FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Awakening, Part 9

With thanks to Arthur "Aethan" French, who invented Captain Fang, Haliday Dasker and planet Halivar in his charming cabin-boy/space-pirate story, "A Treasure, Freely Given." My captain, corsairs, and cadet came out a bit differently, to suit my own tale, but appear here with their creator's kind permission.

Vargyr Starcruiser Gvadakoungg, Space

INQTJESZ47XD6DNOAIN87YY37JFC83S6OAINQFBA9KY5X3XU8OAINEPELT2CFY8FVQOAINTPRNDDPNM9EKDOAIN3

NZWWJJKRH8KLOAINUKCK9S8D8LK8AOAIN87HMZD3547YBGOAINKPB6HGJ7VZMU9OAINBBFSX39XAHSH8OAIND6

KX7CSGSL7EXOAINBAL5BFWT8ZWCKOAINQT3FFEXG872Q4OAINBJGTPMSRGGCQGOAIN543ATF2245UZFOAINETL

55RNGXKQ6SOAINGA4U2RKGPYUEXOAIN9QXJTJD3FJRUUOAINBBDSJRAGBAANSOA...

***

/// ACCESS INTERRUPT

// DATASEC OVERRIDE

// AUTH#898A8A IS-8

// ENCRYPT CANCELLED

// BLOCK AA-23 ///

***

"Seems that did the trick, Hali. I'll lay some code that will prevent that kind of black-slicing again. Looks like you're back in business." The Scout data-analyst fit the multihead tool back onto his harness and gave me a friendly grin.

"Thank you, sir." I took my reader/scriber tablet back, slid it closed, and slotted it to my belt.

"You want to thank me, visit us on Seeker, sometime. Iawrrl and the boys would be happy to see you." He was handsome, in a rough way, and noticed me noticing the fit of his trunks with a wink to me and a squeeze to himself there.

"Name's Langrr, in case you forgot. I'll give Dani and Tobi something to remember you by, until you get a chance to give them something yourself." He indicated the four flecs of my earlier adventures stowed in his harness ports, waved, and was gone.

* * *

My name is Halliday Dasker, crewman and Captain's Mate on the Vargyr Starcruiser Gvadakoungg. Someone or something didn't care for the tales I'd been telling, but with expert assistance from a code slicer who knows a lot about that kind of thing, these transmissions ought to be available again anywhere they haven't been. A lot has happened, since the last night I told about, but I suppose the best place to start would be the next morning.

As I came awake on the round, plush comform bed in my quarters, the first thing I noticed was not the pervasive, musky, male scent of thick Vargyr cum, which I had become used to as I had been completely soaked in it the whole time I had been asleep, but that my quarters had been redecorated. The second was that I had overslept half a watch, and my mandated ship safety and Scout curricular work had been registering no activity for my initial half-hour.

I sat up, felt about for the modesty panel of my currently open-at-the-groin trousers, found one, used it to wipe up anything the comform plush bed hadn't soaked up already, and fastened it, back to front. Somewhere along the way, I realized it wasn't mine (which is modified, for medical reasons) but Yrrvng's. So I'd smell like him a little. I didn't mind, but I did blush. Then I realized he'd be wearing mine. Boy, was he in for a surprise.

I started in on my coursework right away, so I didn't get to actually look at the new holos properly for a while, but they were continually at the edge of my vision and, more, had also attracted idle Vargyr art enthusiasts to loiter around where the door to my quarters would have been, if I'd had one. I didn't.

I did have two floor to ceiling panels, framing (or maybe defining) the entrance. These had initially shown vine trees, waterfalls, and other stock footage of Halivarr's tropics. I hadn't lived there, and didn't miss them. Now, they were instead life-size holoportraits of me, posed by the Records Officer with a spotter-squadron flight leader named Srringarr, shown from the shoulders down, with just enough muzzle intruding that the viewer would understand that he could smell what they see.

In one, I was nuzzling his sheathed knot through his front panel while he teased my ear. In the other, his paw splayed possesively across my backside, my tail twining his arm as he plied a finger-pad through my rear panel to make me squirm. Both were artistcally lighted to draw out every curve of my small, male build, showing a seamless loop of suggestive, responsive motion.

They were both also labelled, in lettering so low-contrast and of such large size that it was hard to see, especially if you were actually looking at the holo image itself. But in columnar, big, block, capital letters that Vargyr use when they mean business, the first read "SUCK HOLE" and the second "FUCK HOLE", somehow more apparent out of the corner of my eye than looked at, head-on.

The three across the back were of me, alone, provocatively posed on my bed and looking lonesome. Those were labeled horizontally across the images, but no easier to tease from the background visually. They read "KNOT", "CUM", and "OBEY".

I was late, flustered, hungry (Ship Systems insisted I have a nutritive broth as a hot breakfast. I accepted a cup of starfruit juice. I declined a cup of caff), and flubbing my studies under the eye of the gawkers in the hall, who I could hear but not see. They had a view of me perched on a saddle-seat, from the back. I know because one sidescreen of the vidifax was for some reason giving me a view in from the passage way - live feed from a security cam outside the C-Deck Canteen.

"Fuck, that's pretty," observed one crewman as I scooted my bottom around, trying to untangle an encryption algorithm.

"But, boy, that's dumb," said the big Varg he was leaning against, as the penalty buzzer signaled another wrong answer. They laughed.

I'd been a really strong student, but not for months. My new life on the Gvadakoungg was unsettling and exciting, and it was difficult to establish a routine, or hit my stride. I had yet to end a session above the Satisfactory bracket, and was starting to have sessions below it, which put me off-balance further.

Hecklers were new, with the holos. They didn't sound mean, and plainly meant fun. But it did make the coursework harder. I finished comms systems with an amber grade shading to orange, and had started in on ship safety protocol and procedure when I heard another murmur from the passageway.

"Aw, look who it is!" said one spectator. "This'll be good," said another, and a warm, lean, damp body was pressing against my back to straddle the saddle-seat behind me, a muzzle slipping up to whuffle my neck with a lick. Yrrvng snugged up to the base of my tail and asked shyly, hopefully, whether I were too busy to take a break.

"Aw, I want to, but I got a late start today and I really shouldn't." He had slipped his arms around me and one hand found mine where it had a protective position over and around my semi-hard cock.

"You said whenever I like, though. I have half a watch, now." He smelled of E-Deck's relief room, and he was hard where he slow-humped my tail.

"I'm way behind - these marks. I wish I could, Yrrv, really." My wrist unit pinged as I got worked up, and gave me a soother. I no longer really noticed the texture and flavor as it took the edge off of my panic.

"You say no, but he says yes..." Yrrvng teased me hard behind my front panel. "The program will wait. It'll just figure you're thinking extra hard about your next guess."

I found myself leaning in, letting myself be drawn back into his lap with him scenting my neck and rocking me by his half-grip on my cock to squirm my cleft back along his. He pulled me up off the seat, and fell back onto my bed, which still smelled noticeably of me and him, as well as of his older, more assertive crewmates from the night before.

He rolled on top of me, slipping up between my legs to pin down my hips with his own, and I let him. "My grades were never anything, Hali, but here I am." There he was, indeed - arguably, my best friend, just when I was feeling down. And if I were honest, I really did want to play. But I made a last objection, even as my hips arched to slide my panel-trapped arousal against his.

"But I'm scoring so low already..." He teased away from my teasing, and scooted up to bring his panel right up over my face, and I gave up my last protest to nuzzle him, slowly, intently, through the nearly sheer fabric.

"You're my friend, Hali, whether you're smart or not," Yrrvng replied, trying his best to be supportive. "Anyway, everyone on crew is saying how it's super cute that you're kind of dumb." As he shifted around again to get his own muzzle down between my legs he paused to nuzzle and half growl confidentially into my ear, "It makes them feel all big and bossy, and hot to knot."

Without me being all that sure who had removed whose, both our modesty panels were quickly pulled free of their magnetic closures and laid aside. Yrrvng's scent drew me in and I found myself teasing his sheath back with my tongue so I could wrap soft lips around his knot and suck slowly. His tongue was teasing toward my shivering, sensitive ring. I spread my legs and lifted my ass higher.

We didn't have long, but Yrrvng was pretty worked up already, teasing and tasting my trembling hole as I sucked knot, stroking his hot, male-scented shaft against my cheek, feeling it stiffen, seep, throb and then - to the approval of our audience outside the canteen, who until that moment I'd forgotten - shot jet after jet of cum onto my face, hair and neck before I could get my mouth up to catch and savor the rest.

Yrrvng had no intention of finishing me, though, preferring to keep my sensitive, shivering bud aching for cock. He curled around, lapped a streak of his cum from my face-fur, and then kissed me, open mouthed, for me to enjoy with the taste of my own sticky hole. "Thanks, Hali. You're a real friend."

He cast about, found the panel that belonged to his own pants, used it to wipe me up, then fastened it in place, cummy-side inward, with a sly grin. "So they can smell me," he said. "This one was weird, though - no wonder you're always squirming your cute 'Varri butt around in it," he snickered, handing my own back to me.

The panel he returned felt oddly heavy and, in its inner surface, damp. And it smelled a lot like Yrrvng. After E-Deck. I blushed as a suspicion overcame me, that grew stronger as I held the panel close to sample that scent more deeply. "Yrrvng, have you peed in this?" I asked.

He looked at me, shyly sidelong, maybe afraid I'd be mad. "Only a little." A chime sounded the Watch change. Yrrvng just watched me, his anxious look replaced by a timid grin, replaced by a big toothy one, as I fastened the panel in place and fit the fat conditioning bead snug against my ring. I'd be smelling him - and smelling like him - all day. Which I didn't mind, exactly.

Yrrv leaned in to nuzzle my ear, pleased. One hand cupped me in front, stroking me hard in the scent-marked panel, which still looked, if not smelled, immaculate. "Think of me next time you cum in this, okay?"

I arched reflexively into his teasing grip as he slowly jacked me through the thin, slick fabric, making the conditioning nodule pluck and hum at my shivering hole. "Sure, Yrrvng. I promise."

He gave my cock a tender squeeze, and whispered hot and low right in my ear. "Good slut." Then, with a last lick, he was gone.

* * *

The delay in my study session had of course been penalized with a further drop in my marks, and as much as I tried to focus on my work, instead of the suggestive holos in my side-vision, the snugly sliding, dank caress of my trouser panel, or half-heard remarks from my Vargyr audience in the passage, it was only a short time before my scores dropped still lower into the red, and I found myself derogated to remedial instruction.

A tutorial program came on line, accompanied by a simple, cheery, bouncy tune. It was hard for me not to bounce along. "Hullo-ullo-ullo there, pardner! I'm Donnee Donk! You sure look like you could use a buddy. How's about I try and lend a hand?"

My vidifax display had reconfigured itself entirely, taking me a long moment to orient myself to the brightly colorful screen and its big, rounded, multicolor response icons, laid out on a much simplified console with myself, shown in similar simplified animation, squirming my bottom shyly on a saddle seat as the friendly, animated tutor introduced himself, to the murmur of fond chuckles and one derisive hoot from the Vargyr crewmen watching from outside the canteen.

I blushed and squirmed shyly on my own saddle-seat, lapped up the dose of soothers my wrist-unit offered, and then realized the program was blinking two icons, waiting on input from me: Round, green icon, Yes, or square, red icon, No. Donnee Donk stood eager to help in his comically patched overalls, with his tail sticking out from a two-buttoned butt-flap in back and one thumb tucked over his big, friendly Donk-bulge in the front.

I hesitated just a moment, distracted by rolling the soothers' flavor around my mouth, and then hit Yes, locking me into assisted studies, and out of certain ship systems that I was no longer qualified to access until my shipboard safety rating improved. More amusement from the crewmen, and a clear, smug voice saying, "Told ya!"

The green button flashed and gave a satisfied chime of accomplishment, and a rolling knob on the seat beneath me buzzed against the conditioning node greasily teasing my ring. On my screen, Donnee Donk gave me a big, buck-toothed grin and straddled the seat to slide his big, goofy bulge right up against my animated avatar's wiggling backside.

"Thanks for asking me to saddle up, pardner! Now, that's what I call friendly! Wanna find out what all we can do, together? Ready? Let's go!"

I took another dose of soother tablets, my tail tossing behind me, as if hoping to find Donnee Donk actually there in person, and leaving me vaguely, indefinably, unsatisfied. I settled in to make the best job I could of my remaining study time, between Donnee Donk's cheery suggestions and Yrrvng's persistent, pervasive claim-scent overlaying the deep, dank scent of Vargyr cum all around me.

* * *

Even with Donnee Donk to help me through the simplified coursework, my improvement was only marginal. I found myself fretting over what Yrrvng had implied earlier, regarding the impression I was making on the crew, and wondering if they truly did like me better because of it.

Talking it over with my Captain would only worry him on my account, and it was impossible to predict how he might respond. I sure would hate to put my place on his crew at further risk, far less to take his time and attention away from important matters of command.

Yrrvng would listen, at least until we fell to doing other things which I found I was already looking forward to. But I'd tried that and, really, it wasn't his problem. I pondered his parting whisper, my ears drooping but my cock stiff in its warm pouch, knowing he wasn't the right person for this, either.

How much had the crewmen watching us in the corridor overheard? What did they really think of me, and why was I afraid to find out? Or was I not so much afraid, as eager? Could they smell Yrrvng on me? Did I want them to?

After my thoughts had chased themselves in circles for some while, the obvious answer to my dilemma presented itself. Of course. Who else could help me, just as he always had?

* * *

Doctor Courangara heard me out patiently, prompting me when I blushed or stuttered, waiting as I cleared my mouth of each soother dose my wrist-unit dispensed, and sustaining me with the calmative, attentive gaze of his wise, amber-eyed regard. I hadn't been asked to sit, but he'd turned his chair to face me, spread his legs, and had gestured for me to stand between his feet where he could look me in the eye as we conversed.

That is, when my eyes weren't drifting downward away from his in shy embarrasment to look him in the lap, instead. He was bare to the waist, his silken dressing-gown tied by a tasseled sash low on his hips, its hanging ends draped across the silk-shod swell of the considerable maleness between his parted thighs. Far larger than any Vargyr. He spoke, recapturing my gaze with his own.

"I appreciate you trusting me this delicate and personal confession, Dasker," he said when I had shared all my confused concerns. "In return for that trust, I feel I must make an admission of my own. I myself must bear some responsibility for your poor performance at your studies. If I explain, I hope you will forgive me any distress this has caused you."

I blinked, taking this in, but could only agree. Doctor Courangara is of a huge, intimidating breed, uplifted from the largest predatory cats. Only his gentle, patient, kindly demeanor made him as approachable as he was. But he was difficult to contradict. "Of course. But I don't understand..."

He cut me off, gently but firmly. "No, of course you wouldn't, Dasker. It's a complicated matter, but I will do my best to tell it in simple terms that you will understand." He smiled fondly. "Also, it was better at the start that you shouldn't know, but that time, I think, is past. Please, may I just explain?"

I nodded, again, feeling a sense of returning calm. Of course I had been right to trust him with this. However muddled my feelings or thinking, he always had a way of helping me make sense of myself.

"Very good. Now understand, I am only responsible in part, Dasker. Regardless of what you may have accomplished or expected of yourself on Halivarr, here and now, among this crew, your poor performance and consequent reputation are as they are, and no one will expect more from you than you are able to achieve." He spoke gently, but firmly.

"No more than you are held to blame for your shameless display and provocative behavior, which we all understand and accept as simply who you are." He saw my ears droop as I shuffled uncomfortably and tried to hide the inappropriate, obstreperous swell in the front of my pants.

One warm-furred knucle under my chin gently, firmly raised my eyes to meet his. "Some advice, Dasker, if I may?" I nodded into his supporting paw. "Vargyr are sociable creatures, you understand, and on this ship you are part of a crew. When you find yourself doubting your worth, remember that. This is not something you are doing alone, or privately. If ever you are unsure what to think of yourself, trust your crewmates to tell you what they do. Believe them." I nodded my assent, and he smiled.

"Also, I understand as well as anyone who has never shared a Halivarri pairbond can," he continued, "just how hard it must be for you not to feel worthy of your bond-mate." I blushed, nodding, and he continued. "But, just as much as you might wish that someone like you could aspire to his stature or his standards, Hali, I know you will also wish to take his opinion of you to heart. Trust in that."

I nodded again, recalling my Captain's demeanor during my disciplinary hearing, and after, and the Doctor nodded back. "Just so. Now, for my part in your dilemma, and how I hope you will allow me to make amends," he went on, withdrawing his curled paw from under my chin, to ply a single fingerpad just along the hemline of my crewman's shirt, from one upper nipple to the other, and down over the smaller two beneath it, stroking my fur, but letting my gaze escape his, as if suddenly shy, himself. My own eyes, released, dropped back to the vast, veiled maleness between his spread thighs.

"You must understand how rare it is for me to have a patient so perfectly suited to subliminal therapies," he explained. "By measures you may be unaware of, but apparent to me, you are progressing splendidly." I had braced for bad news, so the validation I felt from hearing I was doing well only made me listen more attentively. "I am only sorry if running my programs alongside your other coursework has inflenced things in any way distressing to you." He waited for this to sink in, and went on.

"For best effect, to determine subconscious bias and to more precisely target vulnerable engrams, it was necessary to array a diversity of alternative choices behind those answers available for your conscious self to choose among. Many of those, from the course material you are assigned, were on that level wrong. But I have been able to learn just what you respond to, best. Understand?" He waited, to be sure I was following. I nodded, and he nodded in return, and continued.

"So some of the time when you make a mistake in your study questions, it's because you're distracted by something else. And sometimes that distraction is you preferring to answer a different question, in a way you feel is important and right. It is a good gauge as well of your inner priorities, and the spirit your healthy Halivarri instincts have for finding every outlet you are able to allow them." His fingerpad released my lower nipple, and grazed lower still, hesitating just above the panel of my snug crewman's pants.

"You may not see the choices you are making, Dasker, but that doesn't make them less real, where it matters. Given the option of honestly expressing desires you hide from, or correctly answering essentially irrelevant questions about astrophysics or ship safety, some deep part of you very much prefers the former. You see?"

"I think so. But to work, it has to be submissi- um, subliminal?" As I stumbled over my words, I could almost hear Donnee Donk's gentle teasing for another wrong answer, "You silly! I thought I was the Donk!" The Doctor smiled, and continued.

"I am glad you understand." I felt a little boost at his praise. "But, as this may lead to an unfortunate misundertanding on the part of your crewmates, in concession of fairness, I am prepared to make a clear-cast of your subliminal course to be plainly visible, if not to you, then at least to them." I nodded, to show I was following, and he nodded back.

"There are status-screens all along that passage. I'll simply arrange for those adjacent to your quarters show both the course materials you are failing, and those at which you have excelled." His finger poised to stroke lower, and paused again. "However..." My breath caught, and my wrist-unit offered me a single soother tablet, which of course I took.

"You should be aware that the subliminal prompts to which you have shown the best response have been largely sexual - some quite explicitly so. Things that might embarrass you, still, where you harbor those stubborn inhibitions we're just starting to overcome." His finger trailed down the plain outline of my erection, wherever my hand failed to cover or contain it.

"I'd hate to sacrifice any of the progress we are making, but if you'd really rather the crew not come think of you in that way, I could resort to stock, staid, standard-issue motivational messages, instead." His finger considered a bronzium button-tab where it restrained me. "The choice is of course entirely up to you."

I sucked the Vargyr-cum savor of the soother on my tongue, and imagined big, simple, decision buttons, green circle, red square, blinking, waiting. From somewhere unexpected I felt a question of my own emerging, to help me choose, decisively.

"Um... the submissibles, do you think.." I stammered. "Could you maybe make them, you know, dirtier, instead?" I knew my words weren't quite right, but letting the question out gave me the same mix of excitement and relief that I'd felt letting Yrrvng pull me back onto my bed to pin me under his cock. The Doctor smiled, showing teeth.

"Well, yes, Hali. I could," fingerpad and thumb plied the bronzium fastener apart. "If that is what you truly want. In fact it could be the best way for you to see real progress." A fingertip shifted the position of my sex as though arranging a flower, so that an inch or more escaped confinement, peeking out of taut, clinging panel that held the rest of me captive. I thought of Donnee Donk's tail, sticking out of the back-flap of his overalls.

"But that means truly personal desires, that you might be truly ashamed to admit to, you understand." His big, soft paw covered my own, drew it aside from hiding my length where it's sheer, snug panel plainly displayed it. "Things you'll only come to want more urgently, and keyed only to wrong answers in the coursework you do see." He laid my hand just against where I peeked out, so that finger-pads and thumb-tip could ply my finely-furred prepuce around my shyly glistening glans.

Instinctively, I milked out a thick bead of dew to web fingertips and foreskin in slick, sticky strands, and nodded to show I understood, and he smiled with approval.

"Very well, if you'll forgive me for deceiving you in the first place. You will, I hope?" His eyes found mine again, warm and almost vulnerable, as if seeking my reassurance as I had learned to look for his. I could only agree. "I am pleased that you can and do." I felt his relief as my own. "It is always a pleasure to help you, Hali. Please don't hesitate, if ever my guidance is wanted."

Sensing my dismissal, I tucked myself back into my front panel, recalling my promise to Yrrvng that I'd cum inside it for him, and licked my fingertips absently. But I left the button of the panel unfastened as I started to make my way out.

"Oh, Dasker. A request on my own behalf, if I may," the Doctor said as I was leaving.

"Of course." I stopped and then he was looming beside me, one huge, warm paw completely covering my shoulder. He dropped to a knee to be at eye level to be sure he had my full attention.

"As genuinely pleased as I am for you, seeing all the ways in which you are learning to make yourself more enticing for your Vargyr friends, Hali, I will kindly remind you that I am Rakasha." He held my eyes with his warm, reassuring gaze, as his hand slipped down my back past my tail.

"In the future, when you wish to visit with me, please make use of a fresher, beforehand." I found myself blushing all over, as it dawned fully upon me how I must seem to his refined and fastidious tastes, still rumpled and fragrant, even sticky in places from the activities I'd indulged in, not just with Yrrvng, that morning, but also with Arrvis and Orngg as well, the night before. His own bare upper body smelled of incense and warm fur. His smile was indulgent, absolving me of a need to apologize.

"You will find one conveniently adjacent to the medbay, on your way in. I'll hang a robe there for you." I felt the pads of his vast, gentle paw rove my bottom, unhitching one button at the top of my rear panel on one side, two on the other, allowing it to hang askew below my tail with ship's air cool on the bare top of my cleft, and bringing a hint of Yrrvng's souvenir scent-mark with it. A single finger-pad - easily as wide as Yrrvng's entire cock - trailed down the rear seam to play the conditioner bead against my ring and assure all else remained glove-snug. My wrist unit chimed and I lapped up a large dose of soothers as he sent me off with a pat.

"Good boy. Now, run along," said the Doctor. "You wouldn't want to be late for your duty shift, down on E-Deck." I headed off, feeling relieved, already forgetting just what we had discussed, only happy to know that Doctor Courangara had been so willing to help.

* * *

"Well, well, boys. Look who decided to show up after all," said Security Chief Harrnn. "If it isn't our slutty little butt-buddy from turret seventeen."

I wasn't actually late, but they were waiting for me, all six of the security crew who had responded to an unauthorized access to turret seventeen three, no four days ago. Some already had their panels open at the front to make heavy use of the curved, plass-tiled back wall that was the narrow relief room's shared urinal. The Chief just grinned as my gaze fell to where one paw hooked his belt above the prodigious display his own modesty panel offered.

"Aw, don't be sacred, pup," the security chief said as he reached to tousel my ear. "You aren't in any trouble. We're your safety monitors, this shift - make sure you don't hurt yourself handling any dangerous equipment." His crew crowded close, some before they had quite finished, and I was surrounded by dominant, aroused Vargyr scents and gentle touches down my back, up my thighs, callussed paw pads ruffling my fur where the cut of my uniform left it bare.

"Now, ever since we got you so worked up and then hauled you off to the brig, we've felt bad about leaving you like that," Harrnn continued, one big paw cupping me through my front panel. Its white outer surface was still spotless, but it's inner one a slick, sticky mix of Yrrvng's scent and my pre soaking the fine fur of my cock. I shyly met his cool, grey eyes and bit my lip, feeling myself blush even as let myself buck into his hand, stroking myself hard intentionally. His lip curled in a smug grin.

"Aw, that's our pup, just teasing and squirming and hungry for cum," he said fondly. "Well, fuck-pet, you may notice we don't have our mean old stunners with us, today." He plied the pad of his thumb where I stroked myself with his hand, milking me of a steady flow of slick sap. "But if you take a look around, you'll see we've brought plenty of knot-hard, Vargyr cock, instead. So if it's all the same to you, we'll just make do with that."

"Yes, sir," I nodded, and let the hand slipping behind my head guide me down, still meeting his eyes, to where he was letting me unsnap his front panel with trembling hands. I felt the Vargyr behind me stoop a bit and spread his thighs to bring himself snug along the center seam of my back panel, and a shiver up my back as my tail wrapped his waist. In my head, I heard Donnee Donk: "Now, that's what I call friendly!"

"Aw, see? You really are an eager little cock-slut," said Security Chief Harrnn, encouragingly, as I glossed my lips with the tip of his meaty, Vargyr cock. "Well, don't you worry none, little buddy. We'll let you cum this time, pup. Just as much as you like." My own cock twitched and dribbled behind its panel to hear I'd be able to keep the promised I'd given Yrrvng. Nuzzling down to Harrnn's knot, I shivered again and arched back to tease myself with the cock-tip glazing my ring. "Good boy."

* * *

"Well, Doctor. How is the patient?" I wouldn't learn of these daily conversations for some time, but my Captain reguarly recorded conferences in his ready-room, and later I'd be able to review them. A decanter of Ouvreskan single-malt was on the table, and a glass for each, close to the high-backed chairs near the fine wooden shelving of books, war trophies and a small holo of me, peering back over my shoulder past the tuft of my tail.

"Perfectly healthy and, in some ways, adapting very well to his therapies," Doctor Courangara delivered his opinion levelly and dispassionately, befitting his stature as Chief Medical officer.

"In some ways?" Captain Fangg isn't the sort to overlook qualified assurances, but he wasn't too worried to enjoy his drink.

"Still unsettled between how he feels and how he imagines he should feel, complicated by a certain embarrassment in regards to his academic performance." The Doctor went on to reassure. "However, he very sensibly sought me out for counseling, and I believe I was able to be of help in progressing his adaptation."

"Yes, about those academics," the Captain replied, "any ideas? We both know the kinds of aptitude the Scout Service Academy requires of any recruit. Remedial instruction? Assisted learning? Absurd!" He took a breath, and calmed himself. "I beg your pardon, Doctor. But I would welcome your thoughts."

"Of course," the Doctor replied soothingly. "I believe there are several factors at play. I will explain as best I understand matters myself, and give you my recommendation as to how you might proceed."

"All I can ask," said the Captain. "Please, continue." He brooded over his wiskey as he listened.

"As I told Dasker, whatever his aptitudes may have been on Halivarr - and I'll remind you, we have never actually seen his transcripts or evaluations, nor is it unheard of for Space Command to issue oblique or dubious decisions where the Made Races are concered - Regardless of his past performance, there, he is here, now." The Doctor paused for a sip from his own glass, then continued.

"The only fair basis for our own assessment is the performance we observe, however disappointing it may be. We must work from the facts as they present themselves. Unless you wish for me to cook up some manner of faked data, to shelter him from harsh opinion of himself, or from the frank and realistic appraisal of the crew."

"No, no. That wouldn't do at all. You are quite correct." The Captain sipped his wiskey, steeling himself to my academic and mental shortcomings as facts to be faced.

"He might even improve, once he bottoms out and finds his level." A smile as small as a hope. "If it helps you to accept matters as they are, then know that I have already taken time to modify the remedial tutor interface to best address his special needs, in a manner wholly complementary to programs of my own which are running parallel, in close coordination," said the Doctor at his most reassuring.

"Very thoughtful of you," said the Captain. "And how, in your opinion, should I most usefully proceed?" Another measured sip of single-malt, eyeing the glass in his hand.

"Try not to think less of him. I assure you that, far from malingering at his studies, he truly is doing his best," said the Doctor. "But neither should you coddle him, or pretend these marks don't matter. You know as well as I that aptitude bars for duty assignments and systems access exist for good reason, and so does your crew." The Doctor was firm. "The more than generous relaxation of discipline already made for expression of his Halivarri impulses aside, I don't think any special allowance ought to be made."

"Certainly not. I'll make it plain that he should not expect anything of the kind," said the Captain. "He'll simply have to learn his place, on E-Deck and elsewhere, until he improves. But I was speaking more in regard to his bond."

"You know I would not wish to impertinently pry into personal affairs," the Doctor temporized, "but if you wish my frank appraisal of matters, I will give it."

"I do wish it and, more, I have expressly requested it."

"Dasker still struggles some with feelings of embarrassment, and even shame, over his predilection for suggestive display and promiscuous behavior. I mention this, since I anticipate that you might hope to spare him distress by pretending to overlook that sort of thing, or excusing it as unintentional," the Doctor elaborated. "This, in my professional opinion, would be a grave error."

"I believe I comprehend. And the course you recommend?" the Captain asked, topping off both glasses from the decanter.

"Far from pretending to overlook it, draw his attention to it, instead, in a way that makes it plain what it means to provoke Vargyr interest." The Doctor's tone was hard. "Demand of him whether that is how he wishes to be regarded, not merely by the entire crew, but by yourself personally, behaving as he does. Be as explict as you can. You will know the point has been made, if you see his wrist-unit dispense medication for a third time. Until then, press him, in whatever ways make him blush, stutter, or so on."

"I believe I understand, although I admit I may find it difficult," said the Captain. "But if you think it is the best way... Well."

"I do," said the Doctor firmly. "Further, once the point has been made, verbally, you must then if at all feasible demonstrate, personally, the precise consequences of such provocation and, afterward, have him thank you for the lesson."

"I find that makes the prospect much more attractive to contemplate," the Captain admitted wryly. "I suppose the same essential strategy pertains, concerning any embarrassment or shame that he may feel knowing I am aware of his promiscuity with the crew."

"Just so," affirmed the Doctor. "More, as he is not Vargyr, he must be made aware of, and never allowed to forget, just what subordinating himself so freely to the likes of Crewman Yrrvng means for his own status, how this reflects on your own prestige as his mate, and of course how you intend to assert your prior claim the more firmly, on account of it."

"Hm. It may become difficult for me to adequately distinguish one lesson from the other," the Captain mused with a faint smirk above his glass.

"It is not necessary, and perhaps better that you do not. Nor should it ever be clear to him whether you approve, or not, for so long as he continues this struggle to accept himself." The Doctor levelled a paw over the table to stay an objection, and reiterated his advice, patiently.

"You will see where he is hesitant. Press on various topics, wherever he shows doubts or insecurities, and keep him off-balance and uncertain of your affection until his medication indicates he is ready. Then, you may gratify his urges and your own as freely and fully as you please. If you administer the treatment correctly, his natural response will be gratitude."

"I understand. I certainly would not wish for him to come to believe that he may take his position for granted. Very well. Thank you."

"Of course, Captain. You know I am only too pleased that I can help."

* * *

I was late again, attending my Captain, this time still sore from a hurried un-knotting when I'd realized I had missed dinner, and it was nearly time for me to help him undress for bed.

"You are late, Dasker. Stand." He pointed at a place on the rug in front of his dressing-chair, face stony as he unfastened the cuffs of his sleeves and the collar of his tunic.

I shuffled in place, hands behind my back, tail tossing low, behind me. "Sorry, Sir," I said as well as I could. "No excuse. Sir." I shivered under his gaze as I felt body-warm vargyr cum bubble and seep from my sore, sensitive hole.

His face was an unreadable mask as his eyes raked me from head to foot. I became absurdly aware of the undone fastener along my panel, but didn't dare cover myself to draw special attention to it.

"Good. I am unintersted in excuses," he said, unfastening another button of his shirt. "But I will have an explanation."

"I was... detained, sir." Horribly, I felt my cock twitch and slide against the gapped side of the panel that displayed it.

"Detained?" The Captain had noticed it as well.

"Knotted, Sir."

"I see." He stood, unfastened another button, then reached out just as the Doctor had before, and adjusted my erection so that it peeked from the panel flap. "And the lucky fellow's name?" He paced with a heavy gait, circling me slowly.

"I... don't know, Sir." I couldn't see him, but the security crew had insisted I leave with my crewman's pants just the way I'd come it, and he could see me. "Brownish gray, red marks around his muzzle, and above his eyes. Security Chief Harrnn's second. Sir."

"Ah, well, that is something. Really, Dasker, all considered I am pleased you are still prepared to identify him in any manner beyond whoever happened to be next in line." I couldn't tell if he were joking. "But have you forgotten already my request that you not wear the button-panel of your crewman's trousers in my chambers, Dasker?"

I blushed, and my wrist-unit chimed. I took my soothers - rather a mouthful, this time - and reached to correct the oversight. But the Captain's hand intercepted my own. "Leave it, now," he said brusquely. "It suits you." My interrupted hand idly played my fuzzy, sticky foreskin around nervously instead.

"Do you have any idea of the spectacle you present, Dasker?" asked my Captain, as if in genuine doubt that I could. "No, no - continue by all means. In fact..." He tapped his own wrist comm.

"Rrnoldt? Have Records Officer Warris report to my quarters, with his portable imager, immediately."

"I haven't used a fresher, though, sir..." I ventured, desperate to ingratiate myself. He was unreadable in this mood, distant even as his muzzle brushed my neck to take in my scent.

"I am aware of that, Dasker," he said just at my ear. "I am glad to know that you can still follow those of my orders which suit your fancy. And tell me," he demanded, "how does that make you feel, trailing these scents in your wake, Dasker?"

"Dirty, sir." My hand still fiddled my foreskin around the head of my cock, which seeped a steady stream to keep my fingerpads sticky.

"Dirty, like you need a wash?" asked the Captain, disdainfully.

"Dirty, like I need cock and cum, sir." I blushed, but the words were out before I knew what I was saying.

He smirked. "It doesn't seem to me as though you have unduly deprived yourself of either, in any event." He reached with one hand to caress the underside of my tail, just where my panel hung open at the top, gathered sticky residue on the pad of one finger as he circled around me, grazed it down my cheek and offered the pad for me to lick. I met his eyes and sucked it slowly.

For just a moment, his regard softened to one of the most tender affection, and I felt my heart turn over. Then, his door chimed, and he withdrew into his aloof, assured air of command. "Enter."

"Captain." Records Officer Warris entered as he was bid, with a deferential nod, lip twitching as he took in the sight and scent of me, achingly hard, reeking of E-Deck, poking out from my disheveled, half-undone trousers.

"Ah, Warris." The Captain was entirely cool and composed. "I hope that I might prevail upon your expertise? I wish for you to capture, as well as you can for me, the utterly, shameless and flagrant display that Crewman Dasker has made of himself."

He gestured to his dressing chair as he circled around behind me again. "Keep the focus on him, but allow me to be visible in the background. Then, if you will, I'll take the chair and you can snap a few shots from behind. You are so very good at capturing a suggestion of scent in your work, so please, don't be sparing of his modesty."

"Yes, sir." Warris maintained his composure, aside from an irrepressible smirk, as he lined up his shot from the dressing chair. Behind me and out of my sight, my Captain continued his interrogation, regardless of our audience.

"Tell me, Dasker," he said, "your anonymous knot-donor. I hope you at least allowed him to finish in your... what was the phrase again?"

"In my dirty, cum-slut fuck-hole?" I asked, timidly. "Sir?"

"I was going to say 'your pretty, little bottom,' Dasker. But if that is how you prefer for me to think of you, I will endeavor to adjust my opinion." The scent of his dominance - and of his arousal - was strong and I didn't contradict him. "But to return to my question. You did let... whoever it was, finish?"

"Yes, sir. And after he pulled it out he made me clean him up, sir. With my mouth." I was desperate not to seem negligent.

"Made you, Dasker?" His tone faintly chiding.

"Let me, sir. He let me clean him up. With my mouth."

I had to slow my hand where I still slid my sticky, fuzzy foreskin around the seeping head of my aching, hard cock, and wipe the overflow off on my front panel. The fabric wicked it from my fingers, and transfered it to the clinging inner surface, instead.

"Better, Dasker," said my Captain, moving back around where I could see him, his eye framed by its terrible scar regarding me coolly. "You must learn to be careful with these reckless accusations."

Warris had finished his frontal snaps, and hastily moved out of the Captain's way. Cpatain Fangg's shirt hung open over the silver-grey of his pelt, and he had unfastened his pants at the top. I could just make out a hint of his arousal under as much of the dark undergarment as was showing as he resumed his seat casually.

"I am almost of the impression, Dasker, that behaving as you do you are trying to be assigned to E-Deck's relief stations permenantly. Or do you owe your academic deficiencies to some other aspiration?" His tone was mocking, a playful hint that he might indeed condemn me to latrine duty. Did I want him to? My wrist unit chimed.

"Um. Doctor Courangara said..." I started to explain, around a thick mouthful of melting soothers, but he cut me off brusquely, so I just stood there teasing my cock slowly as I sucked the cum-savor from my tongue.

"That you are doing your best? That the only fair basis for evaluating your aptitude is the performance and conduct we can all see for ourselves?" He eyed me coldly, but I could sense the subconscious influence he felt from me, and I found myself helpless - or was I merely unwilling? - to keep from teasing the fuzzy skin around the seeping vrown of my cock slowly between sticky fingers.

"Late starting your mandated studies this morning, I understand. Did you have an especially late night, Dasker? A rhetorical question," he said, cutting off my reply. "Your assignation with young Yrrvng was hardly covert, nor was the visit paid your quarters by your other friends on his work crew. Arrvis, of course. And Ornngg, I believe?"

"Yes, sir," I admitted, a bit sheepishly. That he knew their names, but I couldn't put a name to all my recent partners on E-deck embarrassed me.

"And did they allow you to clean them up with your mouth, after, as well?" His crisp, white shirt fell away and he sat back, legs spread and trousers unbuttoned, making a lazy, frontal adjustment as he questioned me. I slowed my hand so as not to cum without permission.

"No, sir. They left too soon," I replied. I sensed Warris still somewhere behind me. "Anyway, only Ornngg actually fucked me."

The Captain tsked in disappointment. "I find that very remiss of you, Dasker. You should have been more persuasive. And not just of Crewman Ornngg," he continued. "You should have asked Arrvis as well, to let you thank him for making your little friend Yrrvng cum for you."

"Sorry, sir..." I found myself wondering what Arrvis' cock would taste like, still hot and sticky from Yrrvng's eager hole. I wanted to find out.

"I should hope so, Dasker, and that you will be more diligent in the future," said the Captain. "Otherwise, I shall have to make it an order. Records Officer, have you been following this conversation?"

"Oh, I have, sir." Even wihout the scent-awareness and psi-meds that Doctor Courangara had me taking, the tone of his voice betrayed his deep, aroused, scornful amusement. My cock twitched and leaked betweem my fingertips, almost slipping away.

"This need not be in public record," said the Captain, and I breathed a sigh of relief. "But if you would, please, see to it that my expectations of Dasker's respectful conduct toward his superiors becomes common knowledge among the crew."

"With pleasure, sir." Warris would enjoy this, and I knew how quickly rumors spread on the cruiser. My wrist unit chimed and I lapped up the soothers, savoring the flavor that melted across my tongue.

"Very good. Send me the holos that meet your standards, when you have selected them and, if you are done here, you are dismissed. Captain's Mate Dasker amd I have some matters to review. Privately."

"Yes, sir." Warris gathered his equipment and left.

* * *

I wouldn't return to my own quarters to sleep for another seven hours, all of them spent meeting my Captain's ardent demands, until I was soaked in his scent, and happily sore at both ends. Somehow, one button tab at the front of my trousers, and two at the back, no longer fastened at all, but I was too tired to care.

Or maybe I liked knowing how I looked, making my way through dim companionways to my plush, comform bed. I only had about an hour, to get what sleep I could, before I started my study sessions again. I lay down still hard and seeping, humping my soft bunk as I fell asleep.

* * *