A Mermaid Christmas

They passed the time by fine-tuning the control of their new bodies as much as their shapes offered. Both tried to swim horizontally as if they truly were mermaids, even without gills, but the weight distribution of their tails overbalanced their torsos and without hard effort they tended to flip to a heads-up position.

Given the studious natures of both Rachel took the task to chronicle their joint efforts as feedback for Mermaid v1.0, as Bezerg had made clear they were the beta models. With the long-term goal not only mastering Earth's oceans but the myriad of environments offered on other planets and space itself it was clear to both that Bezerg Industries had hard work ahead.

The wall opposite the entry doors had a large screen and they had movie nights, they'd been joined by different Anastasias with bowls of popcorn. It had become quickly obvious these strange women preferred comedies, be they slapstick or more cerebral, again making clear there was nothing wrong with their ability to listen and understand despite their rare use of speech themselves.

Sarah appreciated the reminder. She'd flashed back more than once on Bezerg's strange obsession with traditional English butlers and other house servants and how in movies much intrigue resulted from the gentry thinking that because the servants assiduously hewed to 'speak only when spoken to' the aristocrats could happily blabber on about yesterday's scandal, today's mishap, tomorrow's nefarious plot as the servants went about their duties. Many a grandee came undone when it turned out their words had met the wrong ears.

Margaret had sent them an email that outlined the legal team with whom they'd work on the Mermaid Proposals, headed up by the senior lawyer who'd led many of their bar exam prep exercises. He'd been gruff but once he'd seen the promise of two of his charges he'd shed less promising specimens and had driven the two young women hard. They'd loved it, had thrown everything they could back at him. Unless Margaret's inside information was wrong, and she'd not yet been caught out, that had apparently paid off with successful bar exams.

The email had said the first conference call would be mid-January and it was expected that the two of them would outline the approach, since they were literally 'closest to the situation' and they'd best be ready to present it. They'd used that goal to try to drive each other to distraction by calling out case law precedents as they raced in the pools, to put the other one off.

All in all, Sarah thought, this was truly the strangest holiday season she'd ever had, but there had been little, in fact, almost nothing to complain about.

Well, maybe the food. They hadn't found a flavour that the smoothies couldn't replicate but really, sometimes you just want something solid to sink your teeth into.

And especially in her dreams she did miss her formerly long, lithe, powerful legs.

Auld Lang Syne

"Wha... what the hell?"

Sarah was unsure if it was Rachel's exclamation or the stereo buzzing of their tablets that woke her.

"What fucking time is it?"

Sarah was first to her tablet as Rachel knocked hers to the floor and her initial 'fucking' was soon red-faced as it was quickly left behind by ever more inventive language.

"Five... almost five a.m.! It's Bezerg calling!"

Sarah poked it to answer the call.

"Ah, Sarah, Rachel, good. You're awake!"

Someone was singing near their ultimate boss, cheers, Sarah watched the video of Bezerg's face bounce as he was jostled by the crowd.

"Horns... boat horns," Rachel said softly, then she yelled, "we're up now, asshole, it's not even five in the morning. Some of us need our beauty sleep!"

Laughs at the other end, apparently Bezerg had them on speaker!

"On the big screen," Bezerg said as his finger approached the screen and suddenly their wallscreen lit up with a massive closeup of Bezerg's face.

"How the hell...," Sarah mouthed as she and Rachel looked at each other before they looked back at the screen.

"You've gotta see this you two," Bezerg flipped his phone's camera and they saw the reason for the movement.

Bezerg was on a boat. In front of him were many other boats, all bobbed up and down in a gentle swell. They watched as the camera's focus settled on a world-famous arched steel landmark that had just started to light up with pyrotechnics.

"The crazy bastard's in Sydney," Rachel said, "he said he was going to be here for New Year's?"

The bridge exploded. Well, no, it didn't. Sparklers fired off left to right along the length of the span and then reversed direction across the top of the massive arch until it returned to its starting point. Tendrils of flame rose up from barges on either side of the bridge and rose while towers of sparks shot up from a dozen points on the bridge. Bezerg's camera pulled back into an extreme wide angle to capture the bright bursts of the rockets at the apexes of their flights. Screams and cheers fought for dominance with booming explosions through the unparalleled sound system they'd been provided.

Neither Bezerg nor the mermaids said more as the cacophony made it futile. They watched the show grow to a thunderous climax as the entire bridge spewed flames and sparks and the sky lit up with a rainbow of colors as more explosives than most militaries possessed just about boiled the water of their pool as the sound rolled out of their speakers.

The few seconds of silence were almost palpable before the stunned audience on the scene found their voices and let forth with resounding cheers. Their view went grey before Bezerg's face returned but with slightly less background noise. He'd apparently found a cabin or something based on the wall behind his head.

"What's up, boss, not going to be here?"

"Oh, sweet beautiful Rachel," Bezerg said, "no way would I miss New Year's with my two loveliest mermaids. But I'm a time traveller, I have HOURS before that happens. And plenty more partying before that. Just make sure you two are ready to par-tay tonight! Get your beauty sleep!"

"Well, quit waking us up at five a bloody m and we will!"

Rachel chuckled at Sarah's inability to use language more appropriate to the situation, she got a tongue poked out at her, the messy blonde mane around it still obvious a bed head.

"Gotta run, things to be, places to do," Bezerg said before the connection dropped.

"Oh, hell, not again!"

Rachel pulled the pillow over her bed mussed hair as their tablets announced a second call from Bezerg. They'd both managed to sleep again after musing on what the evening might be and it was just before eight a.m.

It was Bezerg. In Singapore. Apparently. They watched a second set of fireworks and celebration.

"Maybe he's green-screening this? He's, like," Sarah pointed at the doors opposite the screen, implying he was in the house.

"Nah, not our boss."

"We have the supersonic plane...," Sarah's eyes were unfocused in thought, "it'd make it to Singapore from Sydney, I think. But it'll never get here without refueling."

"Yes it can," Rachel said, "my dad's in aerospace, I'm not that kind of geek but I picked up a bit. That plane can go suborbital, like a missile. We've kept that quiet, after the disasters a couple decades ago 'space tourism' got a bad name. This is another case where Bezerg is keeping quiet until it's really ready."

"Like the invisibility screen around this place..."

"Not invisibility, it just, somehow, bends the view, twists it. But well, it hides us. I'm going for a swim, I don't know where he'll stop next but clearly we're included."

Sarah's smile at that was soft but clear.

They were given a seven hour reprieve before they were regaled with views of the Eiffel Tower back lit by massive starbursts and loud orchestral music as they floated along the deck and watched the big screen. This time Bezerg was joined by the handsome and sexy French Prime Minister, Navarre Baptiste.

"Happy New Year, ladies," he said in excellent English just tinged with an accent that caused their nipples and the slit in their tails to tingle.

"Maybe he'll come along tonight," Rachel said softly but half-hoped a ubiquitous microphone would pick it up.

"He is an Enn, is he not?" Sarah winked at her and Rachel put on her best approximation of being insulted she could manage.

"He is married, I hear," Rachel said.

"And he's French...," Sarah shook her head, but smiled broadly. Rachel bit lightly on her tongue as it just protruded from the corner of her mouth.

Shouted farewells from the screen and it went dark. Almost in sync the doors behind them opened and their director led four of her twins into the room.

"My sweet mermaids," the unique blonde said to them, "let's get you ready for the party!"

One pair of 'regular' Anastasias worked on their hair while the other pair busied themselves with striking if subtle makeup. Since the mermaids wouldn't be wearing clothes, they'd have just a touch of glitter to highlight their large and almost permanently erect nipples, as well as their eyes. It was all waterproof as the director explained that the barriers would be down to use almost the whole deck for the party. Specially selected guests would be there but she refused to divulge more than that, even if she did know who they might be.

"Will Margaret be here?" Rachel was surprised at the borderline tone of longing in her voice. She, and Sarah, both deeply respected the woman, but that night, Rachel's experience, had put her relationship in a different place. The dark-haired mermaid was surprised at the touch of disappointment she'd felt at Margaret's absence since Christmas.

"No, I'm sorry, Rachel, she's hosting a series of parties for many of the Bezerg employees. Our..."

The pause was long enough that even the four Anastasias slowed their movements as Rachel and Sarah watched the director's expression flash before she smiled and seemed to relax.

"Our sisters are with her."

The tablets signalled another incoming Bezerg transmission and forestalled followup. The background was the building that no matter how many others surpassed it in height, and there were now hundreds, it was still recognizable to almost every viewer.

It was the Empire State Building.

Bezerg was apparently in New Jersey as his view took in the array of barges that had already begun to loose their rockets in front of the skyline of midtown Manhattan past the placid waters of the Hudson River. As usual cheers fought with the rolling cannonade.

At the end they saw three faces. Bezerg's of course. On one side Monsieur Baptiste, who it seemed was along for the ride. Rachel had a strong tingle in the slit she thought of as her pussy at the sight. On Bezerg's other side was the chiseled and handsome face of Octavio Crenshaw, the young and dynamic mayor of New York City.

"We'd best get a move on, ladies," the director said firmly, her voice controlled again, "they'll all be here soon!"

It was an hour to midnight and Sarah and Rachel bobbed in the big pool as butlers, whether man or woman, they were all in tuxedo-like uniforms, and two blonde Anastasias in barely any clothes at all bustled around the deck to finish off tables of food and drinks. Heaters around the perimeter made the space shirt-sleeve comfortable. It may have been Los Angeles and a clear, starlit night with a waxing moon having risen a couple of hours ago, but it was the end of December. Even a southern California mountain top wouldn't simply accede to Melon Bezerg's command to be warm.

So as he usually did, he made it so.

At some silent sudden signal all of the butlers quick-stepped to positions around the perimeter as the Anastasias strode to the double set of doors that led into the house at the far side of the deck. They caught the mermaids' eyes and smiled and nodded before they pulled the doors open. A second later the sounds of laughter and conversation was clear before Bezerg's long strides brought him into view. He looked to his right and down and acknowledged Sarah and Rachel before he stopped and turned as he stood on the deck even with the end of the pool. They paddled slowly backwards as planned until they were a third of the way across the pool. The sounds from hidden sources stopped.

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to my home this beautiful evening."

He spread his arms and lights along the pool where the sidewall met the bottom turned on and illuminated the mermaids from below, their scales and the water caused a glittering, iridescent effect as the softer lights around the deck reflected off of their hair.

Navarre Baptiste led the delegation through the door and onto the deck, Octavio Crenshaw right behind him, followed in turn by unrecognized to the mermaids but likely no less illustrious attendees.

"Please enjoy my food, my drink," Bezerg said, "and my mermaids."

Sarah did a slow paddled twirl, Rachel followed a split second later so they could smile and greet the audience in turn. They saw mouths drop and eyebrows raise, clearly a number of these people had not been amongst the favored few on Christmas Eve. They stopped and bobbed.

"I'm Sarah."

"And I'm Rachel. Welcome. I hope you all have your suits with you, the water's perfect!"

Rachel had to fight to keep her face impassive at the response, the accent even more effective live as she had her first, small, orgasm of what she hoped would be a few dozen before all of this was over by the time the sun came up. If she was to die in the effort, she'd make sure she took a few others with her.

"I was under the impression we wouldn't need suits."

The French Prime Minister's eyes caught Rachel's, he winked, she flicked her tongue almost across her lips. He nodded so subtly she believed no one else would have noticed.

Sarah missed the director's voice in her ear that they'd had at the Christmas Eve 'unveiling.' Other than the faces from Bezerg's calls of the last few hours, few of the thirty or so attendees were regulars on news feeds. Her impression over the last three-quarters of an hour was that the others were lower-level government ministers, responsible for trade, science or industry, as opposed to the direct involvement of leaders such as the handsome French PM or New York's mayor.

Like this tall, beautiful woman next to her as they sat on the deck. The last third of Sarah's tail swished next to the woman's long, bare legs. She'd been at the Christmas Eve event, Sarah recognized her voice from their countdown and she'd also brought up how impressed she'd been, confident in her accented English. Sarah had surprised her with passable Spanish and they'd spent a bit of time in mutually fluent French.

Bezerg was a whirlwind, he'd introduced many of the attendees in turn and almost all had wanted to touch their tails. There'd been not so subtle efforts to touch their skin and breasts, which they'd discouraged. But gently. The pair had mused on the ability of their hair to drape lightly around their huge breasts, yellow and black tendrils that kept them from being obviously topless and exposed. With practice they'd found they could use subtle shakes to control the exposure. Even wet, the hair hewed to its task.

This woman, Partenia Saucedo Ruiz, had dark brown hair that only just touched her shoulders and fit like a pair of brackets each side or her head, angled bangs fell across her forehead. Her eyes were dark and she was somewhere around forty, Sarah guessed. She'd offered lustful eyes at the brunette Anastasia who'd taken the blazer she'd shed shortly after arrival. Now she sat in her very short skirt and a white button down blouse that fit snugly across breasts that were smaller than Margaret's but certainly larger than what the mermaids had prior to their transformation.

And, Sarah thought, the woman had no concept of personal space. Her hand rested on Sarah's red tail and she tried to twine her bare right foot with the fin. She seemed to misinterpret Sarah's nervous twitches as some sort of dance. The mermaid had smiled at their first meeting, her angle had allowed her to see the woman favored the same tiny g-strings as did Sarah.

"Ok, everyone, it's time," Bezerg's voice didn't need amplification, he didn't yell but as usual it carried and conversations went silent.

"You can stand at that corner," he pointed to the southeast, then the southwest, "or that corner. Those are the two shows out there. But don't be disappointed, I have the finale to end all finales!"

"What about you, Sarah?" Partenia asked, the last syllable cut off as a blonde Anastasia reached one hand down to help the Argentinian up and the other held a full champagne flute. Sarah smiled as her new friend's eyes widened at the angle that allowed her to see the trimmed blonde landing strip before she lifted her feet out of the pool.

"We have our secrets," Sarah said as two Anastasias wheeled out frames that they'd been quickly shown earlier in the day but hadn't been able to try. The 'carts' were rolled into place and an audience gathered as the mermaids rose to their 'knees' and they were helped to place their arms over rests, which were then winched up and a support slipped into place which allowed them to 'stand' alongside everyone. A round of applause.

"Can I get two big, strong men to push me?" Rachel's voice was deep and slow and she had two volunteers almost immediately. Navarre Baptiste and Octavio Crenshaw, two men more used to doing the ordering but in this case they obeyed.

Sarah heard a voice and turned her head.

"Come, sweet Sarah," Bezerg's voice was soft, kind, "come with me."

He pushed her to the opposite corner from where the majority of attendees had followed Rachel's cart. Partenia Ruiz wavered for a moment before she joined Rachel's crew at the southwest corner.

The shows were underwhelming. Both Grand Park to the southeast and Burton Chace Park on the Marina del Rey waterfront to the southwest were well below them in altitude and relatively far away. Hidden screens came on to carry the shows and speakers carried the matching concerts.

"Kiss me, it's midnight," Rachel shouted, the French PM was first before she pushed him back and found the New Yorker's mouth. After a moment she pushed him back as well.

"Ven a mi hermosa mujer, soy todo para las relaciones internacionales," Rachel looked at Ruiz who smiled and their dark hair mingled during their open-mouthed kiss, the Minister's free hand went to the mermaid's right breast and caressed the nipple. A shiver ran through Rachel's body.

"Voy a probar tu coño antes de que termine esta noche. And I'm going to taste these men. Both of them," Rachel whispered the Spanish then upped the volume as the other woman kissed the mermaid's cheek and worked down her neck and gave her own shiver as Rachel's hand found her shapely if still constrained left breast.

"Indeed," Sarah turned to the voice and was surprised by Bezerg's mouth suddenly on hers. She wavered for a moment before she eagerly returned the kiss. It seemed an hour and ended too soon.

"Soon," he whispered then spoke in his usual voice, "now, everyone, look up!"

Somewhere high above them and the city a series of multiply colored blooms spread across the sky, from somewhere over the San Fernando Valley southward directly over their heads and to the tip of land at Rancho Palos Verdes.

"One hundred miles high and you wouldn't believe the pain in the ass approvals," Bezerg said to move the group from cheers and applause to laughter. Tendrils of color spread widely until they thinned and finally dimmed to match the darkness of the sky.

"And you even arranged for a clear sky," someone said, more laughter.

"Let's go, in my pool," Rachel shouted and she directed her slaves to push it to the edge where she flipped the switch she'd been shown and slid into the water, "since no one brought suits, it's skinny dip time!"