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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 other-

wise 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 hideyholes 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 mothers 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 suspiscions of what was occuring. 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 omni-present 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 detatched 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 tassles 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 accomodated 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 to the floor.

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

callouses 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 its 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 its

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 pull 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 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. 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. "Its 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. "Its

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. "Its 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 those

huge, muscled arms. 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, revealling 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 ownsheath 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 legs 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,

squating 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

ecstacy, 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 excrutiatingly 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 a 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.