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"What do you mean, we got ANOTHER stowaway?!"

The quartermaster bit his pierced lip as his captain berated him. "I'm sorry captain, we're not sure how this one snuck in. As soon as I find out though, you can bet your ass the ones responsible are gonna get their backsides lit up and--"

"Hmmph! Let me see the stinkin' freebooter!"

Captain Foo shouldered past Hank and into the hold. There, he saw his ship's newest, unsought addition. A buff and massive dragon, all green-scaled but but for a red 'trim' running down his chest and abdomen, and along the inside of his wings. A thick tail curled around his legs, and a fin on his head gave him the appearance of having a natural mohawk. He was currently bound up with his big wings folded under the ropes, his powerful form constrained, gagged, and naked, as the pirates around him debated what to do.

"Arr, if'n the captain finds out we've had two stowaways in as many days . . . every single one of our arses is cooked!"

"Aye, but we can't exactly keep this one a secret--lookit the size of him! He'll eat through half our stores before we make next port."

"Roland, maybe we can sneak him down to yer cabin? Ye got some extra room in there, don't ye?"

"Me?" the muscular wolf squeaked. "Why me? Last time I got caught breaking the rules I had to sleep on my stomach for three days!"

"Yarr, but it's better than all of us getting it, en't it? C'mon, take one for the team!"

"If that's what this is about, why don't you take him, Brent? You'd have just as much room in your cabin as I do if you'd only stop the nightly parades to yer 'rear deck'!"

"Hey, now what is that supposed to mean!"

As the wolf and the shark nearly came to blows, the rest of the gathered crewmembers just sighed and shuffled their feet, while the dragon murmured into his gag. They weren't aware that their captain was right behind them all, slowly getting more and more angry, his face turning red and a vein in his forehead looking about read to burst. That is, until he opened his mouth:

"NOW JUST WHAT IN DAVY JONES LOCKER ARE YE BUNCH OF UNSAVORY, POWDER-WETTIN' BLAGGARDS UP TO IN HERE!!!"

"Err--Captain!"

"Ahhhh!"

"Uhh, we were--we were just--"

"Just planning on abetting a stowaway to hide aboard me own ship? Ye lot were so scared of the tanning ye'd get for letting him sneak onboard, let me show ye what ye get when I'm really ticked!" he announced. "Bare those scurvy arses and bend over, the lot of ye!"

"Right here?! Uh, but Captain--!"

"No buts! Unless ye want an extra helping!"

The men blanched, but after a quick glance at each other did as their captain instructed. They all knew better than to incur any additional wrath. There was soon a long line of prostrated booties before the foo dog, appearing in an array of different colors due to the variety of species. Each one was nicely built with a firm, round bottom that could take a good lashing.

"Mister Hank!" he roared.

"Aye, captain?" the strapping ram asked, stepping down into the hold.

"Yer strap, if ye would."

"Aye, captain," he said, taking it out of the holster at his side where he routinely kept it. "I'll be happy to bust the lot of these deserving sea dogs for you--" He was interrupted by Captain Foo snatching it out of his grip. He blinked. "Captain?"

"Not just for them, Mister Hank. As quartermaster, it's yer duty to check all incoming cargo, is it not? So this stowaway only could've come onboard if _ye_were lax in yer duties." He held Hank's gaze for a moment, staring him in the eye, before pointing at the line. "Take yer place."

The ram flushed at that, and seemed half-willing to argue with his captain. But moments later he gave a nod. "I suppose I do deserve a dose of discipline . . ." he allowed with a grumble, letting his trousers fall and bending over to align his tough and muscular ram bottom with the others.

"Yarr." Captain Foo looked over the line . . . and allowed a devilish leer to come over his face. While he was pissed as hell at his crew for being so negligent of their duties, he couldn't help but admire their fine buttocks all in a row like this. It was truly a glorious sight to behold. But then he raised his strap up and went to work, laying marks on each and every backside as he paced up and down the line, a chorus of yelps and shouts following each hard lick. Soon the wide array of colors had eased to become merely varying shades of red, the manly tough and grizzled seamen wiggling their cheeks and pleading like naughty boys. Only Hank managed to keep his stoicism, until the very last volley which had even him crying out and begging for mercy.

As the last of the cracks faded and the crew stood to grab their burning asses, he returned the strap to a tearful Hank and said, "Now off with ye, ye lily-livered scalawags! And don't let me find anyone else has snuck on board, lest ye want yer collective backsides slung over the poop deck rail and yer rosy cheeks mooning every passing ship we sail by!" He gave further spanks to the men as they went sniffling by, spurring them to yelp and hop up the stairs faster. They'd likely be on their way to the ship surgeon to appropriate any stores of soothing lotion left over from the last time there'd been a mass spanking, followed by a group ass-rubbing session in the mess hall which was free for anyone to attend.

"As for ye--!" he said, turning to the captive dragon, but then stopped in his tracks. From the dragon's slit had emerged a massive, dripping boner, having apparently become quite aroused from watching the pirate crew be spanked. Captain Foo cocked his head at it, then grinned. "As for ye, ye're coming with me to my quarters!" he said, grabbing that dick and hauling the large reptile off despite his gagged protests. * * * * *

"All right, now who are ye and who sent ye?" Captain Foo said, removing the gag from the dragon's mouth.

The dragon took a few moments to spit out pieces of sock, and get his jaw working. He was still tied up but was now at least somewhat more comfortable, lying on the pirate captain's own bed. The man's room was messy, with dirty clothing and sea charts tossed all about, some with odd stains on them. Wide bay windows offered a view of the ocean, the water sparkling in the bright sun. "I'm Azraell," he said at last, "And I sent myself!"

"Oho? Is that so. And why would ye have done a thing like that?" the captain asked conversationally. He reached down to between the dragon's legs and began to glide his fingers up and down his scaly length.

"Waaagh! H--Hey, what're you doin'?!" he gasped.

"Pumping ye for information, of course!" Captain Foo replied, his eyes twinkling.

The dragon groaned, squirming naked in his ropes. This type of situation was completely foreign to him. Azraell was so beefy and strong, it was rare for him to feel as helpless and vulnerable as this. But here he was, tied up in the pirate's own quarters and at his mercy, with the captain's sure, dominant hands wrapped around his hard dick. And it was with a cringe that he felt himself responding to the touch.

He hadn't meant to make his attraction to the affable, bearded foo dog known so soon. But as he'd watched the captain assert his command so effectively, barking out order at his men for them to literally raise their rumps to him in submission, Azraell couldn't help but be turned on. When the spanking then started and he watched the powerful muscles of the pirate's bicep flex every time he raised up the strap, only to bring it down on a masculine writhing rump, one after another . . . Azraell's arousal turned into a full-fledged erection. He'd stood there, bound in his ropes, helplessly hard, watching the men repeatedly squeal like piggies as the strap lashed down on their naked rears. His cock had been downright dripping by the time it was over. He couldn't help but imagine how his own ass would've fared under the same punishment, which only made him even harder.

And that same erection hadn't abetted since, with the captain taking hold of it as it were just another piece of treasure for him to help himself to. The dragon's face grew heated as the man once more repeated his question: "Why did you stow away aboard me ship, a big fella like you?"

"I . . . I . . . " the big dragon had stuttered, flushing as the man thumbed the head of his dick. While he was normally rather dominant himself, in matters of the bedroom he became a total sub.

"Harr! Perhaps I'm going about this the wrong way," Captain Foo spoke, and then, as if reading his mind: "Perhaps it'd be better if I spanked it out of ye!"

"Huh?!"

Before Azraell could say more, he was flipped neatly across the captain's lap. Despite his impressive size the pirate had made it seem easy. He hung down over the side of the bed, his midsection resting over Captain Foo's sturdy thighs, his arse raised high and vulnerable. None of the ropes which criss-crossed his body covered his rear, and as he squirmed in anxiety the pirate lifted up his tail to expose even more of his muscular ass.

"Mmmm, a fine looking bottom on ye. I'm going to enjoy this," the foo dog commented with another confident squeeze to his dick, which he'd kept firm hold of. It made Azraell moan in surprise.

"Ooahhh--"

WHACK!!

"--AAAHH!!"

The dragon gaped behind him to see Captain Foo holding a wooden paddle in his hand, a skull and crossbones symbol carved into its business end. Where had it come from? And how could it hurt so bad even through his tough dragon hide? But all further questions were driven from his mind as the captain raised it high and gave him another hard wallop.

"Yoowww!"

"I went easy on the last stowaway we had. Just put him right to work! But now I'm good and mad, so ye're not getting off quite so easy!" The captain forcefully slapped the paddle down with every declaration, drawing a squeal from the dragon as he wriggled his beefy buttocks. While each of his green cheeks were rock-hard, packed with solid muscle, they still clenched and compressed in shock each time the paddle landed across them.

"Aoowwww! Stooop!" he cried.

"Arrr, not used to a proper spankin', are ye?" Captain Foo asked, noting his reactions. "Probably due to this thick skin ye got. Too bad fer ye, this paddle was buried treasure I found on a little island not too far from here. It's said t' be enchanted by Poseidon himself to make even the toughest of sea dogs whimper."

"Yeaaargh! I believe it!" Azraell yelped, twisting all over the pirate's lap. He couldn't help but thrash as the paddling kept up and his firm globes sizzled. But the ropes on him held, keeping him from getting far as the hard wood cracked down again and again. He let out a yowl and twisted. His cock, forgotten in all the stinging stimulation laid on his ass, nevertheless throbbed in Captain Foo's grip.

The captain gave it another squeeze, returning Azraell's attention to it. "Urk!"

"So are ye ready to talk yet? Or shall I give ye a few more pops?"

"Nooo, I'll talk!"

"Then out with it!"

The dragon took a few deep breaths to collect himself, easier said than done lying across a perverted pirate's lap with his hand wrapped around his hard-on while his butt cheeks steamed from a sound spanking. He dearly wished he could at least lower his tail, because he had the feeling his hole was also exposed to the captain's lecherous sight. He swallowed.

"I . . . I wanted . . . to join your crew . . . "

He was interrupted by another hard swat, this one thankfully delivered by the captain's hand. But it still hurt fiercely on his tenderized globes. "YOW!"

"Arr! I've heard that story from the last stowaway, too! At least give me something original!"

"B--But it's true!" he protested. He got two more heavy slaps on the rump for his trouble. "Oooh!"

"All right, why should we take on a landlubber like you?"

"I ain't no landlubber!" Azraell sputtered, "I've been earning my keep on ships just like this one since before I was a teen! And I can do the job of any three of your men!"

"Oho?" The foo dog cocked his head, seeming to enjoy the thought of that. "Is that so, big guy. Very well, what can you--"

"Judging from the prevailing winds we're on a heading of south by southwest, travelling at around 10 knots. The weather is sunny now, but rain will probably start around 2nd bell tonight so you'll want to batten down the hatches before then. I've performed raids and boarded ships before. I can strike a target with a pistol from twenty paces, and I'm excellent with a cutlass. Er, I can demonstrate those last two if you'd untie me," he said with a faint blush. "I haven't served on a ship as big as this one before, but I pick up skills quickly and can learn any routine. I can also fly, of course, so if you need any short-distance reconnaissance--"

"HAH!" Captain Foo barked out a guffaw. He got to his feet and flipped the hulking dragon back onto the bed so his smarting buttocks pressed against the mattress. "Alright, you got me interested! We'll start ye out on a trial basis and see how ye do. If ye prove yerself useful after a week we might even let ye have some of yer clothes back."

"Er . . . thanks," Azraell said, while inwardly wondering: _Wait, does that mean I'm gonna have to serve naked until then?_He wriggled in his bonds, trying not to think too hard about that. "I'd love to get started as soon as possible and prove myself . . er . . . captain?" He gulped as the foo dog was leaning over him again, smirking. All of a sudden the pirate grabbed his cock. "Ah!"

"Oho, plenty of time for that later. For now I've got just a few more questions," he said, sliding his hand up and down the dragon's rigid pole.

"Ahh--ah! Yes?" he asked, squirming.

"Why did ye want to serve on my ship in particular?"

"Oh! Err . . . " At that the musclebound dragon blushed even more deeply. "W--well, everyone knows about the Buckin' Buccaneers . . . the kind of stuff you guys do . . . Everyone in port's got an uncle or a brother or someone who's served on your ship as captured booty . . . or a cabin boy . . . or has seen what you do to the navy men who come after you . . . I just . . . "

"Wanted to experience a taste of that yerself?"

Azraell mutely nodded.

"Well!" Captain Foo grinned broadly. "In that case, there's only one thing left to do!"

"Wh--What's that?"

"This!" And the captain sped up his pumping. In what felt like mere moments, Azraell's clawed toes were curling and then what felt like a white surge passed through his whole body, centering on his groin. Then he let out a deep cry as he erupted all over himself.

"Uwaaaahhhhh!!"

"Harr! Thought so!" Captain Foo shook his hand out. "You may be well-skilled in other areas, but if yer gonna be one of my seamen yer gonna need to learn to improve one thing: yer stamina!"

"Ahh . . . ahhhh . . . "

"But don't ye worry, we'll work on that. A few weeks on this ship, we'll train ye to hold your load at least twice as long," the captain bragged. As he spoke, he drew his fine cutlass and took one slice across the ropes tying the muscled dragon's body. They fell loose, and Azraell slumped to his knees on the floor, covered in his own cum.

"Ahh . . . th--thanks, Captain," he panted, " . . . I'll try to improve."

"Good! Now get started! Remember, you've got one week to impress me!" the foo dog leered, drawing Azraell up and giving him a hard spank to spur him out the door. He was about to meet the rest of his new crewmates red-arsed and naked, with dollops of creamy jizz all over his chest and abdomen. A death-sentence of humiliation on any other ship.

On this ship? Business as usual.