A Treasure, Freely Given
	by Andrew "Aethan" French (aethan@tiac.net)

My name is Haliday Dasker. I was born on the planet Halivar, in the Omicron Zeta system. When I was seventeen, I had graduated from Low School, and I had high hopes of attending the Academy, back on Homearth. Oh, I know, since the big religious furor of twenty years ago, Homearth's been kind of prejudiced against us, but I had my dreams. I knew where I wanted to go, and I knew how I wanted to get there. 

Since my first days as a mouseling I had been brought up on tales of the Great Space Expeditions of the Old Thirties. Sleek star-barques wending their way around nebula clusters. Ion drives propelling Tel-Stellos Cruisers into pitched battle with pirates. The great colored gas-clouds of Regulus Minor. Oh, yes. The stars called me, and I begged my mother to get me a ticket on a Tel-Stellos Starliner rather than the far more expensive but far faster 'Port-tube. She was unhappy, but she acquiesced, knowing that there would be no changing my mind. She had seen me in the yard with my telescope, gazing in rapt wonder at that far starry sea, and she knew there was no keeping me. When the cosmos calls a sailor, he must sail where the Solar Winds take him.

Admittedly, this is all very romanticized. As far as I knew, the Star-liner trip would just be a fling before settling into the routine of classes at the Homearth Academy. But, still, something inside me longed for it to be more, and, as it turned out, it was.

My mother saw me to Havilar Prime Starport, where my ship, the great freighter Nebula Skipper, was waiting, my home for the next six-months on the trip to Homearth. She tucked a handkerchief in my coat pocket and hugged me, making some of the starsailors titter. She silenced them with a look, and then smiled, sadly, at me. "Please be careful," she begged. "I don't know what I'd do if your ship reefed on an asteroid belt, or if you were captured by pirates." I assured her that I would be fine. I promised to be careful, and chuckled at her mention of reefs and pirates.

I spent a blissful three weeks enjoying the life of a passenger aboard the Skipper. Although I was only one of three 'Lifted amongst an otherwise human crew, I wasn't bothered overmuch. I got a certain amount of ribbing from the captain and his men. I have always been something of a "pretty boy", and the reputation of Havilar as the planet that the original Homearth settlers set up as a pleasure palace didn't help matters. More than a few humans find the 'Lifted attractive, and I had quite a few offers, all of which I was disinclined to accept. Despite my planet's reputation, I had made it this far through life without any sexual contact, and I was very shy on the subject. So I more or less avoided the crew, finding quiet hidey-holes that they couldn't locate or staying in the lounge-decks, where they dared not make any untoward advances. The lounge-decks had huge view-screens, and I enjoyed
Amazing views of the stars, like never before. Those first few weeks were idyllic, and I smiled at my mother’s fears. Reefs and pirates, indeed. Ha!

Three weeks after leaving Havilar, while skirting the Zephyr Asteroid Reef, we were attacked by pirates.

I knew nothing of what was happening. My berth was deep in the ship's core, and I'd had no suspicions of what was occurring. I was reading, in my hammock, when the lights dimmed, and the ship rocked, as if we'd struck something. I knew we were in the Zephyr Reef, so I assumed we'd hit a smaller rock. I assured myself that if anything were wrong, the warning claxons would sound, and I would be able to panic properly. I resumed reading, until a massive tremor ran through the ship, and the lights went dead, as did the omnipresent thrumming of the ship's Ion Drives.

Again, trusting soul that I was, I assumed that the ship was experiencing a minor power failure, and I switched on my personal lightbar, which worked from batteries. When it, too, failed to activate, I began to really panic in earnest. I attempted to step out of my bunk and found that gravity was also non-functioning. I was just lucky the life-support was still on! I floated, floundering, panicking, until I saw a light. It was a small laser-knife, cutting through the door to my little room. Of course, part of my brain said. If power's not-functioning, the doors won't open, and the crew would need to cut the doors open. I'm being rescued. I relaxed, a little, until the newly-cut metal fell to the floor, and the light of the knife illuminated the face of a one-eyed otter I'd never seen aboard ship.

My brain cried out one word: pirates! And, mercifully, I fainted.

When I came to, there was light, at least, and gravity. I was lying on my side, my hands tied behind my back, clad in only my sleeping-shirt, which hung down to my knees. "Wha-what...?" I managed to stammer, before a vicious-sounding voice snarled out, "Silence, you dog!" I was dragged to my feet by the otter I'd encountered earlier, and he leered at me, looking me over in a way I didn't fancy at all. There were several other pirates around, 'Lifted, all, and they watched, either with distaste or else with detached amusement. They were all busy seeing to their own prisoners, the crew of the Skipper. The otter turned my face this way and that with his rough paw, examining me.

"Yer a prissy lil thing, ain't ye?" he chuckled. "Are ye a boy or a girl under all them blond curls?"

"I'm a b-boy," I sputtered, somewhat indignant despite my predicament.

"Are ye?" he snickered. "I don't much care, ye unnerstand. Any port in
a storm. Heh, heh."

"Look, you..." I began, but a cuff across the face shut me up quick. My eyes watered, and I saw Captain Harker of the Skipper give the otter a contemptuous glare. The brute shook me, and I whimpered. How could 'Lifted be so cruel to one of their own? He cuffed me again, harder.

"Quiet, slave," he growled, "Or its the cat fer ye. Or worse, maybe ye'll be planked."

Slave? I thought to myself. Oh, mother! What had I gotten into? The otter's paw stroked the fur of my knee, and started to slide higher up my leg. “Mmmmmm...you must be Halivari. Yer fur is so soft." His paw slid higher, up my thigh.

"Please don't, sir," I whimpered. "Please."

The otter chuckled. "Ooooo, all polite now, ain't we?" He caressed my leg, his fingers in the fur of my inner thigh. "Well, laddie, I will, actually, do whatever I want." I whimpered, again, which made his smile wider. He nodded over his shoulder to where some of the other pirates were taking an interest in what he was doing. "An' then some of the other lads'll have their turn." A couple of the others grinned and nodded. One cat licked his lips. I shuddered, closing my eyes. "An' then..."

"Riverdog!" barked a voice from behind the otter, and he winced, snapping to attention, his paw leaving my leg. "Stop badgering the prisoner." I opened my eyes. The speaker was a red fox, neatly-dressed in the naval uniform of a Tel-Stellos officer.

The otter sneered, relaxing a little. "Terrible sorry, Lieutenant." He spat the word like a curse. "This little thing was giving me lip, and I was..."

"That little thing is the captain's property until we divvy, or have you forgotten the rules? What if he's some sort of nobleman's son? We want him intact for ransom."

Riverdog snarled at the fox, who seemed quite unimpressed. "You and the
blasted captain and yer bloody rules! Damn ye all!"

The fox smiled. "I doubt you would speak so if the captain were here."

The otter snorted, "Well, he ain't, and..."

"Captain on deck," the fox barked, with military precision. The otter froze, mid-sneer, and his eyes went wide. The captain, a huge wolf, maybe forty, with a long jagged scar twisting his muzzle into a permanent scowl, stepped forward. He, too, wore the uniform of a Tel-Stellos officer, blue and gold, with red tassels on the shoulder, denoting a high rank. Captain Harker wore the same coat, and his face drained of color as the wolf entered. "Captain Fang," he whispered, horrorstruck. The effect on the pirates was amazing, they all, with the exception of the otter, snapped into a near military attention, saluting, and the wolf nodded approvingly at them.

"At ease," he said, in a low, gravelly voice. "Mr. Riverdog," the big 'Lifted said, eyes on me, rather than the otter, "what, precisely, is happening here?"

"Cap'n Fang," gulped the otter. "I was just bein' a bit... um...playful while securing the prisoner. And, uh, Reynolds..."

"Lieutenant Reynolds," interrupted the wolf.

"Ah... uh... yeah. Lieutenant Reynolds was suggesting that I..."

"That you keep your bloody paws to yourself," suggested the fox, with a smirk. "This boy," the fox nodded to me, "was terrified, clearly." The otter scowled at his nemesis.

"I can imagine," the wolf said with a nod at his lieutenant. "I know what playful means to you, Riverdog. If Reynolds hadn't interrupted, this boy would've been buggered by you, and then, at your instigation, another half the crew, I imagine." Riverdog scowled at the wolf, who snarled, his scar making this a terrible sight. One large hand lashed out, grasping the otter by his fur and vest, and lifting him off the ground, almost effortlessly. The otter struggled, but the wolf gripped him tightly.

"You dare not be insolent to me, Riverdog. My rules say that Tel-Stellos crewmen, especially 'Lifted, are to be treated with respect and honor." He pitched the otter into a bulkhead, where he landed with an exhalation of breath. "This is hardly the first time you have ignored my rules. You will be downloaded at the next safeport we reach. The Quartermaster will give you full wages, but you will never speak of me or my operations to anyone, or I will find you, and I will kill you. Is that clear?" The wolf turned away, barking over his shoulder, "The rest of you get back to work securing the prisoners."

Harker spat as Fang walked by. "Murderer!" he cried. "You're a traitor and a murderer, Fang."

Fang looked down at him. "No, Captain. You are wrong. That is a myth that Tel-Stellos has dreamed up to explain to their officers why I am attacking them."

Harker glared. "Good men died when you fired that EMP-Cannon at us, Murdering Dog."

Fang looked sad. "That is regrettable, but this is war. You and your crew are quite safe; I only want your ship and its cargo. You'll be dropped off at safeport with Mr. Riverdog. For now, you'll be my guests, though I fear your crew will be accommodated in my brig. They will, however, be safe. You have my word."

"The word of a 'Lifted! What is that worth?"

Fang's face contorted into a mask of grief and rage. It looked like he might strike Harker. "Oh, Smythe," he sighed at last, relaxing, "why must humans be such fools?" He leaned down, squatting on his haunches. "You live or die at my sufference, but still you bait me, just for the sake of a specist insult. Nonetheless, you are only a product of a wrongly-made society, and I do not hate you for it. I shall not, however, subject my crew to your wicked tongue." He looked to the fox, as he stood up. "Lieutenant Reynolds?"

The fox saluted, smartly. "Sir!"

"Muzzle him."

The bound captain glared, but Reynolds knelt and, with expert hands, slipped a ball-gag into Harker's mouth, fastening it in place with leather straps. Harker was a fountain of muted and muffled threats and curses. "Thank you, Lieutenant," Fang said with a sigh. "I'm truly sorry, Captain, that it has come to this." He started to walk out again, but I saw Riverdog rising, laser-knife in hand.

"Damn you and your rules," the otter whispered, and I realized that Reynolds, busy securing Captain Harker, couldn't see that his captain was in danger. Pirate or no, I couldn't let this happen.

"Captain Fang!" I cried, "Look out!" The otter leapt at the wolf, knife
glowing, but the captain whirled around, his own blade out of its sheath. I recognized a uni-cutlass, even as its mono-molecular thin blade cut through otter flesh and bone. A spray of otter blood splashed the rest of the crew as Riverdog was cut completely in two. The grisly remains fell in two uneven piles on the floor, the laser-knife clattering uselessly beside them.

Reynolds had hardly had time to look up, but the captain had reacted as quick as thought, and he wasn't even breathing hard. "Thank you, lad," he said, softly. "Reynolds, have someone plank Mr. Riverdog's remains." He looked at me. "And Reynolds? If anyone lays a finger on this boy again during the trip? Plank them. You have my full authority in this matter. He is to be given crew status, rather than prisoner. Give him free run of the ship." The wolf turned again and walked out.

Thus began my career aboard the pirate ship Beloved Daria.

I spent a week doing what is generally considered grunt-work amongst the pirates. I learned to swab the decks and work with the solar-sails, dull work, but very good for building one's muscles. My childish paws, so dainty, got blistered and raw. I made friends among the crew, most of whom, I found, were very decent folks, not like Riverdog at all. Riverdog had not been well-liked, and the Captain was considered nearly infallible by his crew. One of my best friends from day one was Swally McTaggert, a 'Lifted housecat who had joined the crew three years before. Lieutenant Reynolds had put him more or less in charge of my well-being, and he'd taken a liking to me.

One day, a week after my "capture", we were sitting on the abovedeck, the great forward viewscrews giving a beautiful view of the stars. We were eating, and eating well. Toliver, the ship's cook, a 'Lifted ferret, could really handle a replicator, and his food was almost always delicious. I was asking Swally if the crew were angry with me for getting Riverdog killed. 

"Riverdog was a rapist and a bully," he sneered. "He hurt me bad me first week aboard. It was just always hard to prove he'd done nothin'. He was a sly bastard, but he'd been buildin' up to a full mutiny fer a long time, now. Can't allow as I'm sorry t' see him go."

"Captain on deck," came a call from below us. We jumped to our feet as Captain Fang came out onto the abovedeck.

"At ease, lads," he said with a smile, his scar making it seem more like a sneer. "Well, Mr McTaggart, how's our newest hand coming along?"

Swally grinned. "Slowly, sir. I don't think 'is hands have seen so many
calluses since he first hit puberty." Both men shared a laugh while my ears turned a bright pink.

"What's your name, lad?" Captain Fang asked.

I straightened my shoulders. "Haliday Dasker, sir."

He smiled. "And your homeworld?"

"Halivar, sir."

He chuckled. "Well, well, you must be making friends among the crew, then." When he saw my discomfit, he immediately stopped smiling. "Sorry, lad. I, of all people, should know better than to fall back on a stereotype. Where were you heading when we took you on this little side-jaunt?"

"Homearth, sir. To the Tel-Stellos Academy."

His face turned a little sour then. "Ah, well, I'm sure you'll be an excellent student, Mr. Dasker." His voice held a note of sarcasm.

I felt a strange pang of disappointment for having said something to offend this gallant pirate captain. "I'm sorry, sir. Did I say something wrong?"

He shook his head, sighing softly. "No, lad. Not your fault. Tel-Stellos and I are not on the best of terms right now. That's all." He smiled a bit. "In three days, we'll be putting into port at Nouveau Tortuga. From there, you should be able to find another ship to Homearth." He gave us both a smart nod, turned, and headed off.

"What about Captain Fang?" I asked Swally. "How did he become a pirate? He seems so...so..."

"Decent?" Swally said with a grin.

"Exactly! So how'd he end up as captain for...um..."

"Us scum?" Swally winked.

"Oh, no, no, no! I didn't mean that!"

"I'm only funnin' ye, Hal," he said (for so I had been nicknamed). "Well, as it happens, Cap'n Fang is about the most decent, fair-minded, law-abidin' citizen of the Tel-Stellos Confederation ye might ever wan' t' meet. He were, as ye might've guessed from his uniform, an officer in the Tel-Stellos Stellar Naval Corps. Well, thirteen years ago, he's away on mission, an' he hears that his home planet Varga Prime, has been attacked by Squigglers..."

"Squigglers?" I asked.

"Aye. Yer bein' way out on the Starward Rim, ye might never have heard of 'em. Closer to the Prime Center, we used t' have lots o' problems with 'em. Squigglers is Reptile 'Lifted, one o' Smythe's first experiments. Like lizards, only wickedly big an' smart an' vicious." 

I wrinkled my muzzle, my whiskers wiggling in distaste. "Yuck!"

He nodded. "Yuck indeed. The Squigglers have been givin' trouble to both the humans an' the Furry 'Lifted fer since their creation. Thirteen years ago, it were more or less war with 'em, an' they'd captured all kinds o' Homearth Tech, includin' starliners an' stuff. Cap'n Fang, he were a Cap'n in that war, an' when he hears how the Squigglers have hit Varga Prime an' killed his mate, Daria, an' his son, Willet, he goes just crazy! He takes the war t' th' Squigglers, an' he hits 'em so bad, they fall down to nothin', like. Even now they ain't much of a threat. So he comes home from the war, an' he gets th'
big hero's welcome on Varga Prime, an' he goes home, an' he sees his lil house, all burnt an' blasted t' pieces. An' he cries."

We both sighed, thinking of the noble Captain Fang, grieving for his lost loved ones. "Well," says Swally, "He looks around, an' he starts t' notice things. Things only someone what fought the Squigglers'd notice. See, Squigglers are terrors when they have a laser cannon and a targeting system, but hand 'em a starlock pistol and they won't hit ye from five feet away. Terrible aim with lasers. Somethin' about the eyes, methinks it is. 

"Anyway, Cap'n Fang realizes that th' house is shot up real good. I mean they hit everything what they was aimin' for. An' he gets t' see the bodies of his wife and kid, an' they've been shot just so, in the head, through the heart. An' there ain't no Squiggler even can shoot half as good. So he gets a friend t' do some diggin' through the Tel-Stellos computers, an' he finds out it’s all been a set-up. His family were deliberately targeted by Tel-Stellos troops durin' th' fight, so's he'd get really angry an' go kill all the Squigglers fer Tel-Stellos."

I was stunned. "Tel-Stellos did this?"

Swally nodded. "Zat so, Hal. Tel-Stellos considers all 'Lifted expendable, an' the Cap'n's psych-file said that he performed remarkable fierce when he was angry. Really vicious, like. They killed his family so that he'd kill th' Squigglers fer 'em. The whole Squiggler war was just a bad drain on their resources, an' they figgered Cap'n Fang was more or less just a resource t' be used as they needed. If he'd win the war for 'em angry, well, wasn't it worth it t' kill his family?

"See, the battles 'tween human and 'Lifted way back were th' big fights about what we were an' if we have souls. Lots o' humans think we're just dumb animals, so's why should they care if we die? Tel-Stellos plays like they're our friend, but we're still just animals to 'em. If killin' a few will save 'em some cash, they'll do it."

I think I might've started to cry, then. Tel-Stellos, to me, meant heroic space-rangers making the stars safe for colonists. It meant peace, order, and fair-play. I could barely reconcile my childhood image of that great big brother of the cosmos to this ruthless, manipulative conglomerate that was being described to me.

"So the Cap'n, he finds out all this, an' he goes crazy again, but it’s a sad kinda crazy. He'd grown up worshippin' Tel-Stellos. Heck, which of us din't? Tel-Stellos funded all of Smythe's 'Lifting experiments. Without them, we wouldn't even exist! But they just think of us as animals, expendable animals. Since we can breed true, we don't cost nothin' t' them. We make great soldiers, scouts, explorers, an' workers. So Cap'n, he pulls a fast one on 'em. He takes his ship, an' he goes buccaneer on 'em. He renames his ship fer his dead mate, an' he makes war on Tel-Stellos in th' name o' her an' his son. He wants Tel-Stellos to admit what happened, but they won't, 'cause they know th' 'Lifted will walk away from 'em in  droves, so he's makin' it very, very expensive for Tel-Stellos to ignore him. Tel-Stellos tol' alla other Cap'ns that he's gone rogue, he murders folks, an' such, but he don't. He jus' takes their ships an' cargo an' blows 'em up or sells 'em for booty against th' divvy. S'when we put into a safeport, one that Tel-Stellos don't control, an' divide up all th' plunder we've accumulated on our voyages. Fun, eh?"

I nodded, but my thoughts were elsewhere, with the sad wolf captain who was waging a war for the right for the 'Lifted to know the truth about the company that parented them. I felt that strange pang again, and my words came without my willing them. "Has he ever taken a mate since then?"

Swally considered this, then said, "Well, I ain't known him but the three years, but he hasn't in that time. An' I can't recall anyone sayin' he ever did. I dunno." Swally and I both went silent then, thinking of the love that he must've had for his mate if he hadn't ever taken another. There was more passion and nobility in the gallant pirate than I would've guessed, and the thoughts of him followed me to bed that night, wandering around in my head.

I visited Captain Harker the next day. He and the rest of the crew had been confined in the brig. They weren't too glad to see me, and I left in a hurry, after Captain Harker talked about me "getting in good" with the enemy. I knew that Harker didn't know about Fang's history, but I couldn't forgive him. You should know better, I thought. You should really know better.

Once again that night, I thought of the pirate captain, feeling those pangs more and more frequently and knowing, now, what they meant. I had  had crushes on various people before, but I felt truly smitten. My  people, the Halivari, have a phrase. We say that when a Halivari youth is ready for love, he finds someone and impales himself on the thought of that person. That was how I felt. It seemed that Captain Fang was in my heart and in my mind, and, when I touched my cheek with my hand, I imagined it was his paw I felt there. I thought of him lying, sad and lonely, in his cabin, and I wept, softly. There, in my bed that night, I made a vow to myself, and I fell asleep thinking on it. If he finds he wants me, I thought, I swear he shall not be lonely again.

The next day, I worked through my chores, mind only half on my work. When I was off-duty, I had dinner with Swally, as usual, and then slipped away. I fished some simple clothes out of the luggage the Daria's crew had rescued from the booty for me. I examined myself in a mirror. Simple knee-length pantaloons, a black vest, and a ribbon to tie the blond-curls out of my eyes. I walked to the captain's cabin and placed my hand on the entry-screen. The computer scanned my hand, and the door opened. I found Captain Fang inside, reclining on his bunk with a book. He was clad only in a pair of shorts when I entered, and he seemed quite surprised to see me. "Mr. Dasker," he said, marking the  book with a bit of cloth and putting it down. "What may I do for you?"

"I'd like to speak with you briefly, sir, about my leaving the ship at Nouveau Tortuga."

He nodded. "What about it?"

"I'd rather not, sir."

He looked at me, curious. "And why not?"

"I have...heard the story of why you fight with Tel-Stellos, sir. And,  Smythe willing, I'd like to help."

Fang sighed and gestured to a chair in front of him. "You may be at ease, Mr. Dasker." I sat, as he continued. "This life is not a boy's adventure book. We are at war with Tel-Stellos, and they will not rest until I am dead, or until it becomes financially impossible for them to continue pursuing me. Anyone who books ship with me runs the risk of death on a daily basis."

"I understand that, sir."

"Do you? Do you understand what it is to wonder, every morning, if you will survive to go to bed that night? I do not think so, Mr. Dasker. No, my crew are here for the potential of monetary gain, because they have nothing to  lose, or because they hate Tel-Stellos as much as I do. Only Reynolds, myself, and a handful of others are fighting for any sort of  idealistic cause."

"And I would like to join you, sir."

He shook his head again. "You're young, Mr. Dasker. You have a whole life ahead of you. I cannot ask you to throw it away on my personal war."

I smiled. "But your war has far-reaching social ramifications. If you win, it will mean a new independence for 'Lifted everywhere. You'll have done more for 'Lifted rights than any other in the history of our people."

He sighed. "What can I say to convince you?" He reached out and took one of my hands, resting it paw-up in one of his. "These hands have never known manual labor before your time here. They're so soft. Don't ruin them swabbing decks and hoisting rigging."

I looked into his deep amber eyes. "Isn't there any other job I can do aboard? Something more suited for my size and strength?"

He shrugged. "Such as?"

I sucked in a breath and exhaled. "Captain's Cabin Boy?"

He stared at me for a moment, then released my hand. "Mr. Dasker," he said, sounding a little angry, "you will be put off ship in Nouveau Tortuga tomorrow. I recommend you get some sleep."

I blushed, my ears a deep crimson, and I turned to go, my heart aching. "I'm s-sorry, Captain." I bit my lip, fighting back a tear. 

"Dasker," he said, much softer. I paused. "It’s not that I don't think you're attractive. You are. Very. And your offer is very tempting. But no one can replace Daria for me. No one."

"I don't wish to replace her," I said, softly. "Only to ease your loneliness. Would she want you to be lonely?" I stayed, facing the cabin-door, in case he ordered me out. Instead, I heard the creaking of his bed, and, suddenly, a tentative, trembling paw lit on my shoulder.

"She always told me," he said, softly, "that if anything happened to her, she wanted me to find another. But, whenever I tried, it always seemed like a betrayal." He ran his fingers along my bare arm. "It’s true," he said, softly. "Halivari fur is as soft as silk." His other arm turned me around. "Little Haliday," he said, softly. "You are, in truth, very beautiful." He touched my cheek, as I had imagined him doing, and I pressed my skin against his gentle fingers. "It’s been a very long time," he said, with lips trembling, slightly. "And you are so very young. My Willet would be about your age, now..."

I took a step closer, and his arms came around me. I felt his fur, warm and fine, against mine, and I closed my eyes, drinking in his heady smell. "I will never try to banish Daria," I said, "but I hope I have her blessing to make you happy."

He stroked my hair, lightly, then tilted my head back, his fingertips under my chin, and leaned down, pressing his lips to mine. I kissed him, nuzzling lightly, arms exploring his back as he held me in his embrace. He lifted me, easily, like a child, and carried me to the bed. He stood beside it, looking down at me, eyes soft and a little sad. "I do not wish to do anything you don't want me to," he whispered. "It is not my first time with a male, but... I have not...done it often."

"It is my first time at all," I whispered, taking his hand. "Please, teach me."

He sat on the edge of the bed and lifted me into his lap, his lips pressing to mine again. I kissed him once, deeply, then nibbled along his muzzle, tenderly licking the scar, the mark which would never seem frightening or ugly to me again. His paws crept, trembling up my chest, then slipped back to gently lift my vest off and away, dropping it casually beside the bed. I hooked my fingers into the waistband of my pants and stripped them down as he lifted me out of them. I was naked, now. I had not been naked in front of an adult since my childhood, and I felt, rather than saw, his eyes roam over me hungrily. I have always thought myself rather plain on Halivar, and to be lusted after was exciting and a little frightening.

He pulled me close, again, kissing me, his tongue exploring my lips, softly. I parted my muzzle, and his tongue tentatively explored inside. I had certainly never been kissed like this before, and I opened my lips a bit wider, giving him leave to do more. His tongue, long and wet, slipped into my muzzle, exploring and stroking. I felt excited and dizzy, and I began to suckle on his tongue, softly, which seemed to excite him all the more. Our hands caressed each other, now, both of us far less tentative. I felt his chest, so broad and muscular, while he stroked my curving, smooth back with its baby-like fur. He leaned forward, suddenly, and took my nipple into his mouth, licking it, lightly. I gasped, and he smiled. He nipped it, softly, taking it between those terrible teeth, and it felt like a jolt to my crotch.
I felt my sheath thickening in response. Fang might not have been with males too many times, but he had learned well from those experiences.

He winced a little, and set me down on the bed. Standing, he stripped his shorts off, revealing that his sheath had not only filled, but it had slid back, revealing a large, thick shaft which  was oozing precum steadily. He almost blushed. "They were getting tight," he said, softly, and I smiled and nodded. He really was aroused by me! The thought affected me, and I felt my own sheath beginning to skin back, the rosy head of my small cock beginning to emerge. He smiled, gently wrapping a paw around my shaft. "A hidden treasure," he smiled. He gave me a squeeze, and I moaned, softly. "What good deed have I done lately," he mused, "to deserve such a prize?"

I blushed. "I'm no prize," I said, softly. "Just a plain little Havilari."

He licked my throat, and I tilted my head back, gasping, my cock twitching in his grasp. "Far from plain," he murmured, leaning his head down into my lap. "Watch," he commanded me. "You're supposed to be learning."

He gave a long, lingering lick along the head of my cock, and I whimpered, clenching my teeth. He didn't hesitate; his muzzle suddenly enclosed my shaft, and he sucked on it hard. My fingers curled tightly into the sheets, my eyes screwing shut. Never had I been touched before, and I felt my hips beginning to move of their own volition. I opened my eyes, watching in fascination as my slender penis moved in and out of my Captain's lips. I knew that, with one snap, he could bite me in two, but I couldn't fear him. I loved him, I think, in that instant.

His hands weren't still while his mouth worked. One hefted my balls, rolling the little orbs around on his fingertips, while the other crept up between my thighs to tickle at the base of my cheeks. I moved my legs open, and my tail curled around his wrist, holding him there. I've heard that Havilari have had sexual instincts deliberately bred into them. I don't know if it is true, but I know that my lust overwhelmed me at that moment. I arched my back, and I felt his middle finger pressing to my anus, my tail holding him tightly, not letting him take his hand away, even if either of us had wanted that. A feeling I knew well from my solitary experiences was building within me, and I tried to speak, to warn him. I had no voice, however, and I barely managed a squeak before my balls exploded, sending a gushing stream of my seed out of my cock and into his mouth. I was terrified that he would be angry with me, but, to my surprise, he swallowed, suckling every drop out of me. I moaned, my hips still thrusting, and emptied the load and my virginity down his throat. He devoured both, my hungry wolf captain.

After a moment, his finger withdrew from my ass, and I started to open my mouth to say something, anything, but he drew away from my cock, then, thrusting his tongue back into my mouth. I tasted the soft, sticky strands of my cum on his tongue, and I suckled them away. He pushed me down onto my back, slowly climbing atop me, his tongue plundering my muzzle brutishly. I felt my legs rising: wrapping around his waist. I was dizzy, having barely had a moment to catch my breath before his tongue had licked its way into my mouth. Our tongues wrestled, playfully, and I felt his working down deep, tickling the back of my throat. I coughed, a little, but it wasn't unpleasant.

He smiled, slowly drawing his tongue out. "Are you ready to try pleasing me, Cabin Boy Dasker?" I nodded, panting, and he rose, squatting down with his knees on either side of my head. He rubbed my ears, softly, eliciting another little squeak. My ears have always been sensitive, and, upon at least one occasion, I had brought myself to orgasm solely by stroking their velvety inner surface. His red, red cock was thick and large, and I could smell its clean scent. I extended my tongue, and the tip was barely able to touch it. A drop of precum ran onto my tongue, and I tasted it, thrilled by its thin, spicy flavor. I opened my mouth, ready to receive my Captain's shaft and
Take whatever he gave me.

I didn't get it. He lowered himself forward, and his balls bumped my nose. "Lick, Mr. Dasker," he commanded, and I dared not refuse. My tongue caressed over the silky- soft surface of his heavy, dangling scrotum. I had never considered the deep, thick smell of an excited male before, and it made my head swim as my Captain emitted this strong scent, moaning and rumbling in his deep voice. "Harder, Mr. Dasker," he commanded, and I pushed my tongue against his balls, licking and swirling my tongue through the short hairs. I was rewarded by a hoarse groan and his hand on my head, caressing and guiding my tongue to where he wished it.

The next thing I knew, he pushed me back down and leaned forward. I opened my mouth to take a breath, and he teased his cockhead along my lips. The flavor was strong, almost overwhelmingly so, and I nibbled the warm tip with my lips. He smiled, stroking my ears. This made my eyes cross and my cock begin to fill again. He pushed his hips forward, and I suckled the whole head, now. 
I loved it; the flavor overloaded my senses, making me hungry for more. I sucked and sucked, while he began to thrust. The feeling of his cock moving along my tongue made me dizzy with sexual excitement. I pushed up, feeling his shaft rubbing along the roof of my mouth, and I knew he felt it, too, because his whole body shook.

Fang pulled out, and he rolled off of me, rolling to his back. "Climb up," he panted, his eyes full of a need I wanted so much to fill. I obeyed, of course, standing up to squat over his shaft. There was no need for him to tell me what he wanted. I knew what he wanted, and I mirrored that desire. I lifted my tail as I lowered my hips, slowly, and his huge hands cupped my buttocks as I got close. I felt the thick knob pressing to my virgin hole, and I whimpered, a little afraid. He massaged my cheeks, gently, and I felt my anus opening, slowly, wanting so much to be filled. "Put your hands on my shoulders," he commanded, and I complied, leaning way forward. I was now terribly aware of how much larger he was than me. He was over six feet and heavily muscled, while I was merely four foot and very slim of build. I bit my lip, afraid, but one look into those gentle golden eyes dissolved me fear. 
My Captain would never harm me, I knew, and that knowledge relaxed me so much, I opened wide, and he slipped inside of me.

I would be lying if I claimed there was no initial pain. There was a little, but the feeling of being filled by this large sexy male, who found me sexy in return, was so intoxicating, that my head swam with pleasure, not pain. I dimly became aware of my body sliding down his shaft, and I gasped, in amazement, when my bottom settled into his lap. He smiled. "You're perfectly sized, Mr. Dasker," he said, happily. I grinned back, in a daze, and I'm sure I nearly fainted from pleasure as he rocked forward, his cock thrusting deep within me.

Now, I was young, as I've said, but I was not so naive as to not know that there was something that made males enjoy intercourse with one another. I knew there was pleasure involved. But I had had never heard of a prostate gland, let alone become aware that I possessed one. And so, when I felt his cockhead touch my prostate, rubbing it roughly deep inside my body, it was as if someone had taken a sledgehammer to my pleasure centers. I cried out, my body straining with sheer exhausting ecstasy, and I gripped his shoulders. Fang just smiled at me and snugged me around the waist. He thrust again, and I cried out again. "Yes!" I screamed. "Oh, Captain, yes!"

"Yes," he moaned in answer, and he slowly rolled over, trapping my little body beneath his. He began to thrust, rhythmically, his hips moving against me in a slow fucking motion. I was totally yielding to him, now, my arms wrapped around his neck and my legs wrapped around his waist. I grew incoherent, just crying out wordlessly with every delicious thrust. My cock, trapped against his soft, furry belly, was being excruciatingly over-stimulated, and I was utterly stunned when I felt the feeling building inside me again. I hadn't come twice in the same night since I was thirteen. But here it was, my second orgasm, slowly building towards a messy climax.

"So good," I managed to gasp out, my lips pressed to his ear. He raised his hips and started giving me hard, fast, rolling thrusts in answer. I groaned, nibbling his neckfur, then suddenly screamed. My prostate, battered by my Captain's assault, was going spastic, and I felt my cock throb. He was panting, his eyes closed, lips curled into a lusty, manic grin of pleasure. His cock was hammering into my body, and I became suddenly aware of something else of his trying to push inside me. His knot was fist-sized, and I bit my lip against the pain of it trying to get into my poor rear. He gripped my hips and gave one, desperate shove! With a cry from me, and a howl of desperation from Captain Fang, he heaved himself forward, his knot popping past my anus with a blinding wave of pain.

When I could think straight again, I realized that, trapped as he was, Captain Fang's thrusts had grown shallower and more erratic. His face had pulled into a panting mask of need for release, and I was sure I looked the same. He lunged forward, his cock slapping my prostate one more time, and I burst. With a long yell of orgasmic bliss, I came a second time, the thinner load splashing over his belly fur. This caused my anus to squeeze down hard on his knot, and he spasmed, his voice joining mine in a note of triumphant climax. I felt warmth suffusing my rectum, and I knew he was coming. I smelt it when his cum filled me and began to leak out of my ass, and I felt his cock jumping crazily inside me. I wanted it just to go on and on, for him to fill me with load after load until my body exploded. But, as always happens, our orgasms slowly subsided, and we lay, tangled and panting, embracing each other tightly, his knot ensuring that we would stay where we were.

"That was...intense..." Fang said, when he had returned to his senses. I could barely nod, but I did, smiling and moaning, gently. "You're beautiful," the wolf grinned, "and you're wonderful. Thank you for being patient, and for helping me remember what it is to feel alive."

I smiled back, unsteadily. "Thank you," I said, "for teaching me how to please you." He rolled over again, pulling me atop him, his arms around
me. "Um...do you still want me to get off the ship at Nouveau Tortuga?"

Captain Fang stared at me. "Do you want to?"

"God, no! I want to stay here, with you."

He smiled. Turning slightly on his side, he touched a button on his wall-port intercom. "Mr. Reynolds?" he said.

"Sir?" The fox's voice crackled slightly through the electronic connection.

"Have Mr. Dasker's things brought to my cabin, will you? He's going to be staying on after Nouveau Tortuga, as my personal cabin boy." Fang smiled at me.

Several excited voices came over the intercom. I heard comments like, "Told you he would!" and "Way to go, Hal!" I blushed, hotly, feeling my ears go red, and Lieutenant Reynolds' voice held a note of relief and and joy. "Very good, Captain. Um. Shall I belay that order until morning, sir?"

Fang chuckled, watching me going even redder. "Yes, please. And Lieutenant Reynolds?"

"Aye, Captain?"

"Tell the crew to mind their own business. That goes for you, too." The wolf's voice held a note of humor that belied his stern words.

"Yes, sir!" the fox's gleeful call came.

Captain Fang and I remained in each other's arms, snuggled up tightly.
Eventually his knot shrank and he slipped from my body, but I knew our tie was stronger than that. "Happy?" I asked him.

He nodded. "Very, Mr. Dasker. I think Daria would've liked you."

"Call me Hal," I said, resting my head on his chest.