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Neptune's Blessing

By XP Author

_April 15, 1805.

Tomorrow I will be setting out to sea, and have come to the decision to document my thoughts along this journey. I have been hired by the East India Company to try and find some new trade imports from the southern section of the African continent. It will be the farthest abroad I have ever been from England._

I do not know why they decided to hire me for this expedition. I suspect it is my training in botany they are counting on, looking for new medicine, or possibly another source of tea or some alternative. Rumors abound about the troubles the company has been encountering in India of late. Between that, the trouble Napoleon is still causing in France, and the issues with this new 'United States of America' trying cut all ties, I suspect the company has started seeing more losses in money than they have been used to in a long time. But I am no economist or politician, so can only guess.

The ship I am to set sail on is HMS Wiseward. She is a cargo vessel, delivering some kind of goods at our destination. I have met the captain, one Alexander Davison. A surly old lion, to be sure. But he has helmed a ship for near 20 years, and sailed almost 20 more than that. So I am sure I am in capable hands. I have been assured that, as a representative of the company, I will be given some special treatment. For starters, my own private quarters aboard the vessel. I only hope the rest of the crew does not hold this too much against me. I have heard tales and rumors of sailors. I would hesitate to call any lower class, but I would hardly think most would have much more than a passing education at best.

As always,

• The honorable Maximilian Clavel

* * *

The port smelled of salt water, fish, and sweat. It was not the nicest combination of scents in the world, to be sure. However, this is where Max had to be if he was to start this journey. The ship in question was docked ahead of him. It was not a small vessel, large enough to haul vast amounts of cargo across the seas. The sails were furled at the top, rigging strung between the deck and the sails. Many able bodied sailors and dock workers were carting large loads of sacks or crates onto the ship, taking them to the hold for the journey.

Max found himself sticking out quite a bit in this place. A German shepherd, his fur was a mix of light tan, splotched with darker browns in along his back and tail. The fur on his face was much darker near the end of his muzzle. Neatly groomed hair tied into a short ponytail sat atop his head, slightly lighter than the tan of his fur. Between his groomed looks, pure bred status, and his tailored clothing in dark greens, he clearly did not belong among the working class sailors and dock workers. He did not feel himself above them, acknowledging the hard work each was clearly doing right now. He simply was from a different world than theirs, and it showed. Unfortunately for him, he would have to live in their world for the next several months.

The canine made his way towards the gangway. He was about to turn to walk up when a hand slammed against his chest, pushing him back. "Oy! Where do you think you're going?" Max looked up to see the hand and voice belonged to a tall, muscular canine. He could not tell the man's breed, seeming a mix of many. A true mutt. He had lighter fur, the color of wheat, but it was short and rough. His nose was pointed, but his ear round and drooping. He wore a loose shirt and brown pants tied at his waist by a leather belt. There were no markings on his shirt, and no hat with any insignia to let Max know if he was part of the crew or the dock staff.

Max cleared his throat. "Sorry, but I am to board that ship. It is the Wiseward, yes?"

The man just crossed his arms. "Oh really? Then I'm the king of Spain."

Max sighed softly to himself. This was to be expected. Many sailors were slow to trust anyone not also a seaman. "I speak the truth, sir. I have papers to prove it." He pulled a folded document out of his travel bag and held it out. The man just stared at him still, giving him more of a glare. "I can read it for you, if you prefer..."

The mutt narrowed his eyes. "Are you trying to say I'm too stupid to know how to read?"

Max held up his hands. "N-no! Nothing of the sort! I simply was offering-"

"OY! Two! Stop harassing the bloke and let him aboard!" Both men turned to look at the source of the new voice. The captain, Alexander, was standing at the railing. He pointed at Max. "You! Get your fancy pants on board. I'll show you your quarters."

The man, apparently named Two, looked back at Max. "Huh. Guess you weren't full of it after all." He took a step back out of the way. "I heard we'd be getting some high class ass on the ship this time." Max sighed to himself again. He was about to pass the man when a finger was jammed into his chest this time. "Just don't think you're getting a free ride here, new fish. You'll be expected to pull your weight as much as any other man on that ship. Just don't go cocking things up and sinking us."

Max nodded. "Of course. It will be a long journey, so I will have plenty of time to learn." He managed to finally slip past Two and walk up onto the ship itself. "Thoroughly unpleasant man." He voiced under his breath.

"Yeah, Two's a bit of an ass, but a damn good sailor, and a damn good first mate." Alexander spoke as the canine got to the top of the gangway. "Welcome aboard, Sir."

Max felt his blood run a little cold. "F-first mate!? You mean that brash individual is second in command on this vessel?"

The lion laughed at Max's clear apprehension. "Aye! Give ya a bit of a tip. If you want to get on his good side, get yourself and him piss drunk, then slug it out with him. He'll either kill ya, or be your best friend from then on. It's how I met 'im!"

Max frowned. "I'll... keep that in mind, Captain..."

Alexander slapped him on the back so hard, he nearly stumbled. "Don't worry too much. Now follow me, Sir. I'll show you to your quarters for this trip. It's not much, but it's got a desk for you to do all your fancy writing."

The canine nodded, following the lion. "Thank you, Captain. And please, call me Max. It will be a long enough journey. No need for formalities."

* * *

April 29, 1805.

It has only been two weeks since we have set sail from England, and already I miss it. I miss my garden, and conversation with my peers, most of all Rayaleh. She has a way with words that none on the Wiseward can hope to come close to. I also miss my own home. The quarters I have been put in are probably better than average crew quarters, but it is tight and cramped. I am afforded a bed that is too small, a desk barely large enough for a parchment, and a chair that creaks more than the boat I ride. The only benefit is that a single lantern lights most of the small space.

As for the crew of the Wiseward, I fear friendship may be out of the question for most cases. I am no sailor, and it is never more clear then when I must do my duties on deck. More than once, someone has had to explain just how I am tying a knot wrong. They have already stopped allowing me to touch any of the rigging for the sails. I had the unfortunate chance to be working on the deck when a particularly strong wind caught the sails in the wrong direction. I was physically thrown away when I did not react fast enough to deal with it. I fear the only job they will offer me now is cleaning.

The worst by far is the man known as 'Two.' His name is John Riggors, but got his alias from being the second son of a second son, and by being the second in command of this ship. The captain trusts him, and the crew follow his commands. He is a capable first mate, but his attitude towards me borders on hostile. I fear he has gotten the wrong impression of me. Though it may simply be that he dislikes those of a more educated nature. It would not be the first time I have seen this behavior from lessers. I only hope he does not make matters among the rest of the crew worse for me. It has already been made clear they will follow his lead.

At least not all hope is lost. I am not the only individual who is aboard this ship for the first time. There are two other new crewman, or 'new fish' as the crew refers to us. They are younger than the rest, but seem friendly enough to me. Henry Gavin is a rat, short and brown of fur. He comes from a family of sailors, but sought to join a crew not run by his family. Thomas Roshtal is an unusual fellow. A rabbit of black fur, he apparently comes from Canada. He remains closed lipped as to how he ended up in England, but he works hard and is eager to learn more. The two other 'new fish' are currently the only of the crew that seem to wish to speak more than barking orders or telling me what I am doing wrong.

Captain Davison is nice enough to me, but I think he is simply playing at his niceties. He does not want me here any more than Two, he is just better at masking it. For that, I am thankful. For now, I will take even a false smile over the mocking and brash, crude comments of the crew.

As always,

-The honorable Maximilian Clavel

* * *

Max grunted, pulling at the collar of his shirt. It fit poorly on him and clung to him. He had been told that, while doing duties on board the ship, he was to wear the clothing provided. He suspected it was a lie. Some part of a comedy ritual done to the 'new fish' aboard the vessel. The other two had likewise ill-fitting clothes, though theirs were simply far too big, left baggy and bunched up at the sleeves and waist. Considering his already lithe physique, the crew must have had to try quite hard to find a shirt too small for him to wear.

It was just over three weeks now he was on board, and the crew were making less attempts to make it perfectly clear they did not like him being around. This voyage could not end soon enough, and yet would last another month. If they were lucky, they may get a good tailwind the whole way and shorten the journey by up to two weeks. Unfortunately, such luck was unlikely. It was actually more likely they would sail into headwinds until after they passed the equator, slowing the journey further. To make matters worse, the Wiseward was an older craft, and as such slower than many other modern ships in her class.

The sound of a clattering bowl on the deck brought Max out of his thoughts. He looked to see one of the crew had dumped what was left of his meal onto the floor. "Hey, new fish. You missed a spot!" He and several others laughed around him. "C'mon, chop chop!"

The canine sighed, nudging his bucket of water closer to the new mess. "Right. I'll clean it." He dipped his mop into the water and started to wipe up the purposefully made mess. His previous fears had been proven correct. The crew no longer bothered trying to teach him the ins and outs of sailing, and he had been relegated to cleaning duties. Of course, they took every opportunity to make as big a mess as they could while around him. He bit his tongue every time, not wanting to make matters worse by saying the insults that came to mind. "That's right, fancy pants. Make that deck shine." Unfortunately, it seemed to have the opposite desired effect. It seemed most found him an even easier target due to his silence.

The door to the mess slammed open, and heavy foot falls followed. He sighed, knowing exactly who it was that entered. "Well, well! If it isn't the fancy pants himself." Max looked up to see Two, though he blinked several times to make sure he was not seeing things. The muscular canine was wearing what could only be described as a kind of half-robe around his middle, his upper half left completely bare.

Max leaned against his mop. "Good afternoon, Two." He nodded at the first mate. "Nice dress." Two was the only one of the crew he did not seem to mind talking back to. He already abandoned all hope of improving the attitude he was given by his fellow canine anyway.

Two sneered at him. "I guess you would be the kind of fop that might be interested more in women's fashion than men's."

He smirked at the first mate. "Well, a gentleman should know good fashion for both men and ladies. But then, you know little of ladies outside of bar wenches and brothel whores, I suspect." The men around him let out a chuckle, though they were silenced be a glare from Two.

That glare was then pointed at him. "Big talk coming from a little fish. Did you suddenly grow a pair, or are you borrowing them from the fellow you left back home?" This got more laughs. "No... that's probably not right either. See, I got to thinking about you, fancy pants."

Max interrupted. "Not dressed like that, I hope."

Two stepped forward, practically pressing his nose against the other canine's. "See, I think you might be even more pathetic than I thought. Which I'll admit is a pretty big accomplishment. I think you don't know the touch of a woman or a man in your bed. Save maybe yourself." He sniffed at Max. "Mmm... no. Maybe you do. Didn't pick up the scent at first. No, I think you just might know someone. Kids, probably. Little school boys going to your fancy university. Is that it? You like the young boys? The kids that want to impress their professor and willing to suck your cock for it?"

Max grit his teeth. "I am no professor, John." He said the man's real name as if it were a curse. "And the one I would choose to enter my bed would only be someone on an equal level with me." He smirked. "So I'm afraid you're out of luck."

Two bared his teeth, but took a step back. "So you do still hold your virginity. How very gentlemanly of you." He walked around Max, heading to the mess' counter. He took hold of the pot that had soup in it, dumping it over onto the deck. Max just closed his eyes as he heard the contents spilling on the floor. "You missed a spot, fancy pants. It better be spotless when I come back." Two turned and left, the crew following with him.

The canine let out a heavy sigh, leaning hard against the mop. His legs felt weak under him. He despised confrontation, and having to deal with Two was exhausting to the extreme. "Don't let him get to you so much." He looked up and over at the source of the voice. Thomas stood behind the counter, wiping it off with a wet rag. "You'll only make things worse." He smiled a little. "That was a pretty good one at the end, though."

Max smiled back at his fellow 'new fish.' He kicked the bucket closer to the large mess on the floor and started to work at containing it before it spread further. "Thanks. Sorry your hard work got spilled because of me."

The rabbit shook his head. "Hey, I'm just helping out back here. I chop stuff up and carry the heavy things. You think they'd let me cook on my own?"

The canine nodded a little. "Yes, they don't seem to be big on the whole respect concept."

Thomas chuckled. "Gotta earn it." He came around the counter and set down a fresh bucket of water. "Here. You'll probably need this." He then bent over and picked up the dumped pot, carrying it back around the counter.

"Thanks." Max shook his head, dunking his mop into the fresh water. "I don't think I'll ever earn respect with Two. Thankfully, I won't be on this ship for more than a few more weeks. Then I never have to see his spiteful muzzle again." The rabbit just shrugged and went back to his duties. After a few minutes of silence, he had to speak up again. "Hey, Thomas? Do you have any idea what that dress thing was about?"

The rabbit looked up. "Ah... kind of. Henry warned me about it. Some thing to do with a crossing ceremony." The dog quirked an eyebrow in curiosity, but waited for the man to elaborate. "Some tradition on ships. When someone crosses the equator for the first time, they do a ceremony. Henry said it's something to do with Neptune, old Greek god of the sea or something."

"Roman." He corrected. Thomas looked up, puzzled. "Neptune was the Roman god of the sea. The Greek was Poseidon."

Thomas shrugged. "I don't know about any of that stuff, so I'll take you're word for it." He looked back down as he continued his work. "Anyway, apparently some of the sailors dress up as this Neptune and have this ceremony. Granting the blessings of the sea upon the travelers or something. I dunno."

He sighed heavily, already dreading what the response to his question would be before he even asked it. "And just what does this ceremony entail?"

Thomas shrugged again. "Dunno. Henry said he didn't know either when I asked. Each crew is different. Some of 'em just make some speech or something, others make the new guys eat a raw fish, some just kinda walk around dressed up for a few days."

Max shook his head. "I hate to say, but we will just have to wait and find out." He dunked his mop again. "My only solace is that if Two is dressing up like some old deity, it means we're close to the equator." And that much closer to him getting off of this wretched ship once and for all.

* * *

_May 13, 1805.

To my dear friend Rayaleh,_

I have spent near a month on this ship now. To say my experience has been unpleasant would be an understatement of the highest order. I think I might prefer to be sent to France to fight at the side of Napoleon himself if given the choice. The crew are a pigheaded bunch, more akin to a gang of street ruffians. And their leader goes by Two. He is the first mate on the ship, if you believe it, but acts as if he is little more than a common thug. The crew follow him in all things, and I dare say, he has turned all but a few against me entirely.

I do not fear for my life or safety, of course. The Captain has given near free reign to Two, but none have done more than feigning accidental bumps and shoves as they pass. I think doing harm to someone that is supposed to be a guest aboard the ship is a step too far for the good Captain. But that has not stopped them from belittling me at every chance. I will spare you the details of such petty behavior, of course. It all only proves to me that, save a scant few, this crew is little more than a group of low class ingrates. Some even show signs of clear mental deficiencies.

This journey cannot end soon enough for me, my friend. Though you may take comfort in knowing, by the time you read this letter, I will have disembarked in Africa many weeks ago. To think, I thought the prospect of spending time in the sweltering heat of the jungle was the worst I would endure on this expedition, and yet now I look forward to it as a welcome respite.

I will write again once I arrive, dear Rayaleh. If my luck finally turns, perhaps I will even give news of a new discovery. I am eager to get back to my true work.

Yours faithfully,

-The honorable Maximilian Clavel

* * *

Max sighed, leaning back in his chair as he finished penning his letter. He closed his eyes, letting the thought of his dear cheetah friend play through his mind. He envisioned her reaction upon receiving the letter, how she may take the news of his hardships thus far. In his mind, she was far more open with her feelings for him than she truly was. Only a month, and he missed her companionship dearly. Hers more than any others.

"Writing a love letter to your boyfriend back home?" He was jarred from his thoughts by the abrasive voice at his doorway. He turned to look, finding Two leaning against the frame. "Afraid the little boy has found another man to take your place?" Two still wore the half-robe, but the outfit had grown more elaborate over the past week. A belt of woven fishing wire tied at his waist, a sash of red cloth draped over his right shoulder, and a crown of what looked to be dried seaweed sat atop his short, messy hair. His newest addition was an honest to goodness trident. Where the man had gotten a trident was beyond him.

Max frowned as he turned more fully towards him. "Two, these are my private quarters. Get out."

Two shook his head. "No can do, fancy pants. You're needed on deck."

The canine sighed heavily. "Why? My shift duties just ended. I'm very tired, and honestly, I do not have the energy to deal with you right now. So get out of my quarters."

The fair-furred dog gave him a wicked smile. "See, that's the thing, new fish..." He stepped further inside. "You don't get to give me orders. And this isn't a suggestion. Get your skinny ass out on deck, or I'll drag you out myself."

Max just closed his eyes, shaking his head. "Fine." he stood, reaching for a shirt to cover his torso. He flinched his hand away when the tines of the trident smacked where the shirt lay.

Two's smirk turned almost malicious. "You won't need that. Now get moving." The canine figured he was at least lucky that Two wasn't jabbing him with the weapon.

When he got to the deck, Max saw nearly all of the grew was gathered. The sails were furled up, the ship more coasting on the current than sailing at any speed. Many of the crew were dressed up like Neptune, though none were nearly as elaborate as Two's costume. Henry and Thomas stood in the middle of the crowd, looking apprehensive. This must be the crossing ceremony he was warned about. It meant they were very close to the equator. Or had just passed it. The canine looked around, but did not see the captain in the crowd. He was probably staying in his own quarters, to let the crew have their little fun.

The crew suddenly burst into laughter and cheers. The three in the center turned to see Two coming, lead by two other crew members. The two crew members were horses, with their fur painted blue and adorned in more dried seaweed. Max was surprised that any on the crew were educated enough to even know about the water-horses that supposedly pulled Neptune's chariot in the sea. Though that was more of a thing for Poseidon.

Two held up his hands, raising his trident above his head. The crowd grew quiet. Two's voice was loud, and he put on a dramatic tone. "We have gathered here to bestow Neptune's blessing upon the new fish for their first time crossing the center of the world!" The crew gave a short shout. The trident was pointed at the three in the center. "You three! Lay on your stomachs on the deck!"

Max frowned, even as the other two got down onto their bellies. "Why?" The crowd shouted at him in disdain.

"There is no talking from the new fish unless spoken to!" Two pointed at the deck. "Now do as Neptune commands!"

Max rolled his eyes, muttering under his breath. "Fine. Let's just get this over with." He got down onto the deck, his bare chest pressed to the damp wood.

Two smiled, nodding to someone. The next thing any of the three on the deck knew, they had their hands tied behind their backs. "Strip them."

"WHAT!?" Hands started to pull at the pants and shirts of those tied down. Max tried to struggle, a pair of hands holding him down, while another two ripped his pants down his legs, his undergarments following a moment later. "What the bloody hell!?" He kept his tail low to try and keep himself covered.

Two shouted. "SILENCE!" He looked to one of the crew. "Gag him." The next thing the dog knew, there was a wadded up cloth shoved into his mouth and tied behind his head. "Good. You are so much more tolerable when you are silenced, fop." The crew laughed. "Now string these sods up like the fish they are!" The three on deck had loops of rope tied around their ankles, and a moment later were being hauled up by the ship's rigging, dangling upside down and buck naked for all to see. The crowd laughed as each man showed their embarrassment at the exposure.

Thomas, being a rabbit, could do nothing to hide himself, his cock dangling freely in plain view. Henry was somewhat able to hide himself, but as a rat, his tail had no fur to cover much. Max was actually the best at this, his fluffy tail lodged between his legs and hooked forward to hide as much of himself as he could. He was not ashamed of himself exactly, sitting at a modest 5 and a half inches in length, but he was not the type to go waving it about in front of others. Thankfully, it was also hidden within a sheath upon him, giving little to see save his balls.

Two laughed as he pointed at Max. "Well, would you look at that. The fancy pants does have balls after all. Here I thought you'd had them cut off at some point." He just grunted into his gag, though his embarrassment was clear as day. Two then held his hand out, and several pieces of paper were handed to him. Max's eyes went wide when he saw his journal was also handed over. He started to struggle, but went ignored by everyone.

"We on the Wiseward do not like to hold secrets from each other. We are brothers on the sea." He held up the papers. "So we will now read from the letters you have all written, so all can know your thoughts. So commands Neptune!" He walked in front of Henry, pulling out one of the letters. "Let's see here. 'Dearest mother.' Oh, the fish misses his mother?" The crowd laughed. "Let's see. 'I have been on board for-' blah blah blah. 'Got to work the sails for the first time. Father never told me how much running was involved on a ship.' Don't like to run?" Henry remained quiet.

Two flipped to a different letter, finding the first one boring. "Oh, this should be good. 'There are two other new men on the ship. Thomas is a black rabbit from Canada. Quiet but a hard worker. The other is a special guest on the ship named Max. He also does not talk much, and clearly does not like being on this ship.' Guess Henry wasn't a fan of you. 'He clearly has no talent for sailing. He cannot tie a proper not to save his life, has a poor sense of direction, and has come down with seasickness many times in just the first week of sailing alone.' Even the new fish know you're not fit for sailing!"

As the crew laughed, Henry looked at Max. "Sorry..." The canine just shook his head. He never pretended to be a sailor, and the words, while a little harsh, were not exactly untrue. Even if they stung a little.

"No need to feel sorry. It's the truth!" Two bumped his elbow against Henry's gut, making the rat sway a little. "You've even got more balls than he does." It was true. The rat was slightly larger than the canine.

Two then turned his attention to Thomas. "You. Now you, little bunny. You have no letters. Why not? Got no one worth writing to?"

Thomas shook his head, making his dangling ears sway under him. "No. I don't."

Two scoffed. "Why not? Gonna give us a sob story about how your parents were killed in a war in CANADA!?" He jammed his elbow into Thomas' gut this time, making the rat sway. "You do a bad job hiding your accent. Where are you really from?"

The rabbit shook his head. "I told you, I'm from Canada. I came to England to sail with a real fl-OUGH!" The wind was knocked from him as Two hit him harder this time.

"The truth, fish. Or I feed you to the sharks. You're no more Canadian than I am Chinese!"

Thomas grit his teeth. "Fine. You want the truth? I'm not from Canada. I'm from Tennessee. I just got here from Canada."

The crew laughed as Two chuckled. "Oh, an American? And why did you leave? Don't give me that crock about wanting to sail proper ships!"

Thomas clenched his jaw. "I did want to sail proper ships!" When Two pulled back his fist, the rabbit blurted out. "We were running away!"

"From what?"

Thomas squeezed his eyes closed. "From slavery!" All laughter on the deck stopped at once, and an uncomfortable silence hanging over the crowd. "My family were slaves. We escaped to Canada. They only had enough money to send me to England to try and get a better life."

Two knelt down, reaching out to pat the rabbit on the cheek gently. "See. You should have just said that from the start. Don't worry, little fishy. We won't send ya back." Thomas sighed heavily. "You'll still have to dangle here for a bit, though." He stood back up again. "Though speaking of hung!" He pointed at the bunny's rather impressive cock. The crowd laughed and even cheered a little for him.

Two finally turned his full attention to Max. "Now. Now we come to you, fancy pants." He flipped open the journal. "You really are quite the little shit. 'I have heard tales and rumors of sailors. I would hesitate to call any lower class, but I would hardly think most would have much more than a passing education at best.' The boy thinks we're all a bunch of idiots!" The crew shouted obscenities at him. "He has more! Speaks of me by name! 'It may simply be that he dislikes those of a more educated nature. It would not be the first time I have seen this behavior from lessers.' You think yourself better than me? Than all of us!?" Max just glared, unable to reply with the gag in his mouth.

Two prodded him in the belly. "Listen here and listen good, you little shit. I don't like you. No one on this ship does. Not the captain, not the new fish, no one! You are an annoying, egotistical little shit that thinks because you are here on a contract you deserve special treatment." He prodded the canine again. "You are a failure, plain and simple. You fail at tying even the simplest of knots, not just because of your ineptitude, but because you simply refuse to learn! You cannot cook, cannot navigate, and you even somehow manage to fuck up cleaning! I'm honestly surprised you haven't ended up shitting yourself at some point."

As Two stepped back, the crowd was roaring with laughter at the dangling dog. Max closed his eyes shut, praying that this whole farce of a 'ceremony' would end soon. "'To my dear friend Rayaleh." His eyes snapped open as Two started reading the letter. "What the fuck kind of name is 'Rayaleh?' Some kind of foreigner?" Max just glared at her. "Well, from one of his other entries, apparently this 'dear friend' is the closest thing our fancy pants has to a lady friend. Though by how formal you always are, I bet you haven't seen any of her in private, have you?" The laughter started up again. "Guess we can officially rule out the little boys. You're just a virgin. And at your age. You really are just that pathetic. Pining after a woman who wants nothing to do with you?" Max squeezed his eyes shut again.

Two continued reading. "'To say my experience has been unpleasant would be an understatement of the highest order.' Aww, he's been having a rough time!" Two chuckled. "'The crew are a pigheaded bunch, more akin to a gang of street ruffians. And their leader goes by Two. He is the first mate on the ship, if you believe it, but acts as if he is little more than a common thug.' You hear that, boys? We're street ruffians and I'm a common thug!" The crew booed at him. "If I was just a common thug, then I would do this more often." He suddenly slammed his fist into Max's gut, making the canine flinch and sway.

Two held a hand up. "Oh, but the 'honorable Maximilian Clavel' goes on! 'this crew is little more than a group of low class ingrates. Some even show signs of clear mental deficiencies.' Mental deficiencies!? He thinks we're all touched in the head!" The crew was standing and shouting at the dangling canine now. Max had written before that he had not feared for his life. That now proved false, fearing the crew was about to descent upon him like savages after reading what was supposed to be private writings.

Two looked at one of the crew. "Drop him." Max suddenly felt momentarily weightless as the rope at his ankles was put slack. He crashed to the deck all at once, laying on his stomach and curled up. He found himself shaking, having little to do with his state of dress at the moment. He expected a flurry of kicks to rain down at him at any moment. "Pick this coward up of the floor." Several sets of hands grabbed him by the arms and dragged him to his feet. "Open your eyes, you piece of shit." Two's voice was frighteningly cold and calm, and the dog felt compelled to obey the command.

Two stepped forward. "You are the most fowl piece of filth I've ever had the displeasure to have on my ship before." He grinned wide, baring his teeth. "But I won't have to deal with you for long." He snapped as he stepped back. "String this fucking trash up proper." Max's eyes went wide. He struggled against those that held him as a the rope that had bound his ankles before was brought over his head. The next moment, it snapped tight around his throat. He was dragged a foot into the air, feet kicking about under him.

The crew all backed off, cheering as they watched the man hang. Max flailed in the air, swaying wildly from his struggles as the rope bit into his neck tight, cutting off his air. He squeezed his eyes closed, praying to God that this was just some elaborate practical joke gone too far. That it was just the tactic of thugs to make him afraid. He was afraid. His heart raced in his chest, thumping against his ribs as if trying to shatter them and spring free to escape. The sound of the crowd was drowned out by the blood rushing through his ears. His lungs ached with burning desire for just one more breath.

The moment stretched on, and he was not lowered. His eyes snapped open wide as his mind started to cloud over. He stared at Two, saw the wicked grin on the man's face. He was not going to let him down. This was no joke. They meant to leave him to hang like a common criminal. His struggles grew more intense, kicking, squirming, flailing, pulling at the bindings keeping his arms behind him. Anything he could do to get free, but all to no avail.

"I think he's getting off on it." The voice of someone barely registered to him, too fixated on trying to somehow get free. He had indeed started to grow hard, though not from any pleasure on his part. Adrenaline surged through his body, blood pumping as hard as it could to every aspect it could reach, desperately trying to feed a rapidly dwindling supply of oxygen to everything that needed it. His vision grew as clouded as his mind, great blots of blackness wafting before him like billows of smoke no light could penetrate.

For near two minutes he kicked and swung about by the rope, the crowd cheering and jeering the whole show. The canine's struggles grew more intense once more, but rapidly slowed after that. His consciousness fled him at that time, leaving his body to pure instinct. Even that left him. With a final shudder through his body, he grew still. His tail twitched once, then hung limp with the rest. The crowd let out a renewed cheer as the dance ended. With it, so ended the life of the honorable Maximilian Clavel.

Two snapped his fingers again. "Drop him." A moment later, Max's body came crashing to the deck once more. This time, he lay motionless, staring ahead at nothing with glassy, lifeless eyes. Two pointed at the others. "Lower them, too. Slower, though." The other two naked men were more lowered more gently onto the deck. Both stared at the dead body laying nearby, glancing at Two every so often with apprehension. "Don't worry, new fishies. You won't end up like this lump of meat."

Henry and Thomas had their hands unbound, the rope removed from their ankles as well. Two spoke again. "Do have one more task for you, though. One last initiation to get the final blessing of Neptune."

Henry looked up at the man. "What?"

Two gave them a wicked, toothy smile. He pointed the trident at the dead body. "Fuck him."

Henry flinched. "Wh-what!? But... he's..."

Thomas stood up, rolling his shoulders a little. "You want his ass, or his mouth?" He reached down to stroke his large cock, bringing the thing to life.

Henry looked between the rabbit and the canine dressed as a god. "You can't be serious?" Others in the crew were also pulling out their cocks, stroking themselves already in anticipation of the show. It had been some time for many of them since they had relieved stress in any way.

Two grunted at the rat, giving him a stern look. "Either you fuck this meat, or I fuck you. And I won't be gentle. So which is it, fish?"

Henry swallowed, but nodded. "O-okay then..." He stood up slowly.

Thomas thumped the rat's chest with a hand. "Don't worry. I'll take his ass. You can fuck his mouth and pretend it's some girl back home." He chuckled, as did several more of the crew around him, already liking the rabbit's more open attitude. He was clearly more relaxed to be himself around them, now that his big secret was already out. The black rabbit's cock was nearly at full mast by the time he got beside Max's body, standing at just over seven inches. He reached down to grab the dog's tail, lifting his bare rear up by that. He looked up at Two. "You care how long it takes?"

Two sat down with the rest of the crew, his own cock out and proud. "Nah. Just go until you fill him." Two was not stroking himself like most of the crew, but he had a way to relieve his stress they didn't. He just wanted to see the show.

Henry gently lifted the dead canine's head up, slipping the noose off of his neck. He could see the wide, scared, pain look in those blank eyes and sighed. He spoke softly to the dead man. "Sorry, buddy." He looked up at Thomas, who shrugged but didn't say anything. The rat closed his eyes then, sliding his cock into the slack mouth in front of him. A shudder ran though him, his thick tail thumping on the deck as he felt the cooling tongue run against his stiffening shaft. It was an unusual feeling to be sure.

Thomas was much less hesitant, pressing the tip of his cock against the tight hole and pushing forward. He grunted, having to switch his grip from just the tail to instead holding the dog's hips. "Fuck, this bugger is tight." The crew laughed and cheered the pair on. The rabbit felt the hole start to spread around him, allowing him to slowly slip himself inside. With no resistance other than natural tightness, he was able to push the first few inches in. The canine's insides were still warm, but noticeably cooler than they would be if he was still breathing.

Henry closed his eyes as he also started to thrust himself forward. He grabbed the small ears of the dead man, using them to hold his head in place while he slid his now fully stiff cock deeper, until his tip touched the throat. The mouth was already much cooler than it would be alive, but he found he was able to shove a little down the man's crushed throat. The fact that it had been crushed did not seem to change much, but it was quite a tight feeling around him.

Thomas was getting into it far more than his rodent companion. He thrust himself forward to bury himself more and more into the tight confines of the canine's ass. He had to pull back a few times, thrusting deeper each time, until finally he was able to press himself fully inside. He wasted little time in allowing the hole to adjust to his size, as he need not worry about the man's comfort. Instead he started with a hard, slow pace, slapping his hips against the canine's ass.

Now that Max was dead, his heart no longer pumping blood, his cock had deflated once from its state upon his death. It had not retreated into his sheath, however, and it, along with his balls, dangled and swayed under him as the rabbit pounded into his ass. The rabbit's black furred sack slapping against the canine's dark brown every time he hit deep. Thomas grunted as he fucked the dead ass, his cock pulsing within him. He was clearly getting into this.

Henry was also starting to get into this, much to his surprise and partial disgust. However, the rat had not fucked anything in months, even before the journey started. He was pent up and in desperate need of some kind of release. It showed in how he was panting, his hips thrusting hard against the head in his hands. Again and again, the canine's face was jammed against his crotch as he slammed himself deep into the mouth and throat, his balls smacking against the chin. The limp tongue running along his hot shaft was driving him onward.

The rat was the first to let out a loud cry, to the cheers of the crowd around him. He thrust himself as deep as he could and came hard, blasting his cum down the canine's throat. Much of it also filled the mouth, drooling out around his cock and dribbling to the deck. A few of the crew came near the same time, shooting their own loads onto the deck, to the mocking laughs of others for not lasting longer. Henry pulled out, falling back onto his ass and panting. His cock twitched between his legs, still drooling the last of his orgasm. The canine's head was left to rest on the deck, mouth open and drooling cum as well.

Thomas lasted longer, pounding hard and fast into the tight ass. The crew chanted 'cum' over and over as the rabbit clearly drew closer. Finally, he threw his head back and shoved his hips forward, releasing his own load deep into Max's cooling insides. He came hard, shot after shot pouring into the still tight tunnel around him. When he pulled himself out, a line of cum followed after him, drooling down the canine's balls and leg. Thomas dropped the man, stroking his cock to force out a few more little spurts of cum, which landed upon the dark fur of the dead man's ass.

Two laughed and clapped, cheering with the rest of the crew. He stood up and spoke. "Good job! I hereby bestow upon you the blessing of Neptune. You are no longer new fish! Welcome to the crew!" The crew cheered again, many more having cum when Thomas did. More stood and finished themselves off on the dead body, blasting more cum into his fur. By the time the crew was told to get back to their jobs, the body was covered in the seed of a dozen different men, soaked into the fur and hair.

Two pat the shoulders of the two newest crew members. "Thomas, Henry. I have one more job for you two. Then you can take the rest of the day off."

Henry looked at the first officer. "What is it?" He was apprehensive still, but less now that the ceremony was done.

Two grinned wide. "Slit the meat's throat to let it bleed, then toss it into the ocean. It'll draw the sharks." He pat the two of them on the shoulder and walked off. "Just try not to get much on the deck."

* * *

"Such a shame he didn't make it." The captain spoke, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "Ah well. At least the crew had a good time."

Two smiled. "That they did, Sir."

The captain turned around to look at his first officer. "John, we're alone. You can stop calling me sir."

Two sat up a little in the bed. "Ah you know, old habits."

The captain shook his head, moving to sit down beside his first mate and lover. "If you say so." He felt a pair of hands slide around his bare belly. "So, you want to hear the 'official' log for how we lost our 'honorable' guest?"

Two nodded, resting his head against the lion's shoulder. "Sure. I'll pass the story on to the rest of the men so if anyone asks, they know what to say."

The captain nodded, leaning back into the hold and began to recite what he had written.

* * *

Captain's Log: May 14, 1805.

We hit a bit of rough waters today, just as we were crossing the equator. Tail end of some storm that had passed through the region. High winds came in fast, so all hands had to get on deck to get the sails up. Unfortunately, our special guest, Maximilian Clavel, once more proved he was not meant to be a sailor. While he was out with the crew, a wave crested over the deck and swept him off his feet. Before anyone could react, he was washed off the ship.

I regret to say, no one saw him after that. Probably got dragged down by a powerful undercurrent in the waves. Thankfully, no one else was lost in the storm.

On a positive note, our two newest members, Henry and Thomas, are now officially members of the crew. The other crew are getting along with them quite well. Seems our rabbit has a bit of a tale to tell from his past. He requested I not mention it in my logs, as there is some questionable legality to it. I will respect his wishes, and welcome him onto the crew with open arms. Henry has also proven himself to be a pretty good cook, and the chef, Doc, has requested he be stationed in the kitchens from now on. We officially have a rat in our kitchen now.

Now that we have hit the southern currents, we are estimated to arrive at our destination in about two weeks time. I'm sure it will be smooth sailing from now on. The unfortunate loss of the honorable Maximilian Clavel is a tragedy, but at least the cargo will arrive safely.

* * *