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Chapter 4

A month after our kittens were born, on a sweltering and humid July morning, I had my first real brush with death on the Sea Fang. Coincidentally, it was the day after our sixteenth birthday. The night had been spent in an awkward celebration, everyone gathered on deck for slightly fancier food than hardtack cooked by Lillian, the tiny waif of a bat Saurian who served as Geist's cabin girl. She'd made some awful attempt at a kind of... potsticker? I guess? It was doughy and fried and filled with vegetables. It tasted terrible, but we ate it with gusto. The crew mostly took it as an opportunity for a second rum ration without getting in trouble. That was fine by me. No presents were exchanged, which was also fine--anything they gave me would probably have been pulled off some sorry bastard's corpse anyway.

I did take issue with their leering at my sister, who gave them dirty looks as she tried to feed the twins, earning her lustful stares from several crewmen, plus a couple of the women. But she didn't back down--she even gave one pirate, a Constrictor Vithis everybody called Palms (short for "Harry Palms," a play on his name), a wicked shiner when he tried to get her to give him breast milk straight from the source. He got heated, but a harsh word from Geist put him back in his place. I glanced at Val, whose tail had begun poking out of his swaddle, but Nola was already on it, casually tucking it back into his blanket before anyone could notice. I released a breath I hadn't known I'd been holding.

Aside from that, there were no other instances of violence. A couple arm-wrestling duels, a game of something called "Greased Pig," a little song, a little drink, and then we went to bed with unusually warm and full bellies.

Seven hours later, the Sea Fang was drenched in blood.

* * *

I knew in an abstract sort of way that seafaring life was dangerous, but it was brought home when a half dozen Carcharadons crept up the sides of the ship and attacked us in the early dawn hours. Man, let me tell you. I'd seen feral sharks plenty of times at this point, the ominous efficiency of their profiles, the maw of jagged, horrifying teeth, the eyes black and empty of anything resembling Anthro emotion. The only thing I'd ever seen more terrifying was a real live goddamn dragon. Outside of Korrix, I didn't think anything could frighten me like those vicious, alien predators.

Should have considered the existence of shark-folk. Stupid me.

Their attack failed, of course--they were outnumbered two to one--but they made us fucking pay for it. No warning from the crow's nest. One second, we were groggily moving to our stations to start the day, weighing anchor and unleashing the sails, and the next second, giant beastly Anthros with nightmare eyes and massive fanged mouths erupted from the sides of the Sea Fang and tore into us.

I'd never seen Anthros that acted like ferals before. But even that doesn't quite describe them--ferals have instincts, purpose to their movements. They fuck to breed, they kill to eat, they fight to defend territory. These Carcharadons didn't even have that. They didn't want us for food, or for booty (Geist told us later they never took anything from ships they attacked). They came upon us to murder us, just to see if they could. Their lifeless black eyes bored into us as they attacked.

Ivan fell in the first few seconds. He'd been leaning on the gunwale in the foredeck, tying off some rigging, when the first Carcharadon scrambled over the side and lunged at him with a head that was easily sixty percent mouth. Ursids are damn big, but this fucking shark-man just bit his left arm clean off before Ivan knew to defend himself. The bastard took an arrow to the socket from Itsuo immediately after, but it was too late. Ivan bled out in a matter of seconds.

Akimi, a thick-hipped Ailurid (first of their kind I'd ever met) took a hideous gash to their abdomen from one of the Carcharadon's vicious claws before I wrapped up its legs in my whip and Lita, a parakeet Saurian with a nearly indecipherable accent, drove a harpoon into the thing's neck. It kicked and snarled, trying to tear her throat out even as it bled to death, before finally collapsing.

In less than a minute, fiveinvaders and one crewman were perished, and three others were injured--Giest had a wide but shallow cut on her forearm, and Palms had a ring of puncture wounds around his pecs and stomach where a Carcharadon had tried to bite into his whole damn torso. We stitched wounds, bound Akimi's whole abdomen in gauze wrappings, and looked for the reason Ivan was dead.

As the adrenaline faded and we looked around at the thick layer of blood coating most of the foredeck, Geist said in a deadly quiet voice, "Who was in the nest?"

All eyes turned to a jittery, scowling chihuahua Canid, his paws rubbing together anxiously under the weight of over a dozen eyes bored into him. Marco "Rip" Marron looked accusingly at me before facing his fellow crewmen. "Rip?" Geist asked with deadly calm. "Where were you in the fight?"

"I... I was... here... Cap'n." He twitched so hard he made himself flinch.

Geist turned to the others. "Anyone see Rip during the fight?"

No one spoke. No one had seen him.

"I-I-I just--" He didn't finish the sentence, because Geistpointed at him. In a split second, four other crewmen grabbed him and started tying him up. She turned to me expectantly, and it took amomentfor my battle-fogged brain to realize she wanted me to do something. I shrugged uncomfortably as Rip squealed and begged, struggling against his bindings. "I fell asleep!" he cried. "I-I stole an extra rum ration and it put me out! I know it was wrong, but it was a party! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Come on, Cap'n! It won't happen again! Oh, gods, please!"

Geist kept scowling at me, and I swallowed. She'd gone over the rules of the ship in the first week. Falling asleep while posted in the crow's nest was one of the most heinous violations there were, for exactly the reason demonstrated by the Carcharadons. Ivan was dead because Rip took a nap. Whether he woke for the battle and hid in the crow's nest, or just slept through it, didn't much matter--the punishment was the same. I knew what happened next. I knew it was supposed to be me who did it. My guts churned.

I turned to the nearest crewman, a mandrill Simian named Amawet. He stared back at me with a blank, miserable expression. "Get rope. Seventy feet, at least." Amawet just kept staring at me, and I growled, "Did I stutter?" The Simian hesitated another moment before slouching off to find a suitable length of rope.

Now that the danger had passed, Nola crept out from around the back of the poop deck where our cabin was located, staring in horror at the entrails and gore piled up across the deck, which the swabbies were only now starting to push off into the water. Down below, a plethora of feral sharks swam in frenzied circles, ready to devour their Anthro cousins as soon as their eviscerated corpses splashed into their demesne. Nola turned to me, a child in each arm, and looked at me questioningly. She only had to look at my face before her own fell.

"Leon...?" she whispered.

"Take the kittens inside, sis," I murmured, gently squeezing her arm. She hesitated a moment, then finally nodded and went back into our cabin. Nola had seen some shit in our time in the Pit and the Spike--Hells, she'd lived some shit--but that didn't mean she needed to see this. I sure as fuck didn't want to.

The crew was deathly quiet as they worked. Lita weighed anchor and the riggers scrambled up into the rigging to unfurl the sails and get us underway. We couldn't do what needed to be done with sharks infesting our waters--we had to put some distance between us and the blood-crazed ferals. The Sea Fang cut through the small, cresting waves with ease. Geist and I stood in front of Rip, who was bound to the mainmast, still gibbering and pleading.

My heart sank. I didn't like Rip. I didn't like anybody on this ship, save for my sister and children, and maybe Itsuo; the old Simian didn't treat me like shit like the rest of the crew. Rip sure as Hells didn't like me back. I'd had to beat him to an inch of his life six times, all told, and he'd still flout my authority. Drove me up a fucking wall, not to mention being exhausting. But not liking someone doesn't equate to wanting them to die. Rip was about to die.

My mother looked like a statue, her face was so hard. She didn't move an inch as she stood, arms crossed, and stared Rip down. Eventually the Canid's pleas became inane gibberish broken by intermittent sobs. I had to fight back both tears_and_ bile, now. I wanted to be anywhere in the world but right here. Hells, I would have taken the Pit again over this.

After an hour on the open seas and a thorough inspection of the waters around us for feral sharks, Geist called for us to drop anchor again. The Equus, Annabelle, and a scraggly Delphian called Dewdrop, untied Rip and re-bound his paws and feet to an extensive length of rope, which was weighted at its center and thrown over the bow of the ship, letting it sink down until it came to rest in a long loop under the_Sea Fang's_ belly, making Rip the top of a rope circle all the way around the ship's circumference. Another weight was attached to Rip's feet. At this point, the Canid simply stared murderously at me. It was clear he blamed me for his predicament.

I wasn't sure what he thought I had done, exactly. I didn't tell him to steal the extra rum ration. On the rare occasions there was extra booze around, that was fair game as long as it lasted, but the rum rations were a different story. The citrus mixed into the liquor prevented scurvy, and the drink was rationed out to make sure there was enough for long stretches at sea. As pirates, there was never a guarantee of when we'd make landfall again. The longest gap between ports thus far had been two months, and that had gotten dicey. Two people got sick, though thankfully not scurvy. From what I'd heard, that shit was not a party you wanted to be invited to. So, stealing extra rum was a huge no-no. I'd put a few scars on a few backs already over it. But falling asleep while on watch was worse, and abandoning your crewmates in the middle of a battle was magnitudes more heinous. Ivan could attest, if he was still alive.

Dewdrop and Annabelle had Rip rigged up and ready to go. Annabelle hefted the scrawny Canid up over her shoulder and walked to the port railing, Rip struggling and screaming the whole time. At a nod from me, she tossed Rip bodily into the water. He stopped yelling long enough let out a meek yelp as he fell, then sank into the murky emerald depths.

I let him sink for a few seconds, then grabbed the length of rope and fed it into a pulley, cranking until it was taut. I didn't wait too long--the point wasn't for Rip to drown. It was so, so much worse.

Ships live their entire lives with half of them in the water. That half grows a thick layer of rough, jagged barnacles. Once in a while they get cleaned off while at port, but for the most part they're ignored. Until someone earns a keelhauling, that is--then they get tossed over the side attached to a rope and dragged across the barnacled belly, or keel, of the ship.

I grasped the taut rope in two paws and began to tug. I yanked and jerked, one paw over the other. Even though Rip was a small guy, it was hard work. The muscles in my left arm shuddered and complained. I felt it when he began snagging against barnacle clusters, jerking the rope taut and forcing me to yank again to pull him further along. After less than a minute, I knew he was dead; the rope stopped tugging and jouncing, and only hesitated when his corpse reached another set of barnacles. But I kept pulling. One paw over the other.

One paw over the other.

One... over the other...

When Rip finally came up the other side, his right arm, his left foot, and his whole fucking face were missing. No eyes, no muzzle, just a massive, gory hole where they used to be. The front of his skull had shattered and his brain had vacated its original home, leaving an empty, waterlogged room in its place. All the flesh had been shredded away from his ribcage and abdomen, and most of his intestines had caught on barnacle clusters and been ripped bodily from him. His heart had stopped pumping while he was fully submerged, so there actually wasn't much blood to speak of. He didn't look like an Anthropus who'd been begging for his life five minutes ago. He didn't look like anything that had been a living, thinking creature ever.

He looked like meat scraps.

I didn't vomit, but gods, it was a near thing. More than that, I wanted to cry. I'd snuffed out a life for no other reason than my captain demanded it. I gave the rope one final tug before releasing the pulley, and the ragged remains of Marco Marron landed on the deck with a sickening splat. The crew watched the scraps of their comrade slide across the planks of the midships deck, slowly oozing back and forth with the tilt of the ocean waves. Geist looked at me expectantly. Her gaze was no less stony for her son than it had been for Rip. I turned back to the crew, swallowed, and spoke. At my voice, they turned glumly in my direction.

"I never killed anybody in cold blood before," I said hoarsely. I couldn't keep the raw emotion out of my voice, so I didn't bother trying. "I killed in self-defense, and Thrasher by accident. Never cold blood. This... this is gonna haunt me until my last, gasping breath in this gods-cursed world. I could live a thousand lives and never be rid of this horror." They looked at me like a monster, with horror or revulsion, and no small dose of hate. I let it wash over me. I was still sick, and I couldn't afford to let their disdain affect me. Instead, I snarled at them.

"And by the trident of Tartaros, I will not hesitate to do the same to_every last one of you_ if you cause the death of another crewman by your ineptitude. Do I make myself clear?"

Sullen eyes widened with sudden fear. The weird Lepid boy with a metal arm who couldn't lose a fight, who fucked his own sister and tore their friend to pieces, and now stared at them with an alien intensity. Shit, I was scared of me.

One by one, they muttered, "Yes, sir."

I stared at them all for another pregnant moment before snapping, "Get to work."

The bodies of our crewmates were tossed unceremoniously into the sea. Lita weighed the anchor, and within minutes we were underway again. I stood, unable to move, my stomach still screaming as it flipped incessantly. A steadying pawgrasped my shoulder, and I turned to see my mother looking at me. She wasn't stern anymore, nor was she sad. Sympathetic, maybe. And... proud? It was a look I never thought I'd see on her face, and I hated it with every fiber of my being. I didn't want her to be proud of me. Not for this.

She vanished into her cabin, and Itsuo sidled up to me. "Come with me," he said quietly. On the rare occasions Itsuo spoke, it was almost always quiet. He never needed to shout at someone to get their attention like I did. Unlike me, the crew actually respected him. He'd never treated me poorly, but he'd also never shown this kind of conspiratorial camaraderie, either. I followed him mostly out of curiosity.

I found myself sitting with the aging Simian on empty barrels in the cargo hold, his oddly-shaped face staring at me across a makeshift table from a large wooden spool. His wide, expressive mouth pursed at me thoughtfully as he scratched his fingers through his silver-dusted brown fur. "First keelhauling," he said ponderously, with a sympathetic glance. "Was a bad one." I didn't have anything to say to that. I mean, it was obviously rhetorical.

He pulled a bottle seemingly out of nowhere, a dusty green thing with some dark liquid sloshing in it. He used his wide, flat teeth to pry out the cork before handing it to me. I took a pull. It was not rum, whatever it was. The citrus and water in the rum rations helped make them a smoother drink if somewhat watery and bland, but whatever this was didn't have that. It was dry and heady, but also fruity and spicy. "Kastigan spiced wine," he said. "Go easy. It's strong." I took a second pull and handed it back, my face bunching up from the bite of it.

"Fuck," I wheezed.

Itsuo chuckled and drank as easily from the bottle as if it were water. A little spilled onto his chest fur, and I found myself glancing at the toned muscular pectorals underneath the sea of soft brown, then watching the droplets trail down onto his round, soft belly, cutting dark little paths through his fur. I looked away shamefully. I'd killed his lover--how was it he was having a drink with me now, after killing another of his friends?

He studied my face for several moments before passing the bottle back. "My first keelhaul, I had to kill my best friend," Ituso said. He didn't put much emotion into the words, but then again, he never did. "I loved him. Very much. He did not reciprocate, but..." He shrugged. "He tried to steal from the Captain's booty. Same penalty as dereliction. He tried to turn his face from the keel, so when he came back up, the left side of his face was just... gone. Turn his head one way, beautiful fox boy. The other, dead meat. I still think about him sometimes."

I took another drink of the spiced wine and felt my brain get a little fuzzy. Damn, he wasn't kidding--this stuff really was strong. "I don't know if I can do this, Itsuo," I whispered as I stared at the bottle.

He didn't respond right away, just held out one leathery hand waiting for the bottle. I gave it back and waited uncomfortably for him to chastise me for my words. He drank, burped, and nodded. "I really hope that's true. I like you, Leon. Nola too. I hope you can't do this, because it means there is good left in you. What we do, it is dark work. Ugly work. If you can't do it, it's because you are a good person." He looked at me with those big, expressive, thoughtful gold eyes, and frowned. "But I fear that you can_do this. You have done the worst of the work and you hated it, yes, but you didn't flinch. There is darkness in you. Can't escape it. In your blood, I think. Maybe if you can get away from this gods-cursed ship, you can find the light in you again. But so long as you're on the _Fang, you stand to lose your soul like the rest of us murderous sea dogs."

I stared at him for a few seconds, trying to figure out how to respond to that. I couldn't. He meant it, I could tell that much. I'm pretty good at reading people. He really thought I was toast and was sad about it. I just... I couldn't understand why he cared.

"Why don't you hate me?" I asked. He snorted and handed the bottle back. I took a long pull while he answered.

"Oh, don't know really," he drawled with a light accent I couldn't place. Not that I could really place any accents. "I just do. You are attractive, so I'm sure that factors in." He gave me a heavy-lidded gaze, and I felt my cheeks heat up. I worked very hard not to squeak.

"But I killed Thrasher."

He raised his eyebrows and said mildly, "And?"

I frowned. "And... he was your, uh... friend."

He pursed his lips again. They looked... really soft. I crossed my legs. "Friend is a funny word on a pirate ship. You don't have friends the same way you might elsewhere. You have crewmates, and you are loyal to them, and you have a captain, and you are loyal to her. You fight at their sides, and you work with them. Maybe you even fuck them, if he has a cock like a feral anaconda and a toned ass." My ears went absolutely ballistic. I'd never heard Itsuo be so vulgar before. It was... doing things.

He took the bottle from me and maybe his fingers brushed mine by accident. Or on purpose. Or... hhh... Shit. I was drunk.

He smiled at me and I swallowed audibly. "The point is," he continued, granting me a reprieve from my embarrassment, "these relationships are all... mercurial. We die out here. That is the nature of the ocean, and the life of a pirate ship. Anthros become pirates for many reasons, none of them cheerful. Regardless, it is not a life from which many retire. And other factors can change those relationships beyond just death. If Geist proved incompetent, she'd have a mutiny on her hands. The crew trusts their captain to lead them to victory, to lucre, to food and finery. If that trust becomes misplaced, the loyalty vanishes. And if you are in a fight with another ship, pirates or otherwise, you fight beside your crewmates, but no one here is interested in dying for someone else. You will fight alongside them, but you will not step in front of a blade or bullet for them. We are self-serving creatures."

"That sounds pretty lonely," I said. Although it might have been more along the lines of thassouns preddy lonlee. I was still getting used to booze, okay? Shit, _rum rations_got me tipsy. This stuff was absolutely wrecking me.

Itsuo smiled and leaned back on his barrel, fingerslaced behind his head. "It can be. You take company where you can find it, be it man or woman."

"Kinda surprised how many women there are on board, actually," I said. I don't know why I said it. It shouldn't have been surprising, really. Just seemed like, with all the macho posturing and aggression, it'd be more appealing to guys. But then again, as Itsuo had just said, nobody became a pirate because their lives were great.

Itsuo seemed to read my face and nodded. "Normally true. Plenty of navies still don't allow female sailors, nor pirate captains. The usual nonsense about the weaker sex. I think Annabelle, in particular, would have something to say to that." He chuckled. "Plusold superstitions about women being bad luck, blah blah blah. Geist being the captain probably has something to do with that not being so much of an issue on the Sea Fang. She is not superstitious, and as a woman herself, the idea of being 'weaker' is insulting. She is more interested in the skill of your sword arm than what residesbetween your legs." He glanced down at me and my left ear flicked rapidly, belying my heat. His gaze lingered for a moment before returning to my eyes.

"Even still, many pirates enjoy the company of men over women. Not because they make lesser lovers, of course. But not many women pirates overall, and night tea is hard to come by on the open seas. This is no life for cubs." He gave me a meaningful look, but I did my best to ignore it. Not like Nola and I had much choice at the moment.

Instead, I asked curiously, "Night tea?"

Itsuo cocked his head at me in mild surprise. "Common tea leaf that causes temporary infertility in women when imbibed regularly. It still amuses me the little things you don't know. It is... endearing." I swear to god he spread his legs a little when he said it. I noticed he was tenting.

I hadn't been with a man in a long time. Patrice had let me fool around with him a little twice during my time in the Spike, but my last real sexual partner had been Arthur, the sweet Equus boy who'd abandoned his bully friend to stand with me and got his ribs broken for his troubles. He'd tasted like heaven. I wondered how Itsuo tasted--I hadn't been with someone so significantly older than me before.

Had I? I... I couldn't remember, but something nudged at the back of my brain.

Well. Never that I could recall, at any rate. And here was Itsuo, presenting his tenting pantsto me. I couldn't help myself--I practically dove over the table to kiss him, groping frantically at his rope belt. He just kind of wrapped me up in his arms and returned the kiss with a slow, calm pace that drove me nuts. I needed him in me, and I needed it now, but he just held me, gently but firmly, kissing and stroking my back as I tried to grind myself against his leg. "Easy, boy," he whispered, and I squeaked in response. "Easy. Take it slow. Enjoy me."

I know what you're thinking. How could I even think about fucking when I'd just shredded a fellow Anthro to strips of skin and chunks of bone and guts? I wish I had an answer for you. Maybe it was a distraction. Maybe I was drunk and stupid. Maybe I was in love with Itsuo. Maybe it was none of those things. All I know is that in that moment, I desperately needed him.

He gently pulled me down to the floor, tugging loose myrope beltwith a smooth, practiced motion. I lay down on my back and let him take me however he wanted me. The first thing he wanted, apparently, was my cock in his mouth. He yanked my pants down to my ankles and took up my erection between his thick lips, tonguing my shaft expertly as his head bobbed up and down. Gods, he was good at this! He let his lips linger around the head as his wide, wet tongue slithered back and forth across the glans. I tried to buck my hips to push more of my length into his maw, but his powerful hands grabbed my hips and slammed them down, pinning me in place with a strength I didn't know the old Simian had. I tried to wriggle free and hump his mouth, but he was too strong. I was stuck in place, at his mercy. I grasped his ears gently and stroked his head.

"Please," I whispered, tears welling in my eyes. "Please."

Itsuo pulled off from me and clambered up my body, moving his powerful hands from my hips to my wrists with a speed I wouldn't have thought possible in someone his age had I not already seen him in action twice now. My cock was throbbing painfully as he brushed his lips against mine and whispered, "No."

He pulled my wrists together and held them above my head with one hand. I could have broken free of that grip easily--strong as he was, it was still two hands against one--but I left them there dutifully as Itsuo spat in his other hand and rubbed it vigorously against my anus. I relaxed my rectum in eager preparation for what was coming next. He took his free hand and easily lifted my butt and unbuttoned his pants, not even bothering to pull them down. His modest cock popped free, and he guided it into my ass with no hands. As soon as he touched my anus, he pushed hard.

I wailed once before biting down on my lip hard, letting another cry die in my mouth as the Simian roughly fucked me. He grunted and snarled, his veneer of calm vanishing in a primal lust for my younger body, his large, drooping balls slapping against my ass with each pump. I gyrated my hips to meet his ferocious thrusts, squeaking eagerly. He wasn't quite long enough to reach my prostate, and while he felt amazing in me, he hurt from not enough lube and he wasn't going to get me off. I pushed harder against his thrusts, hoping I could force another inch to magically appear in me to reach my button, but it wasn't happening. He still had my hands pinned so I wasn't going to be able to do it myself, either. Riding on the edge of an orgasm when I couldn't quite get there was a new experience, and it frustrated the Hells out of me.

I fucking loved it.

"I am going to cum in you, little boy," Ituso whispered in my ear, and my cock throbbed painfully. "I'm going to breed you like you bred your sister."

"Cum in me, old man," I growled back. "I want it all. Breed me. Breed me like Nola."

The old Simian bit his lip and shuddered, thrusting faster. He finally let go of my wrists and took my cock into his now-free hand and pumped me vigorously. It took no time at all for me to shoot several thick strands of cum into the air. It landed on my chest fur, on my forehead, and all over the floor. I moaned loudly as his thrusts stopped and his legs quivered, and I felt his hot, sticky load paint the inside of my guts. I wrapped my arms around him and held him close, licking his fur as I rubbed my hyper-sensitive cock against his stomach, clenching slightly with my ass to milk every last drop of him into me.

We lay on the floor, sticky and matted with sweat and my cum, holding each other. Itsuo didn't pull out of me, for which I was grateful. I felt the slow decline of his cock as it shrank and slid out of me, slippery and warm and blissful with each creeping inch. When he finally fell out, he rolled over to his side next to me, his face once more as placid and smooth as a pond on a breezeless day. "Thank you," I murmured.

Itsuo gave me a small smile. "Oh, believe me. It was my pleasure. I... hope this is not a one-time thing."

I shook my head, reaching down to gently caress his flaccid member. "You can have me whenever you want," I said, kissing him softly. I clenched my ass cheeks, feeling his load slide around inside me. Gods, when was the last time anyone was back there? I felt like_someone_ had been back there before, but I couldn't remember who.

The thought made my chest tighten. I remembered Nola's face when I'd asked her who Blake was. She'd refused to tell me, but it seemed like someone I'd known, someone I'd been with. But then, why couldn't I remember? Itsuo seemed to read something wrong on my face, because he cocked his head at me--quite a feat, considering it was currently propped up by his arm--and asked, "Having regrets?"

I shook my head vigorously. "Gods, no. That was amazing. I want more of that. I just... There are... things. Things I can't remember that I should, and I dunno why."

"Has it to do with your Gift?"

I frowned, shrugged. "I think so? It must, right?" I sighed. "I dunno."

"I have a suggestion," Itsuo said with a small smirk, "but you will not like it."

I raised my eyebrows inquisitively.

"Ask your mother," he said. "She knows more about your Gift than she lets on."

I frowned, absently stroking his belly fur as I considered what he was saying. Mom knew how my Sight worked? But why hadn't she spoken to me about it? She hardly ever said a word to me or Nola. I was pretty sure she hated us--what with the cold shoulder, and trying to murder our kittens before they were born, and all. I sighed and rolled onto my back. "Great. I'll bet that conversation will be just tops."

Itsuo leaned over me and kissed me again. "I could fuck you first, if that will help in any way."

I smirked at him and swatted his chest. "No, Itsuo, that will not help." I reached down to his soft cock and comparatively huge balls, fondling them contentedly. "Then again," I muttered, licking his neck fur and eliciting a small shudder from the Simian, "I guess it couldn't hurt, either."

He seemed to agree, because he rolled over on top of me and began rubbing his cock against mine, causing it to begin growing again. For an older man, he had a damned impressive refractory period. I squeaked softly into his chest fur, biting gently on his firm pectoral muscle as he humped against my cock with more vigor. I moaned into him, letting him use me as his masturbation tool. "Cum all over me," I whispered. "Make me your catch rag."

"Don't--unff," he started, a sudden grunt of pleasure cutting him off. "Don't worry little boy... I'll... hhh... I'll lick you clean... for when you see your mommy..."

I don't know why, precisely, but that statement sent an electric current through my spine and made my cock start to shudder. I was definitely going to cum again soon. Itsuo didn't seem to mind, frotting against me faster and more desperately. I held onto his thick neck and squeaked into his shoulder as my second orgasm built up to a crescendo. I pushed my dick hard against his and splattered sticky jizz all over both our chests. The extra lubrication seemed to do the trick for Itsuo, because he also came to a quivering halt as he spilled a second load all over us. He gave a few feeble thrusts against me as the last stream of him dripped out.

He didn't hesitate. As soon as he was done cumming, he slipped down to my stomach and lapped greedily at our mixed loads pooling up in my belly fur. I stroked his ears as he gathered up one thick mouthful at a time. He licked every inch of me clean, from my chest all the way down to my nuts, which he sucked vigorously. I was pretty sure nothing had landed on them, but I sure as Hells wasn't going to stop him. He finished by sucking hard and fast on my cock, with a lot of pressure and vigor. I didn't even get the chance to go soft. He didn't suck me to completion, however, just for a few moments. Enough to get me hard and horny again before stopping and coming back up to my face to lick my cheek fur. I slowly stroked myself as he cleaned my face and ears.

Finally he sat up, grabbed the bottle off our makeshift table, and took a long pull before offering it to me. I took a drink and grinned at him. "You have got to let me put that thing in my mouth."

Itsuo snorted. "I'm first mate, boy. I give the orders."

I batted my eyelashes at him. "May I suck your cock, Sir?"

Itsuo's calm demeanor shattered again, and he pinned me down once more. "Yes, boy," he growled. "You may."

For the first time since I inherited the position, I didn't mind being the bosun, the horrors of the morning far from my mind for a moment. Of all the people I could be under, I definitely liked being under Itsuo.