Anchors Aweigh
by Tarl Cabot
Copyright© 2026 by Tarl Cabot
Erotica Sex Story: Machinist's Mate, Seaman Jack Harper find out how hard life aboard a Submrine can be.
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Ma Coercion Gay Fiction Military Workplace Humiliation Light Bond Anal Sex Oral Sex .
Three blasts of a sharp, shrill whistle sounded throughout the hull of the USS Abyssal. A US Navy (SSN-912). A Sentinel Class Submarine. As the whistle faded, a Stern voice came out over the comm system. Capetian Samuel Mitchell Announced;
“Now hear this. All hands, prepare to get underway. Set the sea and anchor detail.”
There was no rush of men racing to their stations, just the steady, practiced movement of sailors heading to their stations. Ready to get back to work after an extended liberty.
The Captain glanced once around the control room, then nodded. “XO, take us out.”
“Aye, Captain.” The XO stepped forward, voice carrying easily over the low hum of the boat.”All hands, this is the XO. Shift to sea detail. Duty section, man your stations. Line handlers, stand by to single up all lines.” The orders were clear and concise.
“Forward, ready to single up,” came a confident voice over the comms. Then, “Aft ready to single up.” came the follow-up only seconds later.
“Single up all lines.” Came the XO’s command, only a moment later, “Lines singled up, Conn.” and the comm line snapped off.
“Very well. Let go all lines.” Stated the XO, and was instantly rewarded with an acknowledgment that all lines were clear. The XO didn’t raise his voice, but every word carried authority. “Conn, ahead one-third. Come to course one-three-five.”
The Conn Officer replied crisply.”Ahead one-third, coming to course one-three-five, aye.”
There was a gentle vibration as the engines took hold, the submarine easing away from the pier with deliberate precision, another patrol beginning like so many before it. As the boat settled into a steady forward course, the captain called to the XO.
“XO, I want Chief Wilson in my Stateroom, now,” snapped the Captain as he turned and left the Control room. A practiced ‘Aye, Sir’ could be heard as he left. On the way down, he passes an Engineer and stops him briefly.
“Chief ... Have Machinist’s Mate Seaman Harper report to my stateroom immediately.” The Engineer responds with a crisp ‘Aye” as the Captain continues on. The Captain’s stateroom was slightly crowded as both Chief Wilson and Seaman Harper stood staring at a picture of the Monitor and the Merrimack taped to the bulkhead above the Captain’s bunk. The Captain scribbled a few things in a notebook and looked up.
“Seaman Harper...” he began in a sharp tone. “You were late returning from liberty. That’s unacceptable. Chief will assign you a corrective task.” He stated and punctuated his words, so Harper knew it was a statement, not a question.
He then turned to the Chief of the Watch. “Chief, assign MM Seaman Harper a corrective task. I want it completed before we submerge at twenty hundred hours, not a minute longer.” Then turned back to his desk with a dismissive wave.
Both men snapped off a crisp, “Aye, Sir!” then turned and left, closing the hatch behind them. If the Captain knew what was about to transpire, he gave no indication. He trusted Chief Wilson and attended to the rest of his reports.
Twenty minutes later, both Chief Wilson and Seaman Harper were outside the boat, and tethering themselves to the Weather-deck forward of the Sail. The main issue was that Chief Wilson was in uniform and Harper was naked.
“Start scrubbing!” Wilson yelled over the sound of the waves crashing against the hull of the boat. Harper got down on his knees. The metal of the deck was cold, and he could feel bruises beginning to form as he worked.
For nearly two hours, Harper scrubbed a constantly wet and slippery deck that never seemed to come clean. Or not as clean as Chief Wilson seemed to want it to be. When he’d made it close to the Sail, Wilson had him stop and looked down at him.
“Explain to me what you were doing that was so damned important, you made your Capetian and the rest of your mates wait to ship out.” Wilson’s demand made Harper shrink back a bit.
“Well, Chief... “ Harper began. “I was with friends and...”
“I don’t care!” Chief Wilson shouted, cutting Wilson off mid-sentence.” He motioned Harper forward but had him remain on his knees. Then, as soon as Harper was close enough, Wilson unzipped his trousers and whipped out his massive cock.
The surprise on Harper’s face was evident as he stared at the Chief’s long, thick member. “Chief?” he asked questioningly. But the Chief only grinned.
“Worldly young man like you,” The chief began. I assume you know what to do.” Harper just knelt there, poleaxed by what was happening. Wilson spoke up only a minute later.
“Alright then,” the Chief bellowed over the wind. “We’ve got an hour to sundown and twice that til twenty-hundred, so I’ll make this an order, and you can debate it later!”
The Chief took two purposeful steps toward Harper. “Seaman, Machinist’s Mate Jack Harper!” Wilson paused there for effect. “Suck my Cock! That is an Order!”
At that, Harper placed his hands on his thighs and opened his mouth. He leaned in, closing his lips around Wilson’s cock and began to suck.
“Mmmm, do a Good job, Seaman,” Wilson moaned. “And I’ll get you a fresh cup of Joe to your rack tomorrow morning.” Wilson threw his head back and moaned deeply as Harper took his entire shaft to the back of his throat.
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