."

"I could never, never..."

"But it's not like Jake has never seen you naked, right?"

"He hasn't."

"What? I just took it for granted that you two were 'hot n' heavy,' what with that little grab down the pants and all."

"No. I'm a virgin."

"Wow!" is all I could reply.

"Not only have I never let a boy in my pants, but none has ever seen down there, either."

"My, my. You are full of surprises, to quote a friend." I smiled and gave her a little hug with the arm I still had around her shoulders.

"I've made a mess of everything. Jake is going to hate me, now."

"No, we can fix this. We'll give them a quick show and everything will be fine. It wouldn't be so bad to just let them have a look, huh?"

"It would be horrible!"

"No, it's not so bad, really. You get used to it, and besides, Jake lets you play around down there. Isn't it time for a little quid pro quo, or 'tit for tat' in this case?"

I got only a faint smile out of her.

"I never really thought about it like that. Holding on down there is just something I've always done."

"What? Always?"

"Yeah...well, with my brother, anyway. It started when we were young, very young. I don't even remember, we were so little. Mom says it happened first when she was bathing us together in the tub."

"Your mom knows about this?"

"Oh yeah, she knows all about it. She's all for it. She says it keeps Allan in line."

"Allan's your brother?"

"Yeah. He's a year younger than me. You see, Dad died soon after he was born, so Mom had to raise us on her own. I helped her keep my brother in line by keeping a hold on his privates. Little boys can be pretty rambunctious, you know."

I laughed and so did she.

"Didn't he ever retaliate?"

"How? I don't have anything he can grab a hold of. And besides, once I have him in hand, there's nothing he can...or wants to do. You see, I don't do it just to control him. I know how to make it feel good, too. When we're home together I have my hand down his pants most of the time: while we're watching television, or eating, or whatever. We grew up that way."

"My god. I've never heard of such a thing," I marveled. "Isn't it awkward, or uncomfortable?"

"No, not at all. He wears jockeys, and when I put my hand down the front, the jockeys just hold it there; it's like a little nest. It's really nice and warm and comfortable."

"But he must be getting hard all the time!"

"No, after all these years I can control that. When it starts to get hard I know just where to squeeze and how much pressure to apply. But like I said, sometimes I let it get hard and help him get off, just to be nice."

"And you do this to Jake, too?"

"Yeah, but only since the other day when he was at my place. We were in the kitchen, standing beside each other. I was distracted, talking to my Mom, and just without even thinking I reached down his pants, as if he were Allan. He was stunned like a deer in the headlights of a car, but he sure did like it. Mom just laughed and assured him that it was fine with her. So anyway, I kept my hand down there all the way through lunch, with my mom sitting across from us, watching the whole time. Mom says that the woman should always have control of the dumbstick."

"Oh, my god," I laughed and laughed.

Lynn laughed too, and her mood brightened.

"How long have you known Jake and Sam?"

"I met Jake a couple weeks ago. I went to the warehouse where my Mom works – she works for Sam's dad; just started as his secretary – and I saw him loading furniture. He asked me out, and we've been together a lot since."

"So you met Sam through Jake?"

"Yeah, the two are joined at the hip. You get one you get the other."

"You three do a lot together?"

"More and more. We have fun, and Sam provides things Jake and I could never do on our own. Sam can be a little bossy at times, but Jake is a good influence on him. Jake is sweet, and cute. Don't you think?"

"No doubt about that."

"Well, they both probably hate me, now. I'd give anything to have things back the way they were."

"You know," I said, "Instead of going back, maybe it's time to bring your relationship with Jake forward a bit."

"No, forget it. I'm not going to fuck him. No way."

"No, I'm talking about just letting him have a look. I think that's all he really wants, anyway. You know, the boys really are quite gentlemanly about it."

"No," she brought out slowly, "I would be too embarrassed. I'm not like you."

"But there's no need to be embarrassed. Why would you be?"

"My body is not like yours," she said. "You are a woman. They expect to see another woman. I'm just...a little girl."

"Well, you are young looking, but I'm sure..."

"My breasts are tiny and I can't even grow more than a few scraggily hairs down there. It's embarrassing. In high school I could never shower with the other girls in gym class. It was just too humiliating. I felt like such a little girl. Everyone treated me like a kid, and I always felt like one. I never even had a date until Jake."

"Really? Jake is your first?"

"Yeah, but I guess that didn't last long."

"Well, don't give up just yet. We'll come up with a way to make it right." I gave her a little squeeze. "You know, you don't have to be ashamed of your pubic hair. It's perfectly natural for blondes to be sparse down there. I don't have much of a bush either. You should just shave it, anyway. It's all the rage now, you know, and the boys expect it. No one has to know that you didn't have much in the first place."

"But I've been wanting, trying so hard to grow..."

"Yes, I know, I know. Hey, I'll bet there's a razor in the bathroom. What do you say, huh? I'll help you."

"It's called a 'head' on a boat."

"Okay then, the head. Let's look in the head."

I stood up and took her hand, pulling her slowly and reluctantly into the standing position. We did find a razor and some cream in the cabinet.

"Okay, let's do it!" I tried to be as enthusiastic as possible. "This will be fun. You'll love how it feels. And you'll look just like me...Hey, is this why you were so quick to have a look at me when I came on board?"

"Yeah, I'm sorry. When Jake told me you shaved down there I just starting thinking about it, and my own hair, and it was driving me crazy. I thought I would just burst before I could see for myself."

"Hey, no problem." I gave her a hug. "Now, let's get started."

I watched her unzip her denim skirt. It fell to the floor and she stepped out of it, then looked with a horrified face toward the ladder leading to the cockpit.

"Don't worry. They're busy sailing. They won't come down here."

She put her thumbs in her plain, cotton panties and tugged them down, a whole lot slower than when she pulled my bikini down. What I saw took my breath away. Her mound was huge. Her pussy lips protruded from between her legs further than any I'd ever seen. Her slit looked like it was separating butt cheeks, not pussy lips.

"My god! You're gorgeous," I exclaimed.

Her hand went immediately to cover herself.

"No, please. I'm serious. I've never seen a more beautiful, a more perfect pussy.

"Really?"

"Really!"

"But the hair..."

"Never mind that. You're going to be rid of that in two seconds."

I guided her back to the couch where I positioned her so I could shave her. She was unwilling to spread her legs beyond a few inches at first, but I finally prevailed, inch by inch. She jumped slightly as the foam hit her, and we had a good chuckle about that. The few hairs she had came off easily and quickly. I wiped off the excess foam with a towel and surveyed my handiwork. Lynn bent over as far as she could to have a good look.

"Beautiful!" I proclaimed.

"Do you really think so?"

"Absolutely. Now let's go show the boys and get you some lunch."

"No, it still won't work. I'm not taking off my top; there's nothing you can do about my breasts...and I'm not throwing my new skirt overboard, no matter what Sam says."

"How 'bout if I convince them to let you eat with your top on? That would be okay, right?"

She sucked in her breath and paused, thinking it over.

"You talk to them. But you tell Jake that if he or Sam laughs at me I'll kill myself."

"They won't laugh. I guarantee it. They'll think you're beautiful, just like I do."

"The top stays on!"

"I'll talk to them."

I was already at the ladder when she added, "And nothing goes overboard!"

On deck I found the boys as happy as kittens sailing their boat. I went up to Sam and spoke softly so Lynn wouldn't overhear us.

"Sam, I managed to get Lynn's bottom off, but she's very shy about her breasts. Couldn't you let her keep her top on for a while? If you go slowly with her, I'm sure you'll get what you want in the end. Just take it a step at a time, okay?"

"Really? She's really bottomless?" A big grin appeared.

"Yes. And don't make her throw her clothes overboard. She probably spent a lot of money on the skirt."

"Well, okay. But she has to bring me her skirt and panties and exchange them for half a sandwich. That's all: half a sandwich for half her clothes. That's the deal."

"And she eats from the chair, just like you did," Jake chimed in.

"I'll talk to her," I said and turned for the ladder.

"And only half a coke!" Sam added.

"Yeah, yeah," I muttered under my breath as I reached the first step.

Lynn was standing just out of sight from the hatch, both her hands tightly cupped over her crotch. I went up to her and placed my hands on her shoulders. She looked expectantly into my eyes.

"Okay, it's all set. Sam agrees to everything."

"Really?"

"Yes. All we have to do is fold your skirt nicely (I let go of her to pick up her skirt and panties as I talked) like this, arrange your panties artfully on top, and then you can hand them to him nicely, you see? Take them."

She held out one hand without enthusiasm, keeping the other cupped tightly against her pussy.

"No, flat," I explained, "As if they were on a tray, with both hands."

"Why do I have to do this?" Lynn asked.

"It's for the exchange. The deal is your skirt and panties for half a sandwich."

"What do you mean, half? I want a whole sandwich!"

"Well, now, you have to admit that it's a fair deal: half your clothes for half a sandwich. Come on, it's the best I could do. You want to eat something, don't you?"

"I want a whole, big lunch. I'm hungry and it's just not fair..."

"Now, now. Don't cry. I'll go back and talk to him again. I'll make him see reason, okay?"

I hustled back to the cockpit.

"Sam," I said, "she wants more food than what you're offering."

"If she's so hungry, why is she spending time arguing about it? Just tell her to get up here and show us what she's got."

"Please, Sam, give me something I can take her to make this happen."

"Oh, all right. Tell her she can have a bag of chips with her half sandwich if she takes off her t-shirt as well. That's the best I can do."

I turned and ran below without so much as a "by your leave."

"Okay, Lynn. I got you a bag of chips, too. Now that's plenty for a little girl, right? Come on, be a sport. It's time to get on board with this. You want them to like you, again, don't you?"

"I guess," she said in resignation.

"Good girl. Just one more thing. I had to promise him your t-shirt for the chips.

"What?"

"Hey, it's okay. It's just your t-shirt. You can keep your bra on. That's plenty of cover, right? More than most swimsuits – certainly mine, right?"

I reached for the bottom of her shirt and began to push it up, just testing for resistance; I knew I wouldn't be able to just yank it over her head. I uncovered one cup without a problem.

"Hey, now that's a great looking bra: very pretty and stylish. Come on, give me what you're holding and take off your shirt. It's time to eat, huh?"

Reluctantly she handed me her things, released her death grip on her crotch, and raised her t-shirt over her head and off. She studiously, deliberately folded it, placed it on her up-turned palm and nodded to me to add her skirt and panties to the pile.

"Okay, let's go," she said.

"Great. Now when you get up there, try to be as casual as you can. That's the key. Don't try to cover yourself. Believe me, that just makes it worse. If anything, be a bit defiant: dare them with your eyes to look at you. That always helps me. Okay?"

She said nothing, but nodded her head. I could tell that a million thoughts were going through that head, a million emotions. I remembered the humiliation and exhilaration of my first unveiling. I wondered if she was as wet as I.

I went up the ladder first, wondering how she was going to handle the chair. I purposefully didn't mention it. I didn't know how to bring it up without risking a complete breakdown of negotiations. I just hoped for the best. I stood with the boys and the three of us watched the little girl emerge from the depths of the boat.

I was proud of her. She emerged confident, standing tall, without the slightest humility. She held her garments before her with both hands, as if they were a fragile treasure. When her bare bottom came into view the boys gasped reverently. The three of us were transfixed. She walked up to Sam directly, not turning her head to look at either Jake or me.

"These are for your safe-keeping. You have my lunch?"

Sam took her things and placed them in a nearby chest, the one with the basket in it. He opened the basket, pulled out a sandwich, unwrapped it, took the smaller half and put it on a plate. Along side he added a small bag of potato chips. He handed the plate to Lynn.

"Come sit in the place of honor," Jake said gently, taking her by the elbow and leading her to the captain's chair.

She suspected nothing untoward, trusting Jake was just being nice. He had her put the plate on the nearby ledge, then helped her into the high seat. As soon as she was seated she crossed her legs and locked her ankles together, and reached for her food. She took the sandwich in one hand and the bag of chips in the other. No one was going to take these precious items from her. A single, quick bite made half the sandwich disappear.

Reading Jake's mind (which is always easy to do, his being such a stickler for spread-apart knees), I went to her. I placed my hand on her knee and whispered in her ear.

"Darling, you mustn't cross your legs."

I gently drew her right leg from on top the left, and made it rest on the seat. Lynn's attention was more on the second bite of the sandwich, but I could tell she was aware enough of her surroundings to keep her knees together with determination. A portion of her huge mound was visible even with her thighs together, but I knew the boys would not be satisfied; I had to get her to spread her legs.

I stepped in front of her and forced my hands between her knees. "Old ladies keep their knees together," I said, "but pretty young girls never do; it just isn't proper."

She looked at me as if I were from another planet. Her eyes grew big, but her chewing continued unabated. She stuffed the last of her sandwich in her mouth and brought her now free hand to cover her crotch. I grabbed it and pinned it to the side. She brought the hand with the chips to her crotch, but I grabbed her wrist and pulled her arm away. The chips went flying. She swallowed.

"What are you doing?" she yelled.

"I'm teaching you some manners," I said.

"Manners?"

"There's a proper way to sit. Relax!" I ordered.

"Let me go!"

"Don't move and I'll release you."

"You're hurting me."

"Do you promise to be good?"

"Give me my chips!"

"Promise?"

She didn't reply, but I felt her body go limp. I let go of one of her arms, then the other. They remained at her sides.

"Good girl," I said. "Now, I'm going to position your legs properly, then I'm going to get your chips for you. Once in position, you mustn't move. Understand?"