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Chipped Facets

Yes, Commodore: Volume 4, Chapter 6

For TeryxC by DolphinSanity

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Teryx and “Hunter” (which is to say, Harry) went up on the bow, overlooking the sea. For the dragon, the situation was akin to role-playing. For the tiger, it might as well have been real.

They held hands, because that was what “Chieftain Teryx” demanded. Fully clothed, because it was important for their primitive warrior to remain presentable in public… for now.

The breeze was nice, and so was the view. Sea-salted air whispered through their respective mane and whiskers.

In this context, “Hunter” proved quiet but wide-eyed, his breaths captivated by the sights and sounds of the ocean. His manly body was stricken with a child-like awe: it seemed that “Hunter” had never seen the ocean, or at least never been out on it like this.

Teryx stood there, slowly feeling him up -- a public display of affection that was pushing the envelope for some crew members working in the background. The longest stares were coming from a short raccoon anthro who was setting off Teryx’s gaydar, despite the tidy crew uniform. There was this slight wiggle to his ass, and a bigness in the black of his eyes, that reminded Teryx of people from the clubs back in the city.

Continuing his rising gropes along Harry’s thigh and rear, Teryx pushed at the scene’s social boundaries until the lines were bent and bulging, but he stopped short of crossing them entirely. Giving the audience a show, without attracting the unwanted kinds of attention, seemed like the proper play here. Before long, most of the crew members had simply looked the other way, not concerning themselves with where the antics might go as long as they didn’t perturb other guests.

“Hunter” flexed responsively to each of Teryx’s touches: tightening and relaxing his glutes in ways that made his muscular ass jiggle, even while he kept a mostly upright and attentive pose. His side quivered when Teryx’s hand found its way up under the tiger’s shirt and stroked along the sensitive areas. It wasn’t exactly a ticklish response -- more so, a nervous and ritualized-looking display of muscle tension, as if “Hunter’s” body was used to being touched and silently reacting for public view.

The higher Teryx went -- up to the tiger’s pecs, feeling inward along the fur of his sternum -- the more Harry straightened his legs and arched his back, making himself tall and upright while also putting his upper body into a state that looked ready for… dancing, maybe? Scritching his chest resulted in a folding of his ears and a passive churring noise, eyes half-lidding while his sides swayed and hips gyrated. His arms started to rise, slowly, the shoulders tucking and his rear jiggling from side to side.

The raccoon looked their way again and sighed audibly before moving on, taking his deck mop with him. It was an exasperated, “It sucks that I don’t have time to keep watching this” sort of sigh. (Poor fellow. Maybe he could get something nice in the ear later on.)

A crowd of three university-aged people crossed behind them a moment later, eyes glued to one of their phones while they collectively reacted to a short “fail” video. At first Teryx didn’t bother removing his hand from its cuddly position in Harry’s shirt… but, once they were gone, he figured he’d ease off for now. If he kept going, he might have Harry literally dancing and stripping “for the tribe,” and he didn’t [i]quite[/i] want that here. That, they could save for a suitable context later.

For now, Teryx had a few different romantic ideas in mind… all of which focused on getting inside the tiger’s head and worming his way around even more than he already had. The fact he had this kind of control over Harry’s mental workings was triggering a reward loop in Teryx’s brain that bordered on obsession… and, even though he was largely cognizant of this, he didn’t want to stop. This was his body -- Commodore Teryx’s body -- and it was good for him to get more accustomed to manipulating other hosts in their times of need.

“[i]Kitty~[/i]” murmured Teryx while giving the tiger a surreptitious slurp into the earlobe.

The tiger blinked, taking a weirdly slow breath as if he were either yawning or perhaps waking up. His poised posture slumped, soon leaning demurely against the dragon and nuzzling sideways along his chest.

Good. Now, to immediately push a different button, whose parameters lay more in the middle.

“Tell me how it feels, [i]Harry[/i],” Teryx whispered.

Like a demon from a pentagram, the boyfriend persona was summoned. Tension in the tiger’s body immediately increased: muscles flexing, back straightening, fingers curling. There was a tiny, weird little snort -- air puffing out the scrunched up slits of his feline nostrils. The lids of his eyes sank slightly, lending his face its usual, resting look that said, “I’m mildly to moderately dissatisfied with everything I see around me. Please do something interesting.”

Ah, the familiar boyfriend again! The regular role which Harry played from day to day in this semi-fictionalized long-term relationship into which the slugs had arranged them. Really, it was only an updated version of the tiger’s pre-infestation persona, which had toed the line between gym junkie and tech bro, while publicly asserting that he was hashtag-not-gay (nevermind the tendency of his eyes to linger far too long on other men’s behinds -- you weren’t fooling anyone, tiger-man).

“Hunter” had all sorts of appreciation for the majesty of nature, but Teryx suspected that “Harry” would be less thrilled and act like a grumpy cat about it. He wanted to see the grumpy cat’s reaction -- no, [b]feel[/b] his judgments shift under the control of the slugs’ programming.

Teryx got his wish and the associated dopamine hit: Harry withdrew his hand and straightened, looking at Teryx with irritation.

“All cuddled up to me, looking out over the bow,” muttered Harry, making some effort and sounding polite but definitely not as into this situation as he had been in the moments prior. “I’m all for nice boyfriend times, but this is a little too [i]open[/i] for me.” He folded his arms across his chest and frowned, prompting an immediate laugh from Teryx.

“Open is the idea,” the dragon answered him with a grin, nuzzling under Harry’s neck. “I hoped you’d let yourself [i]feel[/i] some things for a change, you silly stud.”

Teryx was smiling. Playing at sultry submissiveness while he held the reins in the situation was such fun. He figured that Commodore had actively trained his brain to enjoy this more, but the suspicion didn’t stop it from feeling good. Being able to toggle Harry’s personas verbally -- now, putting him on guard and having him act like he didn’t want this again, just like old times… it felt so perfectly [i]right[/i]!

Euphoric and in control, the dragon sniffed under the tiger’s chin. Harry took a deep breath and reciprocated, pressing down and folding an arm around him, acting the strong dom now to Teryx’s slinkier lean.

“Man, this was all a nice gesture,” admitted the tiger, “but you’re [i]crazy[/i] if you think a cruise is going to make me let down all my barriers, or whatever.” Then, sighing: “But, hey, I like your kind of crazy.”

Some of Kitty and Hunter’s traits -- submissiveness and obedience -- were still kicking around in boyfriend-Harry’s mental stack. Once again, without the slug physically present to mediate the shifts, it was a foreseeable result. Harry would become more blended like this, but using a name again might tip the scales.

“I appreciate that you can’t resist me,” Teryx said with a chuckle. “After all, I’m far too handsome… and you’re far too basic.” He blepped his tongue and gave the tiger’s hand a teasing squeeze.

The tiger’s grip tightened in reply. “[i]Grrrrh[/i], okay, you will NOT call me basic. That’s a hard red line.”

“Black line. Tiger stripes.” Teryx smirked, raking his other hand’s fingertips over a few of Harry’s black lines.

“I’m NOT basic,” said Harry, sticking to the point as he playfully bapped Teryx’s hand away.

The dragon folded an arm across his chest while his mane blew in the breeze. “Don’t be sullen. Sometimes the basics are the best [i]basis[/i] for love. Can’t have much of an honest relationship with someone who can’t embrace his instincts, after all.”

Harry sniffed. “So you’re calling me basic [i]and[/i] saying that’s a good thing.” The doubt in his voice was palpable.

Teryx nod-nodded. “[i]Yes Sir[/i], I am.”

The phrasing hit Harry funny and put him on edge, if only momentarily. The tension around the name “Sir” failed to escape from its mental blocks, and Harry soon slipped right back into trusting Teryx implicitly.

“…Hrrgh, yeah, you’re right,” said the tiger after a moment. “It’s so… weird, with you. I [i]actually do[/i] start to feel more open. You sure you aren’t undermining my guard in my sleep or something?”

“Well, I [i]am[/i] your boyfriend; that’s in the job description.”

“Pffft, well, I didn’t sign any contract.”

“No, you [i]absolutely[/i] did~ it’s the contract sealed with…” he reached up and pecked Harry on the mouth. “…a kiss~!!”

Harry turned to face Teryx head-on, rumbling at the “intrusion” of being kissed: eyes going fiery with passion, cat pupils fixing on him as he licked over the pecked spot. There was desire, the feeling of their groins coming together as they held each other’s shoulders with bent arms, deep breaths between them.

The lingering crew had already averted their gazes anyway, and Teryx let himself have the moment. He almost wished a few of them were still looking -- but, such was life.

Their moment was then mildly undercut by a loud vibration from Teryx’s phone, quivering over the sound of the wind. He had a new message, but didn’t yet bother to look.

“I’ll get it in a minute.” Teryx gave the tiger a longer smooch.

As this blended “Harry,” the tiger was still so… soft. To the best of Teryx’s memory, Harry had always given off a little of that “sub in denial” vibe, but the process of being infested, mindbroken, and now divested of his alien operator had made that hole in his psychology raw and obvious.

Was Harry perhaps a more-whole person this way, assuming Teryx could get him to sort of activate all of the roles at once? After all, he had been hiding from far too much of himself originally.

Prior to infestation, Harry had been a tortured nerd at heart: working a difficult high-tech job while repressing every [i]other[/i] nerdy impulse. He kept that [i]all[/i] down, buried in his subconscious, for the sake of devoting more time to “bigger, buffer, stronger” activities. He did i to keep at bay major self-esteem issues that had their roots in childhood, with reinforcement from later peer pressure. Whenever Harry might rather have been worldbuilding, he was bodybuilding. Granted, most anyone could appreciate a sculpted body -- Teryx certainly would consider [i]himself[/i] a connoisseur -- but sacrifices had been made that were not natural for Harry’s personality.

The tiger was… romantic, ultimately. It was part of what [i]fueled[/i] his grumpiness at being seen doing romantic things, with each public display carrying more weight [i]to him[/i] than it did in objective fact. The discrepancy was part of how the tiger created meaning for himself.

…But, really, wasn’t that fine? It wasn’t the universe’s responsibility to create meaning in life, nor to dictate its parameters. [i]That[/i] was the job of every living person. Right now, he and Harry were making meaning for themselves: Teryx as surrogate slug, and Harry as the adorable boyfriend struggling to admit he kind of liked doing this. Even if some of their meaning was theater, it had at least as much meaning as a play or movie might -- and, really, was that so bad?

Teryx’s euphoria grew. Yes, life was this present moment: standing in this shipboard breeze, embracing like a couple of enamored doofuses, eventually taking a few selfies, and listening to the waves hit the ship. This was their silly little moment of achievement, made during this lull while their sexy, slimy, ear-seeking masters were off propagating unseen through more of the ship’s crew, [i]the sneaky bastards[/i].

One by one. Person by person. Taking them all over. Well, not [i]all[/i] -- there wouldn’t be nearly enough time for [i]all[/i] -- but Teryx liked to imagine it that way. The ship’s adult population roaming like nodes on a heat map… the whole vessel slowly turning red, as every mature and worthwhile specimen was added to the fold.

Teryx felt a distinct glimmer of giddiness -- as if, for just a moment, [i]he truly was[/i] the slug who wanted to infest and “torment” a growing number of men with his endless lineage of horniness-milking spawn. Feed, spread, control!

In hindsight, it was probably for the best that Teryx couldn’t get hard right now. Otherwise, he’d be pitching the daddy of all tents in his trousers for this selfie.

...Oh, right, that text message. It was from Garthas. Teryx checked it quickly before getting into the camera:

[i]okay so there is this janitor closet with a staff only access panel[/i]

[i]its legit, just come there whenever. sending image now for location.[/i]

Teryx glanced at the cropped layout map that appeared shortly thereafter, then texted back:

[i]Okay, if you’re good for it. Not intruding on your shift I hope![/i]

The reply arrived rapidly:

[i]taking a few hours off. nothing critical to do and i feel kinda weird[/i]

[i]but having you for company is exciting[/i]

[i]so come by whenever[/i]

Teryx didn’t feel rushed by this. Given that he knew Garthas was (or [i]should[/i] be) among the brain-reined ranks of alien hosts right now, Teryx took the ice dragon’s lack of urgency as a sign that Sir (or Sir’s presumed offspring) would be content to continue playing with the ice dragon solo for a while until they got there. That made sense anyway; one night with a new model of host was hardly long enough to exhaust [i]all[/i] of the possibilities.

For now, Teryx typed back to Garthas:

[i]Be there in a bit. My tiger friend is antsy and needs to take in the sights.[/i]

A reply was being typed immediately, so Teryx awaited it. It read:

[i]sure sure, hey bring him too, i’m sure he’d be fun to let it all hang out with[/i]

Teryx replied with a thumbs-up emoji. He grinned a bit as the message replayed in his thoughts: [i]Let it all hang out[/i] -- yeah, infested Garthas would certainly be keen on that.

“Are you quite finished?” laughed Harry as he casually read the back and forth between them.

“Suspecting it’ll be a good while before I can get anywhere near ‘finished,’” lamented Teryx as he put his phone away, “but I’ll take some solace in setting up a nice three-man romp for us.”

Harry fidgeted absently with his own ear, fingertip nudging into the lobe. “Sometimes I feel like I should be more worried when you set up these wide-open relationship moments with me, but… eh. You know how to pick ‘em.”

“I do. I picked you too, after all.”

Harry laughed deeply and rumbled. For being “Harry,” he was in pretty good spirits. Though, that might only last for as long as his conflicting memories and modes didn’t see anything wrong with the whole Garthas situation. Teryx would take the win while he had it… and, maybe say another name, soon. (At the mere thought, his slug-like compulsions crackled in the depths of his heavily programmed brain.)

…But, not yet. There was still more “normal,” upright snuggling to do. He wanted this experience.

The tiger’s tail curled around Teryx’s right leg and up along his rear as the phone got put away. The rain dragon teased the tail base and lower, feeling up Harry’s rump again through his shorts, and pressed his abs in on the small of the tiger’s back.

Whatever his mindset, this guy was so literally hot. Very warm-natured, quite the contrast to the fridge-dragon who was presumably slow-wanking himself in some secret crew quarters right now while one of the aliens soaked up the results. The thought of this, too, would have made Teryx develop a stiffy against Harry’s spine, if not for that pesky brain-block that was keeping him from popping an erection at all.

Teryx [i]really[/i] hoped they’d be able to find Commodore again soon; Harry’s own needs aside, Teryx didn’t want to be stuck in a mode of either power-bottoming or servicing other guys for too much longer.

The sun on their faces was nice in the meantime. In the morning, the ocean water would glisten in a way that was just fantastic, like looking out over the biggest lake ever.

Harry seemed to be relaxing at the sight. Teryx could feel his breathing and pulse being not merely normal, but calm -- that kind of restful but alert state that was good to have going in the bedroom shortly before a big turn-on.

“So… worth the price of admission?” Teryx asked him, rubbing down his thigh.

Too much his normal self right now NOT to spoil the moment, Harry grinned big and snarked, “Hey, I can get your [i]blue[/i] self grinding up on me anywhere. No need to pay big money for a cruise if that’s the game.”

Teryx playfully shook the tiger’s shoulders and then ran a hand suggestively up under his chin. “Silly, I mean the sun, and the water!”

“[b]Hrrrll[/b], we have [i]that[/i] on land too…”

“You’re the [i]worst[/i],” Teryx laughed.

“No, [i]you[/i],” Harry teased back, pressing his butt on Teryx’s groin. “Had me here for a whole day, almost, and we haven’t even gone to the gym to wrestle.”

“Wrestling is [i]also[/i] something we can do at home,” said Teryx, happy to use the tiger’s argument against him.

“Fine, I’ll look out over the water at your sissy sunlight, Mr. Gold-mane boy.”

Definitely more of the old Harry. Indeed, it seemed like “Kitty” and “Hunter” were on the wane. He was getting [i]more[/i] guarded and not less. Maybe the talk about Garthas had subconsciously reminded him how “constructed” their relationship was… or, maybe this was just the tide and cycling of his neurology.

In any case, maybe there was still some room here for good-old-fashioned dragon feistiness.

Teryx stroked up Harry’s chest, holding a palm over the heart and raking fingers through the fur -- leaning in on Harry while the tiger acquiesced and looked out over the bow, watching the light glistening upon the rolling sea.

“See? It’s pretty,” declared Teryx. “You aren’t [i]nearly[/i] tin-hearted enough to say otherwise. You have the soul of a man! Of a person who’s alive!” He made two small knocking motions on the tiger’s ribs, as if to literally knock on the door to Harry’s heart.

Harry cracked up laughing at the idea. “What the hell is wrong with you?” he asked, but it was clear he didn’t mean it. It was true: there was something real there for Harry. [i]As real as love between these meat-puppets could ever be.[/i]

Harry stared to the horizon thoughtfully and squeezed Teryx’s hand again. “You know… it’s not as pretty as you.”

A cold, alien distantness combined with Teryx’s snider draconic traits to bring out some just-for-fun pedantry. He leaned in closer and nibbled at Harry’s ear, before whispering in correction, “The sun is pretty. I’m [i]handsome[/i].”

Harry’s hint of romance was replaced with grump. “Tomato, to-dragon,” he grunted, cupping a hand over Teryx’s wrist and squeezing [i]there[/i] instead. “You’ll hear me say ‘pretty’ n’ like it.”

Teryx chuckled. “But you know how handsome I am. No reason to get the word wrong.”

“Maybe I like getting a rise out of you.”

“Haha, maybe~”

If only Harry realized how few of the cards he held right now. The poor guy was playing with an imaginary hand. Even so, there was something intriguing about it. [i]Were[/i] those genuine feelings? Did Harry really deem him ‘pretty’ in that sunny-effeminate way? Was that a good thing from Harry’s viewpoint? It sounded like it, but could he be sure? Once again, Teryx wanted to crawl inside of him and suss out everything, probing his neurons like an experimental switchboard… but, no, that was something that only Commodore and the others could do. Not just his phantom within Teryx’s brain.

The fact Teryx kept experiencing this mindset, once again with Commodore [i]in absentia[/i], brought him a perverse satisfaction. This gently twisted version of himself was like an empty suit, ready for Commodore to slip in at any time. It must surely be his particular kinks talking, but the notion was unbearably hot and also ego-stroking. Chosen to be worn like this, his neurons shaped like this, every process cultivated toward the optimal blend of servitude and self-aware spunkiness.

Feeling a bit like an alien spectating about his own kind, Teryx wondered about the slugs’ long-term prospects. If they really managed to spread to more and more people -- a process that would soon become exponential in scope -- what would that eventually do to the world? Moreover, given their propensity to be affected by their hosts, what would that do to [i]the slugs[/i]? What beauties and horrors would this strange symbiosis create? What artfully curated host-shells?

He nibbled up Harry’s neck, regarding him like a piece of meat to be filled by a smarter controlling influence. It was definitionally disrespectful to think of him like that, but it was normal for what this side of the dragon had become. He found himself craving, more and more, to control this tiger. Not merely to make him “normal,” but make him [i]work right[/i]. Optimize. If it’s already broken, [i]break it more until it’s repaired[/i]… or, at the least, still-broken, but in the most arousing ways possible…

Teryx had an amusing thought and decided to act on it. Putting a veneer of romance back on over the chilliness of his alien mindset, he smiled and pointed at the railing. “Step up on the lower rungs for me.”

This was a bridge too far for the tiger. “Okay, we do NOT stand on the railing. I am [i]not[/i] going to become that guy who falls down and ends up in a Fails video.”

Teryx, grinning so broadly that every was fang showing, was insistent: “Put a foot up~ come on, [i]kitty[/i]~”

The name hit Harry hard. Teryx could almost feel the submissiveness knob in Harry’s brain getting turned, drifting from standoffish jock toward blossoming sub.

“I… don’t know [i]why[/i] I trust you,” the tiger grumbled, his mind seeming to strain as “Kitty” mental processes started unpacking themselves like a computer virus into the stream of his consciousness.

Teryx smirked but said nothing as Harry lifted one paw experimentally onto the lowest rung of the railing. Then there was a small [b]creaaaaak[/b] of protest as the tiger tested putting his whole weight down upon it. Upon hearing the noise, he relaxed his weight back down to the foot on the deck.

“You… you [i]sure[/i] this thing is rated for tiger?” Harry’s voice was softening, growing more dependent in tone. His mannerisms were also getting shakier.

Teryx sniffed and turned his snout from the sight of the wimpy rail. “Apparently, [i]beef storage trucks[/i] like yourself are too heavy for it.”

“Yeaaah, I [i]am[/i] pretty dense.” The sentence’s implications hung in the air for a moment, and he corrected it: “Dense with [i]muscle[/i], ya know.”

“Sure,” said Teryx, with a suppressed snicker.

The Kitty-infused Harry pouted. “I don’t get it [i]anyway[/i]… what’s the point of me getting up in the breeze like that?”

Teryx chuckled, “Oh, [i]Hunter[/i], don’t you remember?”

With [i]that[/i] keyword, the lingering parts of Harry’s workaday persona cracked open like an old clay pot. His whole body tensed, then shuddered -- eyes going wild with the stress of some unseen cause for panic.

It might be a little mean to do this so often, but watching Harry mentally transform on a dime like this was [i]still[/i] giving Teryx more of that rush he had been craving. If Teryx couldn’t be the one getting his mind and body hard-manipulated by Commodore’s slithering wiles, pushing the programmed buttons of another slug’s handiwork was clearly the next best thing. It was like Harry’s entire being was a cleverly disguised cock that he could stroke off with the proper use of words and touch, and it was good for their cause if the tiger endured such usage.

[i]Their cause[/i]. The idea gave Teryx a different kind of elation that he didn’t feel too often. Though he loved interacting with others, he was usually one to [i]ground[/i] his enjoyment in the image of who and what [i]he[/i] was, more so than in some grand idea of a collective group or nation. However, when he thought of the slugs spreading out like mints in a garden, running their infestive roots into every suitable patch of soil….

No, not mints; the slugs were so much [i]more[/i] invasive. They were like cosmic [i]bamboo[/i]. The very thought that they would get into everything and everyone sent a jolt of elation through him that approached the intensity of orgasm, even though it was different in quality. It was like a national pride-gasm for a country that didn’t exist, or didn’t exist [i]yet[/i], and it made Teryx exhale deeply with the breeze before pulling a deep draw of fresh air. How fitting that he had managed to activate part of his own programming in a cascade from triggering Harry’s!

The mindset-shifted tiger was on high alert, looking intently toward the horizon with his ears trained. He put less of his weight than before on the railing but kept that paw firmly elevated, exuding the attentiveness of a lookout.

Good. Just as Teryx suspected, “Hunter” would be more athletically coordinated and responsive, while still listening to his commands. If he was going to get Harry to climb up on the rails and pose romantically -- which, yes, was Teryx’s [i]entire endgame[/i] here -- this was the best version of Harry to do it.

“Why is there so much water?” Harry wondered in a whisper.

“We’re traveling,” Teryx whispered back, reaching up with both arms to fondle around the tiger’s waist. It was soothing to hold his firm muscles while they were tensed like this… he was like a statue of warm [i]man[/i], the fur so soft but the meat so firm…

“I don’t see any attackers,” said Harry.

That was curious. Nuzzling at Harry’s back, Teryx asked him, “Hmm, why would there be~?”

“You needn’t test me,” said the deluded tiger. “I know perfectly well that if we lower our guard the Spinespear tribe will charge through and [i]claim[/i] anyone they can.”

Teryx felt up higher, teasing the tiger’s nipples. “Pinning you down and using you…”

“[b]Hhrrr[/b], absolutely.” Harry took a sharp breath and didn’t seem to realize why at first. Then he rationalized it: “Sir, please… if you have needs, let us wait until--”

“Keep your eyes on the horizon, Hunter. Spread your arms.” When Harry did so, Teryx growled erotically and nibbled up the tiger’s back, lightly pinching the skin through the fur. The tiger tail swayed quickly in response, curling around Teryx’s hips and lower.

“Ahh… S-Sir wishes for me to watch while he enjoys…”

“That’s right.” Teryx enfolded his arms around Harry’s solar plexus. “Feel the breeze. Keep your watch. Let me enjoy you while you are on duty.”

Harry chuckled as he felt the wind flow through his fingers. “I feel as if I am being attacked by some affectionate beast of the jungle.”

Was that sarcasm? From “Hunter”? Teryx liked it. “Careful~ keep those arms up and that tail of yours moving, or the beast might turn [i]aggressive[/i].”

“If that is what the beast wants…” murmured Harry.

Teryx felt the bulge in the tiger’s shorts. It was nice to get to corrupt a romantic moment like this: Harry’s arms spread over the bow, lust fueling Teryx, both of them twisted by their strong neurological conditioning. It would have been a cheesy romance-movie pose, but now it was a monument to their infesters’ silent power.

Teryx heard something behind him -- glanced, but it was just one of the crew moving on. No gawkers. No one outing them as alien slug-hosts. Just as it should be.

Still, Teryx was feeling a little less alien… a little more nervous. Perhaps this bout of being so strongly at one with Commodore’s mindset was coming to an end -- high tide, and now low tide.

Despite that… even more as “Teryx,” he felt things. The cravings didn’t turn off like a light.

But he craved them as Teryx… the host body.

The rain dragon slurped suggestively against the tiger’s spine and upward, grooming the fur a bit. It was surreal not being able to get stiff during a time like this. He felt all of the usual passion and sexual hunger, the faucet of that flow getting turned on wider and wider as he indulged in the motions of acting out his lust, but there was nothing happening down below. Instead he was left with this fire-charged romance, with Harry’s changed state and tenting erection serving as his outlet by proxy.

Perhaps this depth of externalized longing was a truer specter of what it felt like to be Commodore. Lacking functional apparatus for various things -- needing to outsource them through someone else’s flesh, even while very actively [i]managing[/i] it. Though, Commodore and his kind also required the host to process such basic things as self-image.

He thought again about the lack of a slug-body. If Teryx only had the form of a tiny slug, wouldn’t it be nice to slip inside of a hunk like Harry and identify with that shape? Wouldn’t it be… safer, nicer, to slide inside that body like warm, intimate armor?

The way he was thinking about it wasn’t alien enough, but it was still hot, and that was really the important part for now. The growing amorousness between the two was charging them both up for encounters to come later. They still needed to get with Garthas, after all…

A quiet cough from a lynx sailor who had crept up nearby broke them both from this latest erotic reverie. The gent looked at them, then swept his gaze back toward a large family who were wandering their way, as if to suggest that the public display of affection [i]might[/i] be getting out of hand.

Teryx looked to the approaching family with understanding -- nodded and winked to the lynx, motioning for the tiger to get down. The sailor nodded curtly and moved along.

“Worth it,” the dragon murmured.

Interestingly, Harry’s defensive workplace persona had toggled back on in an instant upon noticing their being scrutinized by a third party. “I dunno, that was [i]pretty gay[/i], if I’m honest.”

“Oh? Is it gay when you bend over and I plough your rear like it’s a garden?”

“Like I’ve told you a million times, there’s nothing wrong with dudes banging dudes. I just don’t want any artsy-fartsy, airy-fairy crap. ‘Feel the wind on your nipples, Harry, let the wind [i]speak[/i] to your areolas!’ Gods.”

Teryx chuckled. That was [i]so much funnier[/i] knowing the truth of the multiple layers of submissive male that lurked under that gruff exterior.

“Then I guess you won’t enjoy it even if I tell you that you’re a [i]good kitty[/i], will you?”

Harry shivered, looking like his brain had just frozen. He then cupped a hand to his forehead and grimaced.

“Guh, I don’t feel so good,” he complained.

Er, that wasn’t supposed to be the response. Teryx frowned, suggesting, “Probably queasy from that stunt of ours.”

“Ugh… not queasy, but…” he vaguely waved the large mitt of his right hand, shaking his head. “Let’s just take it slower on the way back.”

Teryx duly noted that whiplashing the programming between modes like this had some [i]definite[/i] limitations when there wasn’t a slug around to mediate the necessary chemical changes. Harry’s brain was still [i]trying[/i] to obey, but some needed resources weren’t there anymore.

“Let’s get a drink,” Teryx offered.

“Yeah, refreshers,” agreed Harry. “Gods… and can you [i]stop[/i] talking about fucking me while we’re on the deck?” Despite his grumpy tone, there was a note of [i]interest[/i].

“Oh? Does good kitty like the idea of getting bent over the railing and watching the sea go by while his rain dragon--”

“[i]Quit[/i] it…” Harry had shut his eyes and was rubbing one temple. “You’re making me [i]way too horny[/i] for how bad I feel.”

Teryx smirked. “Sorry~! I’ll keep that in mind, dear kitty.”

“Hmph, you [i]better[/i].”

Well, saying “kitty” more didn’t seem to be making him noticeably worse, at least.

More slowly and quietly, they ambled back to look for a nice watering hole.

* * *

Along the way up the length of the ship, Teryx continued to notice that the name “Kitty” wasn’t invoking the same strength of submission as before. Harry felt out of sorts, and no amount of calling him “kitty” would work around that. All tapped out, Teryx supposed.

Teryx considered that “Hunter” might still be usable to force the tiger back into the anxiously vigilant persona -- if only because it hadn’t been used quite as often today as “kitty” had -- but he didn’t want to push his luck for now.

“This queue is gods-awful,” Harry complained while wiping his brow as they stood in a line of twenty-some people near a sunbathing area. They were hitting up a small refreshment stand that had alcoholic options.

Teryx noticed Askim the GSD up ahead of them. Off-duty, by the look of him. It gave Teryx a flicker of hope that he might be able to get Commodore to correct this neural boner-blockage.

“I notice this liner is pretty casual about letting off-duty staff and crew hang out in passenger areas,” said Teryx, as if to change the subject for the sake of distraction. “Good on them. Even more pleasant views to take in.”

“Lawsuits waiting to happen, honestly,” said Harry pessimistically. “You get anyone even a little off their best behavior, and that’s bye-bye reputation. Why [i]did[/i] we pick this liner, anyway? Didn’t their company [i]already[/i] get sued for some kind of sexual harassment thing lately?”

Teryx scoffed in good humor. “Now since when [i]don’t[/i] you like to be sexually harassed?”

“Ha-[b]rumph[/b],” grunted the tiger, putting a growly emphasis on the latter syllable. “All I’m saying is it’s sorta bad form, and--”

Askim was nodding to the person at the counter and circling around, carrying two drinks.

Teryx soon realized the dog was heading for [i]them[/i]. Directly toward. Askim looked personable, if a little… stiff. He was now wearing a pair of red shorts reminiscent of lifeguard attire (though they didn’t appear to [i]be[/i] such), plus a white tank top -- a good deal less formal than his masseuse attire.

The dog’s brown-furred hands reached out to the dragon and tiger simultaneously, presenting an iced drink to each.

“You look thirsty,” Askim said to them both, his voice polite but checked-out, like he didn’t really comprehend what he was doing, or for whom.

Despite this, the drink offered to Teryx was a whiskey sour cocktail: a favorite of his that he had, eerily enough, been planning on requesting. Harry, in contrast, was offered water with lemon, though in fairness it was likely that the tiger [i]needed[/i] more hydration as a refresher after the slight brain-melt he had been suffering.

“Thank you!” said Teryx cordially as he took his drink and sipped it. The flavor profile hit the spot perfectly.

“Remember to keep your electrolytes up,” the shepherd added helpfully to Harry. “You can find salty snacks through the shorter line over there.” He then pointed to a smaller queue for what was more specifically a snack stand. Not having to mix anything, it was churning through approachers quicker.

“Thanks,” said a cautious Harry, taking a sip and glancing at Teryx, as if to ask whether he [i]really[/i] knew this guy.

“Askim, by the way,” Teryx said in introduction to the tiger. “Askim, [i]Harry[/i].”

The shep made an oddly dopey wide-lipped smile and let his tongue flop as he panted twice, his nostrils flaring as he took in Harry’s scent and shook his hand. “Pleased to meet you. I’m a good boy.” The sentence was uttered deadpan, with neither shyness nor excitement, falling into an uncanny valley as far as canine expressiveness was concerned.

They peeled away from the queue at that point; Harry headed to get some pretzels to munch on, while Teryx took Askim aside. After another sip of the drink, Teryx queried, “Er, do you happen to know where the Commodore of this ship might be?”

Askim, strangely glassy-eyed at the question, panted twice more and shook his head. “Making the rounds. Enjoy your stay!”

With that, the dog wandered off, leaving Teryx to stare a bit and wonder. Askim’s walk mostly looked “fine” but lacked the full enthusiasm of a living person, which made him wonder if Commodore had done some sort of rush-job on making him effectively sleepwalk around the ship, before bailing for a more-desired host. But, if that was the case, it would mean Commodore didn’t leave an offspring in him, wouldn’t it? He wondered why, or if perhaps he was misreading things…

Teryx didn’t feel quite as sluggy, himself, anymore. He supposed his brain, likewise, wasn’t immune to running out of resources for “slug.exe” if he kept trying to do it without the slug present.

The rain dragon noticed Askim’s shorts pocket vibrating as he left. The dog took out his phone, apparently having received a text, and walked briskly without replying, as though heading off to take care of something urgent. Teryx wasn’t sure where he was going, and he doubted he was going to get a satisfying answer even if he chased the shepherd down, so he let it be.

Teryx reunited with Harry soon afterward -- spent some time thoughtfully sipping his drink and swirling the glass, while looking out over the railing. Harry was munching with increasing aggression on his pretzels, as if trying to treat the breaded product like mangleable prey. Anytime he could, he would make an exaggerated [b]crunch[/b] with them, as if to snap a small bone.

Perhaps there was a bit of “Hunter” in him all along. Though, that would make sense -- right? The persona came from [i]somewhere[/i].

Presently, three adult male bottlenose dolphins wandered by and stood at the railing, before turning in near-unison to look over at Teryx and Harry.

The rain dragon was unnerved by this at first, but then felt an odd sense of… [i]rapport[/i] with them, once he was looking them in the eyes.

Wait, was this a rerun of what had just happened with Askim?

Teryx stopped short of assuming they were hosts, but they were looking at him sort of… protectively? It wasn’t like they were sizing him up; it was like they knew exactly who he was and wanted to make sure he was all right.

The dolphins seemed to notice he was onto them and started talking about unrelated topics and looking over the area. The eldest of the three went to queue up at the snack booth, and Teryx listened quietly while the younger men went on with one another about some mobile game they both played with [i]gachapon[/i] mechanics, with one of them complaining that he had recently blown most of his free-to-play currency on trying to get a certain character.

By the talk’s end, the other younger male was saying, “Well, it’s all pixels anyway. I’m more envious of the people who get to collect ‘rares’ in real life.”

“[i]Agreed[/i],” said the other, in a pointed tone that made Teryx wonder. “Priceless originals n’ shit. [i]That’s[/i] something to really be proud of.”

Then they both glanced [i]over[/i] him, not [i]at[/i] him, and did some kind of whistling giggle that was probably culture-bound to their community.

Their older companion -- now presumed to be their dad, based on body language and general interaction -- returned soon after and tossed plastic-wrapped tuna snack packs to them, which the two promptly tore open and began emptying into their gullets. Then they talked about wanting to go get suited up for a swim and made their way down in the direction Teryx and Harry had come from earlier.

More quickly downing the rest of his drink, Teryx thought about that. He was pretty sure people -- probably [i]brothers[/i] -- didn’t have random conversations about the philosophical merits of [i]gacha[/i] games in public like that too often.

Though if his theory was correct, they might have been [i]intending[/i] for him to catch on.

Still, he didn’t want to get in the weeds with this theorizing; he’d just have to ask them--

[b]Vibrate, vibrate[/b]. Teryx’s phone wanted a word with him.

It was from Garthas. It was nothing but an eggplant emoji.

Teryx texted back, [i]May I help you?[/i]

Immediately: [i]hey are you somewhere private[/i]

Teryx: [i]I can be.[/i]

Garthas: [i]k. well don’t look at your texts again until you are.[/i]

Teryx smirked and pocketed his phone leaving the now-emptied drink on a table for pickup by the staff. A vibration followed shortly after. Teryx guided Harry away and up further along their path toward the secret hangout. When they had a little shade and no one nearby, Teryx pulled it out to find the entirely expected dick-pic from Garthas.

Holy hell, it was a hand-filler, and then some! He sort of already knew that, but… “energy drink can” was probably the closest analogy he could immediately place. Wider though, going toward “normal” can sizes on the girth. A long, pronounced vein snaked its way along the right side of the dark blue foreskin, with an ice-blue tip that was already raging hard and exposed from its retracted protector. His abs and naked thighs were also in the shot. A tight bead of white pre was on the tip, plus some clear and visible coating from what had come before. The pale bluish-gray sack of his testicles was pinned between his thighs, that cock, and some sort of presumed seating, though the view was too close-up to make out much.

Teryx wrote back, [i]you know it’s hot out here, i could use a nice popsicle[/i].

Garthas replied with the map pic again, followed only by a smiley.

Teryx had to be a little cheeky: [i]no hurry, though, right[/i].

Garthas answered with three eggplant emojis, and left it to Teryx to interpret that as he would.

The rain dragon slurped his own snout and pecked a kiss onto Harry’s nose.

“The heck,” wondered the tiger, who had been polite enough not to snoop on Teryx’s phone. “Someone got you all horny all of a sudden.” Teasingly, but still a little jealous, he added, “Ever think to maybe let that someone be your boyfriend?”

Not great. Harry’s discombobulated persona had lost track of the fact it was “supposed” to be okay with Teryx initiating flings with random people. Teryx thought on his feet and decided to see if his earlier hunch was correct.

“Don’t you pout,” replied a smiling Teryx. “We’re nearly at the fun place. [i]Hunter[/i].”

Harry jolted into the mode, looking around in confusion and seeming to wonder where he even was.

Good, the name worked. ‘Kitty’ was on cooldown, but ‘Hunter’ still had a bit more to give. Maybe this way Teryx could still bring Harry with him.

“Don’t say a word,” Teryx told him in a hushed tone, again adopting the role of superior tribe member. “You need to come with me, [i]act natural[/i], but also be Hunter. Understand? We have to sneak through a dangerous place together.”

Harry blinked and seemed to understand the assignment. His only reply was a curt but acknowledging nod.

Admittedly, Teryx [i]also[/i] wanted to spend a little more time with whichever piece of Harry’s psyche had tried to mangle those pretzels, and he hoped that by pushing the “normal” and “Hunter” buttons in close proximity he might get that as a happy side effect. This felt slightly experimental, but also not dangerous.

Happily, there was no freakout from the tiger as they went along. If anything, his reactions seemed suitably mellower than a full and fresh “Hunter” reaction would have been. He was content to follow Teryx’s lead for the time being, sort of prowling around behind him while the dragon took point against whatever unseen “threats” might lie ahead.

Teryx felt a deep, yet somehow dull, sense of reward. [i]Collect them, optimize them to purpose, wear them and be them, and make more of ourselves…[/i]

The alien thoughts came suddenly, accompanied by euphoria -- and then faded just as fast. He doubted he’d be able to hold onto the fuller Commodore mindset now, but he would savor the bits of it that remained.

Those emotions, which he knew were meant for Commodore to experience through his brain’s circuits… those emotions were delicious.

Indeed, the more Teryx experienced this mental “husk” of himself, the more he found craving to feel it more often. That droning urge for control, and the beats of satisfaction that came with its pursuit… letting himself think like one of them. The slugs wore him routinely, but could he in some sense wear them in return?

Was being one of the infested [i]inherently[/i] a two-way relationship, just as being roommates with someone always inevitably was?

Even if that roommate was a neurochemical super-hypnotist, and [i]very[/i] small.

Small, yet capable of infiltrating large and hunky vessels….

He thought fondly of Garthas. Perhaps their newly acquired icy puppet would be the key to getting his relief… regardless of whether that took the form of ejaculation, or the sheer satisfaction of watching a fellow dragon be controlled.

Teryx smiled, enjoying Harry’s obedient company as they headed for their date with the frigid dragon.