The following day dawned bright and sunny but with ominous clouds looming to the west, right in our path.
King Neptune and his court had announced to all and sundry the upcoming Crossing the Line Ceremony and the accompanying Wog Day. Wog Day, actually an evening, allows the Pollywogs to get a little of their own back before their initiation. The Pollywogs are allowed to 'capture' any shellback and practice some of the activities which will be visited on them the following day -- with the warning that which they do will be revisited on them only moreso.
King Neptune also announced the beauty contest to be held tonight. Each work area was to present before the admiring eyes of the crew a beauty from their section with a little cross-dressing in made up bathing suits. Each section chose either the fellow who could be classified the ugliest 'woman' or the best looking and then dressed them in whatever outfits they could which resembled, to at least some degree, a woman's bathing suit -- one piece or bikini was their choice.
By 1830 hours, the beauties were ready and as many of the crew as possible squeezed into the mess. I squished myself in to ogle what the sections had come up with. Communications, Weapons, Stores and Radar all entered the hairiest member of their crews. Seeing these hairy beasts decked out in bikinis made up of various ship items was hilarious. Watching them walk down the 'runway' increased the audience's enjoyment.
Engineering had chosen Andrew Baskins as their entrant and had dressed him in a bikini made of three gob caps and what looked like butcher's string. He was, by far, the best looking entry and not just in my eyes. Andrew garnered more hoots and hollers than all the others combined. I could tell he was relishing the positive attention by the way he played to the crowd, especially wiggling his tiny bare ass at the loudest members of the audience.
Indeed, Andrew won the 'beauty' contest grand price, a tin foil-covered cup. Petty Officer, First Class Wayne Schmidt took second and Seaman Jeff Wu third. Both had also shown as much skin as possible.
Following that contest, Wog Day began in earnest. The five Pollywogs could do want they wanted with any of the shellbacks, those of us who had survived their own Crossing the Line ceremony, within reason. I had declared raw eggs off limits because of the heat and risk of salmonella other than that....
The five Pollywogs had decided to play relatively safely by using shaving cream pies as weapons. They had stockpiled several of these and began launching them at specific targets, most frequently their superior officers or workmates. Lieutenant jg Russell lofted one at me and hit me full centre in the chest.
Those who saw this froze. What would I, the ship's Captain, do in the face of this assault? I put on a stern expression, glared at the lieutenant and marched up to him. He looked concerned. I slowly wiped some of the shaving cream from my uniform. I held it in my hand under his nose, "Lieutenant jg Mark Russell, do you know the punishment for attacking your Captain even with a cream pie?" I demanded loudly. He shook his head and trembled all over. Silence descended on the room.
I continued, "Court martial, sir, court marital!" The shellbacks caught on more quickly than the pollywogs and began chortling around us. "Hung from the yardarm at dawn, drawn and quartered, sir!" I was doing my best Captain Bligh impression. Then as open laughter erupted, "Or, this..." I smeared the cream on his astonished face. Someone handed me another pie which I shoved into his chest.
Russell wiped the cream off his chest, and smiling, flung it at me before darting from reach. The 'battle' continued even more enthusiastically.
In a mischievous mood, I grabbed a can of shaving cream and getting behind Zuckerman, pulled out the waistband of his skivvies and shot shaving cream all over his ass -- a lovely ass I noted in passing -- before snapping the waistband and smearing the cream on his ass through his skivvies -- nice firm ass I noted.
I started something and very quickly a number of men were having cream shoved into their underwear. Most with a shaving can as I had but some with their fellow's hands. I noted Marine Captain Tiessen shoving his cream filled hand into the gym shorts worn by one of his men -- the front of his gym shorts -- and that it lingered a bit. Something to explore later.
Thirty minutes later, King Neptune called for order and demanded of the pollywogs what further mayhem they planned to inflict on the crew. The five of them, who seemed to have received the worse of the 'battle', shook their heads declaring themselves done.
The crew acknowledged the pollywogs with cheers and laughter and, good military men all, set to cleaning up the messy mess hall.
I noticed Andrew had been stripped of two of his gob caps and the third hung rather low on his hips, his genitals well covered with cream. He caught my eye and gave a huge grin turning to wiggle his cream covered ass at me as he returned to cleaning.
Lieutenant Withers stood beside me. "Well, that was certainly fun, sir."
"Oh, I would say a good time was had by all. Did you have fun, Withers?"
'You could say that, sir," He drew my attention to the front of his uniform the inside of which was cream filled.
"Anyone you know?" I asked.
"Not as well as I intend to know him, sir. ... Very soon."
We left the men to their labours and retired to our individual cabins.
