Date: Thu, 6 Oct 2011 11:10:43 -0400
From: Toni Daring <tonidaring@yahoo.com>
Subject: Awakening, Part 2

Awakening, Part 2

by Toni Daring


Author's Note - This is the continuation of a sequel to a story that isn't
mine, and it uses characters and situations that I did not create.
Halliday Dasker, the world of Halivarr, and the Havilarri people are the
creation of Andrew "Aethan" French, author of a story titled "Treasure
Freely Given", that I stumbled upon while searching for naughty "cabin boy
/ pirate" stories on the Internet. His captain, cruiser, crew and their
mission are somewhat different. They appear here, somewhat altered to
better suit my own tale, with his kind permission.

This is a work of fiction.  The author does not endorse the biological
uplifting of non-sapient animals for the purpose of engineering a new
species to be sexual servitors of another, neither does he support actual
piracy in outer space or elsewhere. These elements, where present, are
there purely for the purposes of entertainment. Likewise, sexual acts in
actual gunnery turrets are probably best avoided in real life.



		*            		*            		*


Halivarr, I am told by those who have been there but mostly lived
elsewhere, is a beautiful world of dramatic, rocky highlands carved through
with lush, verdant valleys by streams that fall in gentle cascades to the
blue coral beaches of warm, shallow seas. I had lived inland, and the
settlement in which my parents lived and where I was raised was in a
relatively unglamorous agricultural zone, nowhere near the resorts and
pleasure-warrens around Halivarr Downport, which is the Halivarr most
off-worlders seem to know of. Still, my home had been in a wide, fertile
valley, and the sounds of free-running water and scents of green, growing
things were commonplaces that I had not missed until my first starship
voyage.

Those of you who have already read my account of that voyage, which was
intended to see me safely to my enrollment as a cadet at the Scout Service
Academy on Phojla but instead saw me kidnapped by (depending on who you
ask) pirates or resistance-fighters, will already know that I'd had many
distractions, too many for me to really miss such things. In fact, it was
only when I found myself at ease with the smell of live plants and the
sounds of flowing water around me that I knew I had been homesick for them.
Doctor Courangara, whose quarters I was in, probably did know, and had
asked me to see him there with that in mind. He's the sort who thinks of
things like that.

Those who haven't read about my adventures so far might wish they had, but
I'll explain just a bit for those who, for whatever reason, don't have
access to those parts of my story in their databanks or can't resolve the
texts on their flec-readers (as I am told some worlds limit access to the
kind of story which that was, and which this one is going to turn into
pretty quickly here). My name is Halliday Dasker, captain's mate on the
renegade Starcruiser Gvadakoungg. Unlike its Vargyr captain and crew, I am
Halivarri.

Like many but no means all sapient races in the known Galaxy, we Halivarri
had been created long ago through genetic manipulation of non-sentient
animal species by the agency called by Human theorists "the Ancients" and
by Vargyr theologians "the Maker". Who or whatever was responsible chose to
alter the reproductive instincts and function of the Halivarri, in what
Humans tend to view as a perverse sociological experiment and some Vargyr
regard as the Maker demonstrating Its favor toward another of its
"uplifted" creations: the Vargyr. This is because one of the things that
the Maker had done when altering our instincts, urges and forms was to make
us Halivarri instinctually receptive to Vargyr dominance. But more about
that later.

I was in Doctor Courangara's quarters to discuss my reactions to the rest
of the "genetic imperative" that, being a healthy adolescent Halivarri
male, I had begun to experience.  And it is typical of my adventures over
the few days I had been learning to handle this that I found myself in the
position I was in where my last account left off. Namely, purring softly
with my head resting against the Rakashah doctor's soft-furred chest where
his silken dressing-gown left this bare, my legs asplay to straddle his
own, my tail stroking slowly along his inner thighs and my bottom pressed
snug against the unmistakable bulge of his silk-covered, Rakashah-sized
maleness. Rakashah are large.

"So, Dasker," the doctor spoke into my ear with a basso purr that made me
shiver and squirm in his lap, bringing me out of a long, silent reverie
with a blush as I felt his sex stir and swell beneath me. "We have
discussed the manner in which your Halivarri, ah, ...gifts express
themselves through the body, but we ought not to overlook the mind - Which
brings us to the predilections of my own race." I shivered again, and
Doctor Courangara laid a heavy paw on my hip to still me. "Tell me, Dasker,
what do you know of my people?  What tales are told of us on your
Halivarr?"

What little I did know of Rakashah - another Made Race, in their case from
a massive apex-predator species of carnivore-pouncer stock - I had learned
mostly during my years in Guides, tales we swapped on nights spent in the
high meadows under the stars, as we looked out on our Galaxy and all its
myriad of worlds.  Such nights had been magical to me, and had in their own
way determined me to enroll in the Scout Survey and Courier Corps
Academy. Those nights had also presaged other developments, and I blushed
again as I found myself recalling those first fumbling explorations with
other Halivarri boys. It took me a moment to recall I had been asked a
question, and another to begin to answer it, but Doctor Courangara was
patient.

"On Halivarr, it is told that the Rakashah were made by the Ancients to be
an army for a war against their own kind.  That in learning the purpose for
which they had been Made, they turned on the Maker, and won. They say that
if the Rakashah had not thereafter refused to engage in the Arts of War,
they would have conquered known space.  They say that in your chosen
seclusion on your Seven Worlds, you have mastered strange powers..."

Here I trailed off, as Doctor Courangara rumbled beneath me with a low
chuckle, more felt than heard, which made my tail toss and squirm. "And
where did you hear such tales, Dasker?" The doctor's voice was soft,
intimate. "If you don't mind telling?" I smelled dry grasses, underscoring
the scent of young Halivarri boys naked in the cool night breezes as the
doctor's heavy paw flexed on my hip, stilling me when I shifted on his lap.

"Oh, in Guides... We always talked of the out-world things we'd heard of,
and what we'd do when we were old enough..." Somehow my thoughts kept
turning to what we had found we were already old enough to do together.
Fires were dangerous in the high country when the grasses were dry, and we
had found other ways to keep warm. The Rakashah's chest fur under my cheek
was as soft as a Halivarri boy's thigh, but the scent was different. I
found myself nestling close to explore that difference, as Doctor
Courangara breathed his next question against my neck.

"And are those still the things you want to do, Dasker?" I shivered and
shifted my seat, and this time the doctor didn't still me.  "Yes..." I
replied, blushing a bit as I realized he meant becoming a Scout, not how I
had spent those nights in Guides, which is the question I had instinctively
answered. I felt another rumbling chuckle and the rear seam of my shipman's
pants slid across my quivering tail hole as the panel drew taut in front
from my straining arousal. Beneath me, I felt Doctor Courangara's massive
maleness swell a bit further.  I bit my lip, imagining where this seemed to
be heading.

"No, Dasker... at least not at this time," said the doctor, his heavy paw
at my hip prolonging my squirm into a motion to meet a lazy arch of his
hips that made me gasp. "Our bodies are sufficiently disparate in size that
I will not pursue such activities, until I determine I can do so without
risking injury to you." This was perfectly reasonable, but not what I
wanted to hear.  Only a heartbeat or two later did I realize the Rakashah
had spoken to something I had thought, rather than said. "For now, it is
sufficiently pleasurable for me to evoke fond memories. Yes, I feel the
emotive content most distinctly.  Fascinating."

"Er, how do you mean?" I asked.  I wasn't sure how truthful the wilder
accounts I'd head of Rakashah were, but some said that they could read
minds, and more. I wondered how much of my wandering thoughts the doctor
had been privy to, but decided I didn't much mind him knowing. It was a lot
more embarrassing to know he knew what sitting in his lap was beginning to
make me itch for. Just as I was about to curl up and expire from mixed
mortification and raging desire, both feelings receded to the point where
the soft sounds of the fountain and the green scents of the cane-grass and
dwarf trees allowed me to gather some much needed tranquility.

"Your pardon, Dasker, for invading your privacy.  I will admit my curiosity
regarding your case got the better of me and, in spite of what you may have
heard about my people, we are by no means mystical celibates untouched by
desires of the flesh.  But pleasures of the mind are far harder to resist.
And your Halivarri mind is, I would have you know, signaling your instincts
and impulses quite loudly, although I perceive this is involuntary, as well
as occurring without your knowledge."

It took me some time to understand this, and I started to frame a question,
but Doctor Courangara answered before I could quite find the words. "Yes,
you broadcast your arousal on a subliminal level.  To Vargyr, who
communicate a great deal nonverbally in any case, this simply feels like
their own excitement, heightening their response to the physical and
chemical signals we discussed earlier and lowering their social inhibitions
to a certain degree."  I followed all of this well enough, but it raised
other questions. Unnervingly, Doctor Courangara began to answer these
before I could ask them.

"I know that much because I dispensed with the usual screening disciplines
by which I maintain my own mental privacy so that I could experience the
phenomenon directly. In so doing, I was affected to a greater degree than I
had anticipated, hence the liberties which, under other circumstances, I
should not have taken with a patient. But as matters stand, I was able to
determine that you are also sensitive to erotically charged empathogens on
a deep-brain level, in fact your psionic armamentarium seems to be largely
medullar..."

I must have gone a bit slack-jawed attempting to follow all this, because
Doctor Courangara apologized. "Your pardon, Dasker, I forget myself.  What
this means for you is that the function is instinctive and unconscious, and
it is doubtful you could ever bring it under intentional, conscious
direction."

Here he paused, and I looked up to see him looking at me with warm, amber
eyes.  Something of his detachment conveyed itself to me, and I was content
to wait for him to continue. In spite of everything that had and had not
happened, I was still inclined to trust him. After a long, thoughtful
moment, he continued.

"Nor do I think that artificial shielding would be beneficial to your
development at this stage. but neither will the anxiety you seem to be
experiencing. Which reminds me," he said, looking away long enough to
toggle a nearby screen to show an extremely technical readout that I could
not make much of at all, "You seem hardly to have made use of the
medication I dispensed for that.  Just as well, perhaps. In light of what I
now know, I think I might change the prescription, if you think it might
help to be consciously aware of the psychic influences at play?" Heavy,
padded fingertips, each showing just the tip of a retractile claw, caressed
the interface as the doctor calculated the formula.

"Well, I suppose knowing is better than not knowing..." I offered.  Truth
be told, I had mostly avoided taking the microtablets that Doctor
Courangara had offered me the previous morning because I was worried that
they would impair my judgment, or otherwise interfere with the responses I
was adjusting to. This, at least, sounded like it might help me have some
control.

"Very well... but remember they do no good at all unless you take them,
Dasker.  I assure you, there are no untoward side-effects, and many
benefits, so do not hesitate to use them.  Your wrist unit, here, Dasker."
I blushed, lifting my hand from where I had unconsciously been stroking the
silk that covered one heavily muscled thigh, and placed my wrist on the
console.  I saw a number of tiny pink pills ejected into a receptacle,
which sank out of sight as a separate tubule shot a number of equally small
blue pills in to replace them. "There you go, Dasker. We will see how you
do with those. Medical monitoring will dispense them when your status
indicates they are needed."

I interpreted this to be an order to take the medicine when it was
dispensed, and promised to do so. "And should I come back if..."

"Come back if you need anything Dasker - including company.  Do not neglect
your gymnasium exercises, nor your massage session.  In the meantime, I
will pursue my own research." He said this last with one of his wintery
little smiles, as if it were a joke I were meant to get, as he lifted me
bodily from his lap and set me on my feet.

"Research?" I asked, attempting to make myself fit less conspicuously in my
shipman's pants, but mostly just sliding the slick, clinging fabric around.

"Regarding the capacity of your adolescent Halivarr anatomy, Dasker, to
accommodate the... shall we say... proportionately larger endowment of a
mature Rakashah male?" He gave a rather lingering pat to my bottom, and
smiled in a way that made me blush and look elsewhere.

My eyes dropped, first to Doctor Courangara's massive, velvet paw at the
console, then to the silk-shrouded prominence between his thighs as his paw
moved down to smooth his robe in a way that made it plain just how big he
was. A damasked dragon crawled its length as he breathed.  My eyes found
his again, and a shiver ran town my back to set my tail tossing between my
thighs.

"Your wrist unit is blinking," said the doctor in a faintly amused
tone. "Take your medication, Dasker.  We will resume this discussion
another time."  I knew a dismissal when I heard one, so I licked my wrist
unit where it was offering a blue pill and departed with this dissolving on
my tongue.



 		*            		*            		*


I left Doctor Courangara's quarters, trying to adjust the fit of my uniform
to be a bit less conspicuous, without much success.  But then, it was
beginning to dawn on me that the cut of a shipman's duty whites was meant
to be revealing, though I didn't yet quite understand why. Since at least
one of my readers has written back expressing some confusion from my
earlier description, I think I should explain the uniform again, more
carefully, so you can get a good picture in your mind. Otherwise, if you
imagine me in a regular shirt and pants, a lot of this might not make
sense.

The uniform issued to a crewman on the Starcruiser Gvadakoungg is two
pieces, shirt and pants, both made of some thin, stretchy fabric that is
nearly sheer, doesn't show dirt, and feels dry on the outside when it is
damp - or even sticky, if you know what I mean - on the inside. The fabric
breathes, meaning that body scent (which is important to Vargyr
communication) is transmitted easily through it. So much for the material.
What is harder to describe is the cut.

The shirt has short sleeves that just cover my shoulders to the top of my
biceps, and the trunk of the shirt is cropped high on a line even with
these so it comes down over my chest to end right above my nipples. And I
mean right above: the rough-soft fabric of the rolled hem rubs across them
when I move, or even breathe heavily - which I had been doing pretty often.
So my primary nipples are mostly exposed, and generally excited into little
pink nubs. My lower torso - including my two lower pairs of smaller nipples
- is left bare to just below my waist, where my pants start.

The waist of the pants is like a thick belt, with a ring-shaped port in the
back for my tail to pass through, which grips lightly right at its
base. Below this, the pants are snug all the way down to the calf, where
the flare a bit over ankle-high shipman's boots. The pants don't have a fly
as such.  Instead, the center part is attached by a row of shiny, bronzium
fasteners down either side, fore and aft, so that this panel can be
completely removed to leave my maleness and bottom exposed.  The captain
likes me like that, to see, smell, taste and touch as he pleases, so in
quarters it's my regulation dress.

Even when it is in place, however, the center panel doesn't hide much when
I have much to hide. In back, a carefully tailored seam runs tight along my
cleft to rub against my ring. In front, it supports my sex with enough
stretch so an erection isn't uncomfortable, but enough cling so that it is
visible.  Pretty much all I can do by adjusting myself is decide how this
is displayed.  Even at half-mast, as it were, the cut of the pants seems
like it's designed to make my tackle look big, and having shiny bronzium
buttons to draw the eye framing it on either side, well - I know it's where
I look first at my Vargyr crewmates, who wear the same thing. Mostly,
they're bigger down there.

So I was standing outside Doctor Courangara's quarters with a soother
tablet melting on my tongue, sliding my cock around in my pants which,
naturally, made the back seam rub across my hole.  My thoughts were
wandering back over what the doctor had implied regarding his "research",
and I had momentarily forgotten that I was trying to tuck my erection into
a less obvious position. So, in effect, I was just playing with myself when
I noticed that I had an audience. Vargyr, nearly as big as my captain, and
interested enough in what he was seeing to begin to poke out of his
sheathe.

"Need a hand with that, Hali?"  I blushed, as I finally looked up to see it
was someone I knew - Arrvis, the dark-furred Vargyr from Orngg's work-crew.
He was grinning faintly, showing just a hint of his teeth as he sauntered
over. As he did, he casually brushed along the outline of his own sex under
his uniform pants with a fingertip in a lazy gesture. He had caught me
looking. Damn, I was looking again. I bit my lip, stammered a reply.

"Uh, just trying make adjustments," I explained. "These pants are a bit,
uh, snug..." My tail curled and twitched between my thighs, and Arrvis
reached to stroke along it with the same light touch, guided its tufted end
up to brush against his bulge as he moved in close.

"I had noticed," said Arrvis, angling his hips so I could see his maleness
thicken, sliding another inch from its sheathe. "Sometimes, if its too snug
in front, you can get a little extra room in there by adjusting things in
the back." Still teasing the tip of my tail against his stiffening sex with
one hand, he slipped his other behind me to graze under the base of my tail
with a fingertip. "Let me try?" Close to, his musky, male Vargyr scent rose
around me. I nodded, then uttered a wordless sound as he stroked slowly
down along my cleft. My hips arched involuntarily as his touch brushed
across my ring.

"Yes, right along here," he said in a sly tone as he caressed my bud
through the dry, slick fabric. I parted my thighs reflexively as my bottom
rocked against his teasing hand. My own hands reached out to steady myself,
and raked through the dense, rough fur of his flanks as I caught my
breath. "Do you think it is helping, Hali?" asked Arrvis in a low tone, his
muzzle warm against my ear as his fingertips grazed up my cleft and down
again.  I made an incoherent sound between a purr and a moan, and he
chuckled.  "Hm... maybe I had better just check."

My hands slid up the Vargyr's broad chest to clasp at the back of his neck
as Arrvis began to tease my erection with the tip of my own tail, then ran
one thumb along its length. His warm breath tickled my fur as he spoke with
pretended concern. "Aw... it seems that didn't help at all, did it? Poor
little pup.  Do you think I should try again, Hali?" I made some small,
urgent affirmative, and he chuckled softly, "Good boy."

Arrvis held me pinned between his hands, one playing all around my
squirming bottom but centering his attentions on the seam under my tail
while his other hand framed my throbbing cock in an easy grip so that I
stroked myself against it as my hips bucked and arched. "You know what I
think, Hali?" he murmured into my ear with a sensual hint of a growl. When
I did not answer, he tapped one heavy fingertip against the back seam where
it crossed my bud and prompted, "Well?"

"What do you, think, sir?" I asked. The honorific must have pleased Arrvis,
because the big Vargyr nuzzled my ear and gave my captive sex a gentle
squeeze as his other hand teased my ring slowly.

"I think that you like having your pants snug, Hali," he replied. "I think
that you want them to be noticed by the crew, like Shipman Orngg,
yesterday, hmm...?  Like that work crew on E-Deck.  I hear you put on quite
a show." The suggestion was breathed into my ear, followed by a nip at my
neck, just a hint of his teeth grazing there. "I think you like turning all
of us Vargyr on with your naughty ways, Hali, with your Halivarri tail
waving above your hungry little ass." My thighs parted further as he
stroked more deliberately, and I let my seat press back against his touch.

I could feel a blush deepening across my face as Arrvis spoke, low against
my neck, but I wasn't ashamed, because I could sense somehow that his
teasing was an expression of approval, of admiration even. More, I could
feel how aroused Arrvis had become while petting me, a response only fueled
by my responsiveness. I could almost feel a current between us,
electrifying our bodies, sharpening our appetites to a ravening hunger.

Meanwhile, as I grew more urgently aroused, I could catch my own aroma
deepening around us - not as deep a musk as a Vargyr, but redolent of
eager, adolescent rut. I tried to recall Doctor Courangara's explanation
regarding pheromones, but all I could think of was the feel of his huge,
silk-shod sex sliding under my bottom as I sat in his lap. In any case, it
was hard to think past what Arrvis was saying in his low, intimate tones as
he nuzzled all around my ear.

"Getting all boned up in your pants just from being on a ship full of
Vargyr cock, isn't that so, Hali?" Arrvis continued to caress me lazily,
the hand teasing my sex stroking up to graze and tweak my nipples, his hips
sidling against me so I could feel his unsheathed member against me under
taut fabric. "Hanging around in access-ways, stroking yourself, hoping a
crewman will come along - yeah, I know you do.  And I know why, Hali. Do
you?" Arrvis' tongue darted around my ear, and the hand on my ass drew me
tight against his hips. "Well, do you?" I gasped and managed to stammer a
reply.

"Unh! My, uh, biological imperative...?" It came out more as a question.

"You've been talking to the Doctor, haven't you, Hali?  Are you craving
something bigger than a Vargyr, that you've started wagging your tail at a
Rakashah?" I blushed and squirmed as he guessed so near the mark. "You
sound so clinical, Hali.  I'd put it another way."  His hands slowed,
drawing out each touch teasingly, making me arch and buck to stroke myself
against him.

"How would you put it, sir?" I thought I knew what he was going to say, and
I wanted to hear him say it.

"It is what you are made for, Hali. Oh, I am sure you have other talents,"
he allowed, heading off any objections I might have made if I weren't
squirming against him, shivering with desire. "But I think you'll find that
those are things you want to do, while this..." here he bucked his hips
slowly, letting me feel the hot length of his cock against my trembling
thigh, "...This is what you need.  Isn't that right, Hali?"

The hand that had been teasing along my torso reached for my own, still
clinging to the thick shag of mane at the back of his neck.  Sensing his
intent, I let him guide it down to rake the thatch of fur on his belly, and
lower still. I measured his maleness by touch, exploring his
proportions. He was big, bigger than Orngg, though not yet fully out of his
sheathe, and thicker than my captain.

"That's a good pup," he said in his low, silken tones. "See what you do to
us, Hali?  The way you tease, the way you smell... The way you stare with
those big, dark eyes. Oh, yes - I saw you looking.  Practically licking
your lips, panting for it, weren't you?"

I didn't say anything to counter his claims. Just at the moment, they were
true enough. Arrvis noticed my blush, smiled, raised his hand to stroke my
cheek, letting his thumb trail over my lips. The tip of my tongue darted
out to moisten it.

Arrvis slid his thumb into my mouth, and I suckled it instinctually as he
bucked his sex against my hand, still teasing under my tail.  "So, tell me,
Hali..." he said in his husky voice, nearly a growl. "Where to you like it
best - in your pretty little mouth, or up your tight little ass?"

"Uh... um, I guess up my..." I started to reply, blushing fiercely. My back
bumped against something, and I realized he'd been maneuvering me gradually
toward a lift tube. The door hissed softly open behind me, and he bundled
me into it, hit a button.

"Not that it really matters," he growled into my ear.  "I'll let you do
both. If I hadn't had that meeting last night, you know, we'd have filled
you from both ends."  I shivered at that. "Don't worry, we still will do
that - and more, pup - oh, soon enough!" I could feel the heat build in him
as he said so, and further as he went on: "But later. For now, we're going
to make up for time we lost last night - just you and me."

The lift hummed and, gradually, gravity lightened and began to pull in a
new direction. Arrvis steadied me by the simple expedient of holding my
shivering body against his own, helping me find my footing on what had been
an angled section of wall as the lift came to a halt, and a different panel
opened before us onto a dim space beyond.

I could only see a comform seat, somewhere between a chair and an
acceleration couch, poised among faintly blinking controls in front of a
wide, bayed viewport showing some kind of prominent assembly on the far
side, backlit by the streaming star-trails of jumpspace. I realized this
was a gunnery station while Arrvis was persuading the lift that it was
under maintenance, and then he was moving for the gunner's seat through the
half-gravity, and drawing me along after him.

"That should assure our privacy, least until the end of next watch," he
said as he returned his attention to me. "So we can take our time." He
smiled wolfishly, and my cock twitched. "Let's get these out of the way..."
With that, he began to unfasten the tabs that held the straining panel of
my shipman's pants in place while I just as eagerly fumbled with his.

"Should we even be in here?" I asked with a short gasp as, bare now between
my thighs, Arrvis stroked along my exposed parts as he settled himself in
the comform seat.

"Well, no," he replied. "But as long as we are in jumpspace, the guns won't
be needed, and it was the closest place I could think of to get you alone.
Now, turn around and come here."

He turned me so I faced away from him, then lifted me easily in his arms to
straddle his chest. I had managed to unfasten the panel of his pants at the
front and was staring at his fully erect sex arching urgently up at me as
his heavy paw found the nape of my neck.  I needed little encouragement to
lean forward to stroke his length against my cheek, drinking in the rich
scent of the coarse fur around the base of his sex as I nuzzled slowly.

"Better get that plenty wet, Hali..." he said as he lifted my legs over his
shoulders, parting my thighs.  "Because you know where it's going, don't
you, pup?" I could feel his breath, warm against my naked fur, then gasped
as his cold nose nudged beneath my tail.  "Right ...here." Then his warm,
rough tongue plying along the vale of my ass to circle my shivering bud.

"Unh! Yessir!" I gasped, and made a slow survey of his thick, Vargyr cock
with parted lips, my tongue darting and flicking in time to his own where
it teased my tight ring. I was drunk on the heavy, musky male scent of his
sex, and shuddered as I found I was aware of how I smelled to him, freed
from my pants after a prolonged and torturous confinement. Boyish, ruttish,
yearning to be mated, my scent mingled with his - dominant, demanding,
intent on a target already surrendered and yielding to his pliant,
plundering tongue.

Arrvis paused to loosen my tail where it had wrapped around his neck to
hold his muzzle snug between my spread cheeks. "Just can't wait to get this
sweet little tail hole filled, can you, pup?" My parted lips slicked his
cock from crown to root with his own dew as I nuzzled under to suckle at
the swell of his throbbing knot in reply.

"Oh, good pup!" he said in a muffled bark, buried his wet nose in my dank
under-tail, and came. His cock pulsed under my lips and I felt the soft
slap of his jetting seed strike my cheek in drops and streaks.


 		*          		*          		*


Meanwhile, as I would later learn, a console light at a crew station on the
bridge had changed from steady green to blinking amber.

"Captain, security alert from turret seventeen," said the subaltern in a
level tone that belied any surprise.

"Do we have AV surveillance of that weapon station, lieutenant?" asked
Captain Fangg after a measured pause.

"Aye, captain," said the subaltern, Rrnoldt.

Another pause. "On screen."

"Aye, Captain."


		*          		*          		*


Across the ship, some dozen view-screens, from Engineering to the E-deck
aft urinal, flicked on to show Arrvis muscle me into the gunnery station,
fondle my bare privates, poise me over him in the gunner's seat.

Crewmen nudged each other and fell silent save for occasional moans or
gasps of awe. Hands, black with engine grease, tugged restlessly at
trouser-panels grown abruptly snug as they watched me worship hard Vargyr
cock with my mouth, squirm back against the hot muzzle that burrowed under
my tail.

In the shuttle-bay, arc-plasma flickered and dimmed as welders lifted their
reflec visors to look from the big, overhead screen to Crewman Orngg who
nodded once, standing a little taller, chest out, one hand framing the
swell in his pants as he smiled to himself.

On E-deck, young Yrvnng watched from his hands and knees through glittering
yellow streams, muzzle deep in rank, lupine crotch as a rough hand pushed
his tail aside and lifted his hips.

On D-deck, above, Officer Murchar glowered at the screen, eyed his security
detail and nodded toward a lift tube.  The crewmen on duty thumbed the
chromed knobs of their stun-batons, grinned wolfishly and moved out.

In the medical bay, Doctor Courangara excused himself to the clinician,
irised open the door to his own quarters, passed through to sprinkle a
pinch of dreamgrass onto a glowing brazier, sit on a low cushion with his
legs folded beneath him, and close his eyes.


 		*          		*          		*


On the control console of turret seventeen, a high-resolution,
motion-activated surveillance camera tracked our every movement as Arrvis
lifted me up and turned me to face him. My legs hooked over his elbows, he
lifted my seat, guiding my hips to grind his still-aroused cock along my
cleft as he lapped his semen from my cheek and found my panting mouth with
his own.

As I sucked his seed from his tongue, tasting his rising passion in the
scent of my own rut, I squirmed and arched my rear until I felt my
shivering bud snare the wet tip of his sex, then forced myself back, inch
by thickening inch, onto his big Vargyr cock. He gave one testing thrust of
his knot against my stretched ring, and I began to come.

I came in glittering ribbons across my belly and chest, the smell moistly
mingling with the sodden scent of sex heavy in the air around us as my
passage shivered and contracted around the restless intruder. Arrvis thrust
slowly in my clenching, velvet grip, panting against my ear, murmuring low
as he nudged again with his knot at my ring.

"This is what you want, isn't it, Hali?" He drew his hips back until I
whimpered, then thrust roughly in again until sticky fur bristled at my
tail hole, the crown of his cock bluntly butting a spot deep inside me,
making my cock pulse and jet another streamer of seed. "Yeah, show me how
much you want it, pup. Come for me." I pressed to meet his knot, and he
drew back again slowly.

"Poor little slut-puppy needs a good fucking, doesn't he?" Another shove of
his cock, another small fountain from mine, another tight clutch as he
rammed my prostate, another squirm of my hips trying to force his knot into
me. He chuckled knowingly and drew back once more. "Get used to needing it,
pup.  It's what you're for, isn't it, Hali?" Ramming in again, teasing with
his knot. "Tell me, Hali..." he panted into my ear, fingers tracing snail
trails of my own sap over my fur, thumbing my nipples. "Tell me what you
need."

"The knot, sir... Please?" I gasped, as my passage trembled and tightened
to grip his hard maleness as another shuddering wave overcame me. My next
shot hit my face, and my tongue flicked out to taste it on my lips. Arrvis
growled, pulled back slowly until again I whimpered and squirmed.

"Oh, I don't know, pup..." he murmured, tongue flicking around my
ear. "Doesn't sound like you really mean it." His powerful hips thrust
forwards again, slowly. I moaned and pressed back, panting as my climax
receded but still powerfully aroused.

"Please," I panted, "...please fuck me sir. I need it.  I need your big,
Vargyr knot!" I was nearly crying now, and blushing again as I heard myself
begging him, meaning every word.

"Good boy," he crooned. "I am glad you can tell me what you need." The
words spoken to my ear as adroitly arousing as his languorous thrusts. "Now
tell me why you need it, Hali..." He bent to lick a drop of my seed from a
nipple, as I squirmed against the knot at my ring before he withdrew it
once more.

"Because I'm a naughty Halivarri, sir..." I said, blushing.  "A little
tease who needs to be fucked." He thrust in again, slowly, rocking his hips
to nudge my prostate deliberately.

"So you are a slut, pup?" Teasing with the knot that would lock his thick
sex inside me, Arrvis ground against my ass until I pressed back to scour
my stretched ring with the coarse fur that covered it.

"Ulp!" I gasped. "Yes, sir.  I am slut-boy for hard Vargyr cock." He let me
squirm against his knot, lapping cum from my fur, my face. The air was
heavy with the scents of semen and sweat, deep , male, Vargyr musk and
ass-fucked adolescent rut.

"Orngg told me you're a snug fit. I guess I could just shove it in and take
you, but how about you show me you want my knot.  Fuck your little ass
right back on it." He arched his hips, holding steady as I tested my ring
against his throbbing knob. "Hear tell you get so hot for Vargyr knot, you
can't sit still 'til it's in you, and then you can't sit still
either. Squirming and squeezing, clutching tight when you come. Kept Orngg
so hard you were late for the Captain's table before he could pull out."

He let me take my time, breathing slowly, stretching myself over the thick
swell near the base of his proud Vargyr sex, restless hands stroking me,
rubbing my previous load into my fur, over my parted lips.  I lapped at his
slickened thumb as I worked myself gradually onto the massive intruder.

"And just like you, Hali, to turn up to serve your Captain - your own
bond-mate - rumpled and panting, reeking of sex, knowing he could smell it
on you, knowing how he'd need to prove your place.  And he did, didn't he,
Hali." He braces his heavy hands on my shoulders, pulling me down.

"Yes, sir... Ulp!" With this assistance I finally forced myself back onto
him, my ring closing around the shaggy root of his sex.  I yelped, Arrvis
growled and closed his teeth - gently - over the back of my neck. I could
tell that in spite of his teasing tone, Arrvis wanted this as badly as I
did.  His need was as plain as his scent, and I could feel how each moment
with me was sharpening it for him.  It would have been agonizing if he were
not so certain that I would let him take me, and that it was his manifest
right.

There were no words for this - just raw instinct, rising from our deepest
natures to confront us with our mutual need.  I felt it intuitively,
emotively.  Later, I'd talk it out with Doctor Courangara, only then
finding words.  For the moment, it was enough that we both knew, with his
cock sunk deep inside me, and me squirming and shivering in his lap, as he
thrust the short distance allowed by his knot to ram my secret inner core
until once more I tensed and shuddered, moaned and came.

My feet kicked out, met something solid, pushed it away.  There was a loud
pop and sizzle of discharged capacitors as the cannons fired, the chair
rumbled beneath us, lit by the glare of lasers pulsing into the void,
falling behind us to be lost in the myriad star-streams of jumpspace.


	 	*          		*          		*


Elsewhere on the ship, I am told many of the crew applauded. On the bridge,
no one dared.

"A security team is responding to the, ah, incident, Captain," said
Rrnlodt, the subaltern, breaking the long silence.

"Tell them to wait outside. It may be some time before we can separate
them," said the Captain, with the ghost of a smile.  "Continue with AV
surveillance. Archive the footage - and restricted access, or no one will
get anything done."

"Aye, sir," said the lieutenant, sending the command to the security team
closing now on turret seventeen.  Then, in a deferential aside, "You are a
lucky one, Captain."

"Yes," said Captain Fangg with a slow, predatory grin.  "Yes, I am."


 		*          		*          		*


Afterwards, I lay with Arrvis for a while in the languor that follows the
exhaustion of desire. He had tilted the conform gunner's seat back and
sprawled out, my head resting on his upper thighs, so that he could nose
around my still-bare privates drinking in my scent at his leisure. I spread
my thighs, nuzzling sleepily, still bewitched by his heady male scent,
brushing my cheek and lips along the damp, tangled fur of his thick
sheathe.

We lay that way for a timeless while.  Then, of course, the security detail
overrode the lock on the lift, separated us gently but firmly, put us both
in restraints, and led us off to the brig.  The squad leader smiled
knowingly, and slapped a blunt, rubber truncheon in his palm. I shivered,
and he grinned.