"I'm sorry sir, the beach is closed for a private event this week."
My heart sank and my shoulders slumped as the curt resort attendant offered his condolences. I had booked this trip months ago after my girlfriend dumped me, maxing out my credit cards and travelling halfway across the world to get here only to find my dreams of a relaxing beach getaway squashed on my first day.
"I'm surprised you were able to get a room at all, sir. We host this event every year and we rarely have any vacancies. Are you sure you're not with the group?" The beach concierge asked, giving me a once over. My mind raced and I nodded my head, I hadn't come this far to give up now.
"Oh, uh, yeah, I'm with the group, for sure." I muttered, scratching the back of my head and tapping my flip flops nervously on the ground.
"Mmm. Are you sure, sir? This weeks events cater to a very specific clientele,. The attendant asked once more.
Damn, what was up with this guy? Couldn't he just chill out and let me use the beach? What sort of private event takes up an entire beach anyways?
"No worries, Martin. This one's with us, I'll vouch for him." A gruff, deep voice boomed over my shoulder. I spun around to face a man in his mid 60s, his broad chest at my eye level and his bright white smile beaming from behind a finely cropped beard. I gave the man a polite smile and mouthed a 'thank you' before turning back to the concierge.
"Ah, well then pardon me, if you're with the group, the beach is yours," The attendant smiled at the large man standing behind me.
"You'll need to change into the proper attire, of course. Event policy. Are you a Shark, an Octopus, or a Seahorse?" The attendant asked.
"Uh..." I stumbled. A Shark? A Seahorse? Was this some kind of a test? My mind raced as I struggled to choose, the voice behind me once again chiming in to my rescue.
"Oh, he's a Seahorse if I've ever seen one." The large man chuckled, walking up beside me and placing his towel on the counter. "Make sure he gets the full Seahorse treatment."
"Excellent, we're short on Seahorses this year! Please head into the changing room if you would, sir. Once you've removed your clothes you can hand them over to me and I'll give you your swimwear," the attendant explained.
"Oh, okay, perfect, yeah! Thanks, I'm 100% a Seahorse." I played along, ready to do just about anything to get down to that beach. I quickly slipped into a dressing room and stripped naked in front of the full-length mirror, taking just a brief moment to look at myself with a sigh. Hmph. Skinny, smooth, big hips and a small dick. Maybe that's why Jenna broke up with me. I was hardly very manly at all. Oh well. No use worrying about it now. I'd make sure once I got home to double up on my gym routine and put some muscle on my otherwise slender frame.
I tossed my clothes outside the dressing curtain and the attendant shoved a small black bag into the room. A small, pink seahorse was embroidered on the side of it. Curiously, I opened it and fished the contents from the pouch.
"What the hell is this?" I scoffed. The bag contained a black one-piece monokini with a small pink seahorse sewn onto the crotch. I immediately poked my head out the curtain only to find a long line of men waiting to change behind me.
"Uh. Where did the attendant go? C-can I get some help here? I think there's been a mistake." I called out.
A tall man at the front of the line sneered and shook his head.
"He went back to the front desk. C'mon, kid, hurry up and get changed, they take all your clothes back to the hotel. Hurry up, hurry up, go! Go!" The man yelled, shooing me back into the dressing room.
What the hell? What was I going to do now? My clothes were gone. They hadn't yet given me a towel. My only options were to put on this ridiculous suit or try to sneak back to my room in the nude!
"Damnit..." I muttered as I slipped my legs into the tiny monokini, the thong barely covering my small cock as I looped the top straps behind my neck. This was a WOMAN'S suit. Why would he give me this stupid thing? It even had two tiny black triangles that barely covered my nipples. This couldn't possibly be the proper 'event attire' could it?
The man on the other side of the curtain shouted for me to hurry and I quickly made my way to the opposite door of the dressing room that led to the beach. Okay. Maybe if I was quick, I could find a towel and get it around me before anyone else saw me. With a sigh, I darted from the room and onto the beach, squinting in the bright sun as I desperately searched for a stack of towels.
"Hah. We meet again." A gruff, familiar voice boomed above me. It was the older man who had helped me get into this predicament in the first place. Instantly mortified I crossed my hands in front of my crotch and turned my gaze from his.
"Uh, yeah. Hi. Shit. Do you know where the towels are? They gave me a woman's suit by mistake!" I explained. The man answered with a chuckle, hand on his hip.
"Hahah, no they didn't. There aren't any women here. This is a gay private event...and you're a Seahorse." He grinned.
"Wait, what? A gay event? What do you mean? I'm not gay." I whispered, quickly turning my attention to the large crowds mingling on the hot beach sand. He was right. There wasn't a single woman to be found. Instead, all I found were throngs of scantily clad men, their tanned bodies glistening in the warm sun. Most were wearing regular men's swim trunks but to my shock a few were dressed in the same ridiculous outfit I had been given.
"Not gay? Huh. You picked a hell of a week to come to this resort. Yeah, we all get together and rent this place out every year. Great place to meet someone...if you're gay, of course. If not, well...maybe a little embarrassing for you, honey." The man laughed again. It was then I noticed he was wearing a pair of regular swim trunks with a shark stitched on the side.
"Whoa, whoa. That's the SHARK outfit? Why did you say I was a Seahorse?! What the hell does Seahorse mean?" I stuttered, completely flustered and embarrassed as I tried to hide from the rest of the beach goers behind the large frame of the Shark in front of me.
"Heh. Well, Shark means you're a top. Octopi, they're versatile. And the Seahorses are the bottoms. Because they get ridden the most. Get it?" He seemed quite pleased with explanation but my brow furrowed in frustration as he failed to answer my question.
"So why did you tell that guy I was a SEAHORSE?" I repeated, I felt my face flush hot and I knew I was blushing.
"Well because you look like a Seahorse, cutie. Besides...I kind of wanted to see what that ass looked like in that g-string. Hah, it's cute. Like two fluffy little marshmallows." I suddenly became very aware the man was leering at my nearly nude body and I held my hands even tighter across my crotch.
"Hey, relax, Marshie," the man muttered, turning to face the beach. "You'll be fine, no one here even knows you. Look, let me show you the ropes on how all this works..." His big hand gripped my shoulder and he pulled me along with him onto the beach. Head lowered in shame; I took a few quick glances at the crowd from beneath my shaggy blonde hair. True, I felt a few eyes on me as I meekly followed behind my escort, but no one seemed particularly bothered or offended by my attire.
"Okay, look here. See these flags all down the beach?" The man called over his shoulder, pointing out various markers that segregated the beach for a good mile down the coast.
"The red flags mean 'Not Looking'. You stay on this side of the red flags and no one will make a pass at you. It's totally safe here. The green flags mean 'Looking'. If you go there, then you're gonna get hit on, for sure. So if you don't want a bunch of horny men ogling your little marshmallow ass cheeks don't go over there, okay, Marshie?" The man explained.
"Hey, don't call me that," I pleaded. "My name is Jeremy."
"Hah, yeah, okay MARSHIE," the old man teased, slapping me on the shoulder as he adjusted the waistband of his shorts under his large beer belly. I gave him a quick look up and down, the man was huge. He had to be at least 6'4" and over 300 pounds. He had a thick dad bod and a head full of white hair. He exuded an extremely commanding and dominant kind of energy and I could feel a swell of pity for whatever poor bottom got pinned by this big guy.
"I'm Roger. You need any help, you just come find me, okay? I'll help you out. Like I said, relax. Enjoy the sun, enjoy the water. Stay by the red flags and you'll be fine." Roger explained.
I surveyed the area and glanced down the coast, squinting as something caught my eye further down the beach.
"What about those black flags down there," I asked, pointing. "What do those mean?"
Roger's gaze followed my finger and he smirked, shaking his head.
"Don't go down there. That's the 'Free Use' area. They call it Fuck Beach. That's where all the sluts hang out," Roger chuckled. "You're not a slut now, are you Marshie? No, you're just a good little straight boy, right?" He grinned.
I could feel myself blush once more as I shot daggers at the larger man. I certainly was not gay despite my current outfit screaming otherwise. Although I had to admit, the way Roger looked at me made me feel hot inside. My stomach churned with butterflies when he called me a slut.
"No," I answered. "And don't call me 'Marshie.'"
---
As the hours passed, I found myself enjoying the beach in spite of my ridiculous getup. I had managed to find an umbrella and a chair and set myself up a few yards from the water. Just like Roger said, no one bothered me and I slowly dropped my guard and began to view my situation with some humor. Hah. I booked a tropical vacation at the gayest resort on the planet by accident. It would certainly make for a funny story in the future.
The afternoon stretched on and I quickly found the sand had grown too hot on my exposed ass cheeks. I stood and quietly made my way towards a stack of inner tubes, grabbing one as I padded down to the water, trying not to draw too much attention to myself. After hurdling a few small waves, I found a spot of calm water and climbed onto the tube, my fingers laced behind my head as the cool ocean breeze swept over my bare stomach, my nipples stiffening beneath the monokini fabric.
