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I've not posted anything for a while. Too long, if I'm being honest. I've been working on a new series, the first of which should be available sometime in April. More to come on that, so watch this space or add me on my Twitter accounts (@speaking_wolf and @JakeSnow89)

In the meantime, here's something to whet your appetites. Hope you like it. ;-) Feel free to comment and vote. :-)

- SpeakingWolf

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This story is a work of fiction. In real life, make sure you practice safe, sane and consensual sex.

Shiver Me Timbers

The rumours had spread around the seven seas like the plague. Lightfingers was his nickname to everyone who didn't know him. The fox was given little description amongst pirates, though each clan had their own imagination. He'd been branded a pirate himself by the monarchies, but his unknown identity made it impossible to bring him down.

Lightfingers was only known for one heinous crime; the theft of a solid gold doubloon, sought by every scurvy sea-dog who desired what was only referred to as The Ultimate Treasure. How the fabled amulet lead to any treasure was another tale whose fabrication depended on its narrator. Only three facts remained the same in every variation.

Firstly, the doubloon was gold and held the distinct impression of a tail and a sword.

Secondly, Lightfingers was a fox.

Thirdly, every pirate wanted to get their paws on the artefact.

The crew members of the Triton, a grand wooden ship with masts that seemed to go on forever, were no exception. After being found among the remains of the HMS Buttercup, the ship made an attempt to rescue me.

A black Labrador jumped into the sea, a thick rope tied around his waist as he swam towards me. The water was freezing, and my memory of how I got there was as choppy as the waves. He wrapped his arms around me and called out to his crew.

His biceps were huge, and he could have crushed me with his mammoth strength had he wished. The scent of sweat was strong on him, and the thought of a rugged saviour rescuing me from the heart of the Indian Ocean made me pull into him. As the canine was pulled closer into the ship, my eyes, stinging with saltwater, caught a better glimpse of his definition. He was bare-chested and his abdominals showed through the sheet of wet fur perfectly.

I wrapped my arms loosely around him, and soon I felt us being dragged out of the water. One of his tree-trunk arms cradled me as the other held onto the rope. His legs, covered by a pair of tan drawers, kicked against the ship's side. His giant footpaws pounded firmly against the wood as he reverse-abseiled up the vessel.

"Heave," sounded a cry from the deck, followed by an equally loud, "Ho!"

"Kid, ya hear me?"

His voice was deep as the waters, a trait which contrasted greatly against his almost whispering volume. I moaned out some unheard words before coughing up the water I must have swallowed. I started hacking heavily, and the Labrador smacked my back with his free paw.

"He's breathing," he shouted up before assessing me properly. "Just."

"Heave!"

I was sure I was going to.

"Ho!"

The Labrador's paw let go of the rope as we reached the deck and he pulled us up. His enormous body trembled as he strained, his pink tongue sticking slightly out of his lips as he concentrated. The pectoral muscles tightened to their fullest, and he soon hoisted me up high enough so that I could see the rest of the crew.

A sea of cheers and jeers made themselves heard as my body was hurled onto the stern's deck. I was barely strong enough to move. With all the strength I could muster, I lifted myself up on my paws and knees as I coughed into the wooden deck. Paws smacked me on my back to help along anything that might have been stuck.

"Don't let him choke," a voice ordered, while someone wrapped a thick sheet around me. With a splutter, the last of the coughs left my body and I was left gasping for air.

The Labrador stood up and shook the water from his fur. A tiger clapped him on the back when he was at full stature, and a horse punched him jocularly in his abs.

My breath started to slow down as I took in my surroundings. The faded colours of the deck, almost black rather than the expected veneer of wood; the hard and overpowering stench of sweat; the dark eyes of every crew member. Apart from the liveliness of the motley crew, I could easily have mistaken this for a ghost ship.

A powerful paw lifted my shoulder and forced me into the taffrail of the ship. My back resounded with a heavy thump against the wood, and before I could complain about the pain, a dagger was pushed to my neck. Its owner was a bull, whose nose was pierced with a giant gold ring.

"Name," he demanded, pressing the dull blade into my fur. A feeble excuse for a whimper escaped my lips, though my voice was cracked as it escaped me.

"He don't speak," someone shouted out, and my eyes caught a skinny otter. "What say we cut 'im 'til he does?" My heart beat heavily in my throat at the thought.

"Not the best idea," the bull thought aloud, "when we could cut 'im so he don't talk at all!" The jeers started up again, causing the bull to smile widely. His teeth, those that were still in his mouth, were made of solid gold.

"How about ya take a step back and listen to the captain of this-here ship?" Silence fell as the crowd parted like the Red Sea to reveal a Doberman. His fur was the same shade of black as the deck, which caused the long maroon buccaneer coat he wore to look like a faded painting. Short flecks of chestfur stuck out from an open ivory shirt and his black leather boots stomped noisily on the floor as he approached me. The lupine stood over me and smiled, his teeth unusually pearly white.

"Lightfingers," he murred, "Cap'n McGraw of the Triton."

"Li..." I started, unable to finish the sounds trying to escape my lips. I whimpered from exhaustion, and the Doberman mistook it from something else.

"Rackham, at ease," he instructed. The bull, clearly disappointed that he wasn't given the opportunity to spill my blood, retracted his blade and stepped away from me. I smiled and allowed a few heavy breaths of relief to leave my body. The scrape of metal rang in my ears, and I was suddenly greeted with the Doberman's cutlass, pointing square at my face.

"Now, Mr Fingers," he smiled, "it's unlikely someone of your wanted nature goes about giving himself that name - so how do ye like to be called?" His words were clear, even through his swarthy accent, though I had to laugh.

"You think I'm Lightfingers?" I chuckled, my voice still barely making it past my whiskers.

"Foxes are thieves," Rackham was quick to point out, "and we don't want no thieves on this ship!"

"A thief amongst pirates? How would you tell the difference?" I dared, the faintest smile crossing my lips. The bull growled angrily and took a step towards me, his blade brandished in his paw.

McGraw shifted the aim of his cutlass, now pointing it at the bull.

"We are pirates," the captain smiled.

The bull snorted through his thick nose and the gold ring was almost blown away from his septum. The Doberman sheathed his cutlass and looked at my saviour of the sea. A quick nod of his head beckoned the Labrador to him. Instructions were whispered out of my earshot, though my ears twitched fervently to try and pick up on what they were saying.

"What's yer name, lad?" the Labrador shouted over.

"T-Todd," I said in my loudest voice. The two canines shared a look, and the Captain walked off as he started to shout out orders.

"Peters, Rackham, swab the decks! Daniels, man the crow's nest! Everyone else get back to work! And, er... Mr Todd?" I looked up, assuming he meant me. His eyes were fixed on my face and a slight smile graced his lips. "Follow me."

The crew entered a mad rush as they went to obey McGraw's orders. Not wanting to get lost on the vast ship, I attempted to stand up, taking the sheet I'd been given. It took me a moment to get my balance, but I quickly went after the Doberman.

I was knocked about by a few guys running here and there, and the stank of sweat and hard work became even more prevalent. I shot a glance over to the Labrador, who was now donning a loose shirt over his fantastic muscles. Our eyes caught and he gave me a dirty smile. His scent was still strong in my nose, and thankfully I could use the immense piece of fabric to cover my excitement - the bulge at the front of my pantaloons, which were clinging to my skin.

Keeping myself unexposed, I made my way across the poop deck to a small set of descending stairs, where McGraw was waiting for me. He stood outside a door and opened it for me, waving me in with his spare paw. As I made my way down each wooden step, my curiosity of the ship elevated. Pirates were starting up the ship, and the slow yet violent movements of the ship left them unaffected. I, however, had to hold onto the banister to keep from falling over.

To keep from suffering any further embarrassment than being caught out at sea, I made a quick entrance into the door McGraw was holding open for me and waited for him. The room I had just walked into was huge. I wondered how it could have possible fitted into the small space I'd just been walking along.

A long table, lined with a giant map of the oceans, spanned almost half of the room. A candelabra that was drenched in melted wax sat in one corner; a dark red apple that looked as if it was hours away from being overripe in the other. A small metal lantern allowed hung over the table, which had only three chairs surrounding it.

In the starboard corner of the room lay a grand chest. Metal didn't just seem to line the edges and the corners of the frame - the trunk looked as if it was made of metal. Scratches and gouges had been dug into it, which made the box look older. I concluded, however, that it probably would have looked old regardless.

The sun hadn't yet broken through the clouds, but light still poured in from the grand windows on either side of the room.

Behind me, McGraw closed the door and turned the metal lock. I snapped my head around to look at him. He put his paw on my shoulder and smiled, jostling me like an old friend he'd known for years. Guidingly, he walked me to the seats

"I like ya, Todd," he admitted, offering me a chair before moving over to his own and sitting down. "Or is it Lightfingers? Honestly, now." I sighed and closed my eyes.

"Just coz I'm a fox and every fox has a black spot on his head--"

"All right, yer not him, that's fine. Here's the problem we've got," he said, leaning in close to me, "not many trust us as a crew because we're, well, a tad selective when it comes to who joins us." The way he hit the word selective intrigued me, so I leant in and listened to him. The Doberman stood up and approached the chest I'd been admiring, eventually turning to me and sitting on it.

"Ever hear o' the Sword-Tail, lad?"

"The... sword tale?" I repeated dumbly.

"The Sword-Tail is an amulet said to lead to ultimate treasure. Its owner would receive their heart's desire if they travel the seven seas."

"So it's a legend?" I asked. McGraw gave a slight chuckle at my naivety as he shook his head. He knocked on the chest and pointed one furry grey digit at it.

"The amulet's a key," he explained, "that will open this box - said to have been built by Davy Jones himself." His finger traced the circle of a recess in the mechanics. I was too busy admiring the scrapes and scratches to notice the other intricacies he was pointing out.

"And I assume you can't just take a sword and bash it open?"

The captain scoffed loudly and laughed.

"We've tried everything like that, Todd," he went on. The Doberman stood up and made his way to my chair. "All that will open it is that amulet. The one who has the amulet is Lightfingers. Lightfingers is a fox." As he went through the list of facts I already knew, the question of how it affected me still rang in my ears.

"Right?" He shook his head as he towered over me, his nose mere inches from mine. The scent of his breath stood prevalent on his tongue - exotic, like it had lapped against every shore of every land at some point or another.

"So here's the deal, Todd. Join the crew, help us get the amulet, we'll split the booty. The crew would certainly... like you," he smiled, his eyes tracing up and down my body. Could he sense how I felt about the Labrador? Could he tell that I was at his mercy when he dragged me out of the waters? Or was he just trying to scare me? How could he scare me into something I'd welcome, though?

"What if I don't?" I asked, just to keep a pokerface.

"Then we'll have ye anyway then hand ye over to Davy Jones ourselves."

My heart raced in my chest. The crew must have been one-hundred strong, and the thought of lifting my tail to all of them - to being the ship's bitch, was incredibly arousing. Heavy breathes escaped from my maw, causing McGraw to smile and bare all his teeth to me.

"Made yer decision already, have ye, lad?" His cutlass paw slid down and cupped my crotch - throbbing out my quickened pulse. I closed my eyes and threw my head back as he slowly pawed at my length through the fabrics. My teeth gritted together as they held back moans of pleasure. The Doberman murred above me.

"No need to hide it," he chuckled, "we're all animals at the end of the day." His paw, strong and seeming almost uncaring through my pants, squeezed at the length as he evaluated it. "Thick," he started, "nice-sized knot, and I'd say about... eight inches long?"

"Nine," I corrected. In honesty, the inches were wasted on a bottom like me - any top would kill for a cock like mine. Of course, I enjoyed the occasional deviance from my bottom-only lifestyle, so I wouldn't say anything to the crew just yet.

"Nine inches?" he asked, his eyes clearly widening. My lips curled into an open smile as I pulled his paw from my length. As much as I was enjoying the feel of the Doberman groping me, I was fully aware that I'd let him do it for hours. Lifting myself onto my footpaws, my head only reached his sculpted chest. I looked into his eyes, two black marbles sparkling with what they saw in me. My paws ran into his shirt and fingered through his sleek fur.

"And what about you, Captain?" I asked as naughtily as I could muster. The fur was even softer at his stomach, and the way he murrowled as I stroked the muscles in his torso excited me. "I might be nine inches, but what've you got down there?"

My fingers found their way into his breeches and wrapped around his unsheathed member. The meat was hot, and even though it was dry, the soft pads of my paw worked around it easily.

"On yer knees," he ordered, "find out fer yerself!" His paws slapped onto my shoulders and brought me down with one swift blow. I let my eyes look up at his well-worked chest and my heartbeat rang in my throat. Swallowing heavily, my fingers wrapped around the waistband of his breeches. The member swelled visibly for a moment, even under his loose clothes.

Slowly, and savouring every moment, I pulled on the fabrics and revealed the burnt-orange fur covering his abdomen, which got lighter and lighter as I reached his sheath. His cock was the darker than the hue of blood and it must have been seven inches long as it stood at full-mast. I murred happily as I looked into his eyes once again.

"How does the captain feel," I asked, "knowing that the ship's new bitch is bigger than he is?" McGraw opened his maw as he laughed at me before wrapping his paw around the back of my head.

"How's the bitch gonna feel," he retorted, "when he's chokin' on every member o' the Triton?" Without warning, he pulled my head into his crotch, and I was eager enough to open my maw for his length. My tongue worked around his intrusive cock, tasting every molecule of his fantastic erection. The sweet, metallic flavour of him contrasted heavily against the smell of his musk radiating from his fur - an intoxicating scent that stirred hunger inside me.

I murred into his amazing red inches, praising the canine's flavour and texture in my maw. He rested back into the table, and his paw no longer pulled and pushed my head, but rather stroked it. The fur on my ear tingled as he ran his finger along it. My left paw took hold of his knot so that I could bounce to and fro on the Doberman. Every few seconds, my fingers gave a light squeeze to the balloon of flesh, which wasn't much bigger than a golf ball. I wondered how big he'd swell when he knotted. A slight moan escaped from him as my squeezes began caressing the flesh.

Pausing in giving Captain McGraw what I hoped would be the first of many blowjobs, I licked my gums and spat into my right paw. Sticky saliva coated the pads, and as I cupped his sac with the palm, the wet sounds of skin on skin made us both murr in pleasure. I opened my lips again and welcomed the inches of meat on offer. My tongue worked on the underside of his shaft as I allowed the tip to almost enter my throat.

His heavy balls moved beautifully in my palm, and I let out a deep murr as the length moved rhythmically in and out of my mouth. My wet paw moved from his sac and worked its way into my drawers, toying with my nine inches. After a few moments, McGraw grabbed my ears firmly and pulled my head away. I yipped at the sudden force and looked into his eyes.

"Get yer paw out of there," he growled.

Instantly, I obeyed.

"Yes, captain." This caused him to smile and give a small chuckle. Already, I'd been initiated as a member of the Triton. I set to return to the length, but just as the tip neared my lips, his furry finger lifted my chin. I was making eye contact, on my knees with a throbbing erection I'd been banned from touching.

"Take 'em off, lad," he smiled. His claw pressed into the hollow under my chin and guided me up. I stood high on my footpaws before stooping down to drop my drawers. The pirate captain watched with awe as my bare legs, lower torso and length were put on display like some kind of show. Of course, I was a willing performer, so I lifted my muzzle high in the air, raising my loose fitting shirt to show off my erection. Nine ruby inches were laid out in front of him, pointing up to his own cocktip mere inches away.

"Is this better, sir?" McGraw stood on his boots, pulling the leather bindings from his footpaws and kicked them off before taking off his breeches. Two long and amazing legs of black fur stood in front of me, a dark red stick jutting from the top, its texture taking on the look of wet silk. He took a few steps around me, admiring the body I'd given him. His paws ran through my tail, long canine fingers massaging every bristle in it sensually.

"Much better," he admitted. "Now, how about we get yer stretched out nice 'n' wide, lad, eh? Bend over!" I turned to face him, my muzzle crumpled with perplex.

"You've got lube, I'll assume?" The Doberman sniggered at me and moved in closer. I could smell his musk once again, but perhaps that was still the scent that stuck in my nose. His paws spun me around so I was facing my original position.

"Don't believe I said for ye to turn 'round," he vented. Slowly, almost gently, his paw guided me to bend over and use the table to rest. Unsatisfied with my two paws on there, he shook his head and grunted as he pushed into my upper back.

"Forearms, Mr Todd! Get yer forearms on there!" As the ship's bitch, I obeyed my new captain without hesitation. I steadily lowered my body into the table and lifted my tail high in the air, my tailhole readily on display for McGraw.

The pucker was hungry for attention. The Doberman sucked heavily on his fingers, wetting them greatly before running them between the crack in my cheeks. I moaned as I glared into the wall in front of me, only my vivid imagination showing me what the captain was doing. He took his paw away and I heard his wet tongue smacking against his palm. Without warning, he spanked the cheek of my arse with a crack not dissimilar to thunder. I whimpered in amazement through gritted teeth. His fingers curled into my rump and squeezed firmly.

"Likes bein' the bitch, don't he?" McGraw grinned. I heard the pirate spit into his paw and felt his long fingers again. Now they were leaving a trail of sticky saliva around my tight little hole, preparing to open it up. My heavy breath was begging for him to push something into me, be it his fingers, his cock, or even his tongue. Being the one-hundred and ten percent top that he insisted he was, though, I doubted it would be the latter. For now, he was just teasing the muscle.

"Not going to fuck me?" I dared him.

"We're gonna do this properly," he murred, "We don't want to hurt ye on yer first night, do we?" His paw retreated from my rump. The sound of him spitting. The moist digits against my entrance. The jump in my knot as he excited me. It became a highly arousing cycle that the canine seemed unable and unwilling to stop. Minutes in and my hole felt wet enough to take the entire crew. McGraw clearly agreed as he pushed his strong, wet middle finger slowly into me.

His fingertip eased the muscles in my tunnel apart. When his first knuckle popped into me, I moaned in pleasure. From the way he'd described the crew using me and the excited tremble in his breath, I didn't think McGraw had had the pleasure of sex for a long time. If I was right, I figured he must have had extremely good control to not just pound me over his desk. I respected him for it and equally resented him. Another finger this time, and the sudden stretch caused my fingers to curl around the table.

McGraw's paw twisted as he stayed inside me. The Doberman's fingers bent in my tunnel and his fingertips amazed a wonderful part of me. My back arched and my tongue stretched far out of my maw. A cry of pleasure sounded throughout the room as he hit that spot once again.

"The bitch likes that, don't he?" McGraw demanded. I nodded fervently and kept my lips sealed so as not to beg him to ram me as hard as he could. His fingers pulled out of my tailhole with an almighty pop. The Captain's digits made their way round to my maw and he pressed them to my lips.

"Wet 'em," he ordered, but I was already more than willing to oblige. The fact that they were still hot from my hole was extremely intense, and even caused my length to stir as pre dripped from me. I moaned as his fingers became lubricated in my maw, the dark tastes of my tunnel electrifying my tongue. McGraw slowly stole his fingers from me, causing me to groan in protest.

"You'll get 'em back," the Doberman promised mere moments before pushing them back into my hungry tailhole. My legs kicked and bucked and my tail visibly trembled. My breath was heavy and the smell of the salty air became suddenly strong as the ship rocked. I clenched my teeth as the muscles inside me flexed around the digits.

"Yer fuckin' tight, lad," he complimented. Being the new ship's bitch, I figured he could have been talking to my tailhole. That thought, the prospect of being so low in importance that my sex ranked higher than me, was deeply arousing.

McGraw quickly pulled his fingers out of my hole, causing me to cry out. His still-wet fingers wrapped around my hips before the Doberman started humping against my rump. I felt his hard length move against the natural crack in my arse, his thick meat just begging to enter me. I wanted him to fuck me, but right now, I was enjoying the smooth, slow rhythm of nothingness he was providing. Slight moans escaped me with each thrust as I relaxed into him. His paw moved beneath my hole and started to work my balls. The gentle motion as he played with them like Baoding Balls caused every muscle in me to flex and relax in perfect harmony.

"Please," I whimpered, "don't stop... that feels so..."

But words couldn't do this justice. The feeling as he took control of my body was too inexplicable, too good to sully with mere mortal words. I simply closed my eyes and murred as my eager tailhole had a nice seven inches pressing against it.

The Doberman's heat, like a furnace at my back passage, amazed me. The wet sounds of his meat coming into contact with my saliva-drenched crack were wonderfully arousing.

The paw still on my hip moved away, and I felt him grunt as he lowered the tip of his cock. He rubbed the head against my hole, and I felt it kiss the soon-to-be intruder. McGraw's palm left my balls and I heard him spit into his paw, the harsh and wet blow stinging the air around us. The Doberman's paw ran across his shaft for extra lubrication as he prepared to push it into me.

The drier of his two paws clapped onto my shoulder and he slowly pressed the meat against my tight pucker. My claws dug heavily into the wood of the desk as I felt my heartbeat quicken against my sternum. Slowly, the head of his length drove against my hole and stretched my tight muscle in glorious agony. His breath was hot on my ear as he bent over me and began to growl in a whisper.

"Get ready, lad," McGraw warned me, "once I'm done with yer, I'll leave yer to the rest o' the crew."

I gasped lightly at the thought.

"P-permission to speak, Captain?" I asked.

He suddenly stopped and considered me.

"If you're going to break me in, why not do it in front of the crew? Assert your dominance?"

McGraw smiled as he spun me around, a wide smile plastered on his face. He looked down at the stick of meat sticking out from between my legs before grabbing it with his paw. The saliva on it was still warm, and I had to close my eyes as the pleasure intensified.

"You want an audience, just say so," he said.

"You got me," I said with a chuckle. "In more ways than one."

He laughed and clapped my deltoid jocularly. The blow stung, but what was worse was when he took his paw away from me.

"I'll go round them up for you," he explained, not even bothering to put his pants back on. "Wait here." He turned the key to the room, opened the door and walked out. I could hear him shouting to the crew, demanding their attention.

Without hesitation, I reached beneath my shirt and felt around. I grasped the doubloon hanging from my neck, snapped the suspending chain and headed for the window. One of the panels had a simple twist lock, so I opened it.

Knowing that any Pirate's verbal contract was worth the paper it was written on, I had no doubts they'd kill me once they found it. The sword and entwining tail shimmered white in the dull sunlight, and I allowed it to dangle over the glass.

My fingers eased their grasp of the key to the chest by my feet. The piece of gold slid from my fingers slightly further until finally, it was nothing more than a drop in the ocean.

This was the end of Lightfingers and the start of something new.

"Mr Todd? Be kind enough to grace us with your presence."

As my breath hung heavy in the sea-air, I knew that this was only the beginning of my life as the Triton's bitch.

The legend was true: the amulet had lead me to my ultimate treasure.