Awakening

Awakening, Part 10

With thanks as always to Arthur "Aethan" French whose story, "A Treasure, Freely Given" inspired my own - originally a continuation of his. As I was writing from memory, without a copy of his work to refer back to, my captain, corsairs and cadet came out somewhat differently. Halliday Dasker, Halivarr with its sexy, uplifted inhabitants, and the wolfish Captain Fangg are all his original creations, and appear here by his kind permission.

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Vargyr Starcruiser Gvadakoungg, Space

I don't usually remember my dreams. I am aware of dreaming vividly, but pretty much as soon as I wake, whatever has been entertaining my sleep blows away like fog in the wind, leaving at best a mood, or an image of a place I've never been. So I don't really recall what I'd dreamt in the short but deep sleep I'd fallen into pretty much as soon as I'd stretched out on the soft, sticky, cum-sodden comform plush of my bunk.

The Captain had worn me out, and I was hardly awake as I'd staggered back to my quarters (he'd declined to let me share his, ostensibly for disciplinary reasons). I was sore but sated, the taste of my Captain's cock and my own ass lingering on my tongue is what I mostly recall thinking about, more than half-hard in the slick-sticky pouch of my crewman's pants, as I fell onto my bed and immediately to sleep.

I can only guess what sort of dreams I had, to keep my sleeping body humping my mattress enough to keep me hard, if not enough to quite let me cum. And when I woke - not to the chime calling the change of watch, which I slept through, but a gentle pat, I was too distracted to try to hold onto whatever had been playing out in my sleeping mind. I arched and yawned and stretched, and bumped into the figure leaning over me, more aware of a half-familiar masculine scent before my eyes cleared enough to see him.

But I am getting ahead of myself. Maybe this is the first of my accounts that you are reading and, aside from having me accurately assessed as some sort of insatiable, cum-drunk butt-slut, you may not know who I am, or where I was, or what I was doing there. So let me bring you up to speed real quick:

My name is Halliday Dasker, and I was supposed to be on my way to what I had been told was a Scout Service Academy when the liner I was travelling on - just seventeen, and on my first interstellar voyage - was overtaken by the notorious Captain Fangg and his infamous crew of Vargyr pirateers. I was more excited than scared, until a roughneck crew of mercenary marines cornered me, supposing I was already well-versed in the sorts of things Halivarri are famous for.

Really though, aside from a little fooling around with the other boys in my Guides Troop back home (and I had been too shy to do much) I was in fact a virgin. But before I could get ganged, Fang's lieutenant broke up the party, the Captain close on his heels. The mercenary leader, sore from being deprived of his prey, had tried to literally stab Captain Fang in the back, which I prevented.

After the ensuing fight, the mercs found their contract terminated, and I was taken aboard the pirate starcruiser Gvadakoungg under the Captain's protection, alongside a handful of useful hostages taken for ransom and anything useful or valuable the pirateers could carry.

How I had gone from hostage to crewman to Captain's Mate is its own story (and I have read a romantic account, highly fictionalized, elsewhere). But what I only knew by hearsay was what Awakening to my Halivarri sexual drives would mean. Back home, it was not really talked about, beyond "telling you now would spoil the surprise" or "you'll only understand it properly when it happens to you." But you may not be Halivarri at all, or even 'Lifted, so maybe I'd better explain.

The crew that nabbed me are Vargyr - wolfish, predatory, domineering, with a strong pack instinct that pushes them to make me fall in line and know my place - as they see it. Captain Fangg could only do so much to countervail against this tendency. His leadership depends on the crew's respect for him and, past a point, he needed to indulge them. That point was in sharing his good fortune in having bonded with a young, male Halivarri. As Captain's Mate, I became a sort of good-luck mascot for the crew, and also a sort of pet.

As to what sort, precisely, that had been determined untold eons ago when the Ancients had gone around geneering and Uplifting various kinds of animals to sapience and imbuing them with racial drives and instincts. Vargyr were uplifted from canid pack hunters, with great success. No one knows what root stock Halivarri were made from, but everyone agrees that the Ancients honed our sexual instintincts far out of proportion to our modest size and unassertive nature.

As soon as my Captain had claimed me, he'd uncorked the drives and instincts that were coded into my species. Under other circumstances, these might have remained focussed on him alone. As it was, two hundred cooped-up Vargyr were also subject to my pheremones and unconscious psychic teasing, and my sex-drive responded to their interest by intensifying. Which provoked further interest, which my Captain insisted I be given opportunity to explore.

The ship's Chief Medical Officer, a member of the intimidating, huge, apex-feline, Rakasha race, described it as a "positive-positive feedback loop" and began experimenting to discover how far my sexual rut might expand, given the opportunity, patiently counselling me through my embarrassment, and encouraging me to be led by instinct on the one hand and the opinion of my Vargyr crewmates on the other.

It had become clear that even the most junior and subordinate of my betters felt they had a natural right to be intimate with me, if I seemed willing to allow it - which, instinctively, I was. It was getting hard to think much about anything else, in fact, and my regular, mandated, cadet curricular studies were suffering as a result.

I'd been derogated to remedial instruction (with a course of subliminal conditioning on the side), and by now the firm impression among the crew was that I was not very bright - but in a cute way, that only made them bossier. Worse, the Doctor had convinced my Captain that such opinion was by no means unwarranted, and he'd started talking down to me, too, when laying down discipline, or even when allowing me to share his bunk.

It was deeply embarrassing, but also weirdly exciting. I didn't know what to think of myself. And as soon as I thought I had a handle on it, some other distraction would arise, and I wouldn't be thinking at all so much as responding to instinct in ways that only reinforced the reputation I'd earned among the Vargyr crew. Which is how I came to wake up where and how I did.

That is, with a pat on the butt that turned into a paw-pad sliding down the rear seam of my pants to tease around my sore, sensitive, shivering fuck-hole while I yawned right up against the frontal pouch-panel of a Vargyr crewman, already half out of his sheath under the taut, semi-sheer fabric that contained him. I had parted my legs, lifted my ass, and nuzzled in closer to stroke him against my cheek before I was even properly awake.

"And good morning to you, too, pup," said an amused, half-familiar voice. I looked up past the thickening bulge which I was absently licking through its support panel to see Srringarr, the squadron flight-leader I'd been posed with for a soft-core holo-shoot. He smiled fondly, and rewarded my lick with a slow, teasing, rolling caress where the lubricating bead in my pants buzzed and hummed against my tender ring.

"Come on, sleepyhead," he went on cheerfully, cupping his other paw to the nape of my neck, gently kneading as he held my nuzzling nose and mouth to his snug trouser panel to feel him slowly slide further out of his sheath. The hand pawing my seat slid up to tease my undertail, then slipped back down my cleft where my half-undone rear panel exposed it.

My tail wrapped his wrist to the elbow. Still holding his regard in my eyes, I plied his sheathe with my lips through his taut panel, soaking in his scent with a soft, subvocal sound between a purr and a moan. A finger-pad grazed down to my shivering hole, which quivered with an audible chirp as it let out a bubble of cum.

His finger pad skidded through the cum-puddle, making me squirm back reflexively so he could work the leaked cum into the soft fur of my taint. "Aw, looks like someone sprung a leak. Betcha want a refill, hunh?"

"Hnnh! D-don't tease..." I stammered, as I nuzzled to hide a blush where I worked his cock fully hard with my mouth. His hand infiltrated further, thumb-pad plugging my cum-bubbling boyhole and fingers curled past my sack to wrap around my own eight chubby inches so that I arched and bucked reflexively in his semi-grip and drizzled my morning dew over his hand. He smiled down at me toothily.

When we'd posed together for Records Officer Warris' holo-shoot, he'd been affably chatty, but I'd been too nervous, distracted and, frankly, aroused to take in much of what he said, although as well as I recall it was mostly admiring or encouraging banter regarding how naturally my assumed role as an unresisting knot-sleeve came to me. I did recall him saying he'd hope to see me again, but had not expected it to occur so soon.

He was still chatty. But without a holographer barking directions punctuated by strobing flash-bulbs, Ssringarr held my attention better. His scent was compelling, and I could feel how my responsiveness, paired with my shyness, unconsciously provoked him. "I am here as your security monitor for the day. Should be my day off, but I get hazard pay for this." I couldn't tell if he were joking.

"Thought I'd wake you in time for your study hour. But you only have a few minutes. Time for a cup of caff, or maybe a load of cum, if you'd rather." His eyes had a hungry glint and his grin was pleasantly smug. "So, what's it going to be?" He had released his hold on my neck, but I didn't pull away until he nudged me aside to thumb open the tabs down the front panel of his pants. I nosed back in.

"Do I have to say?" I pleaded, blushing hot even as my lips and tongue found the sticky stretch where his sheath swelled over his knot. My hole puckered to kiss and quiver at his thumb-pad, and he milked my twitching cock for a steady stream of pre.

"Only if you actually do want a cup of caff," he replied, still grinning. "But of it's up to me to guess, well..." He'd pawed his cock out through the open side of his panel, and repossessed the back of my neck to draw my cheek along it, painting me with his scent. I gave him a furtive lick as I let out a small, urgent sound.

"I can cum, too, right...?" I asked, not wanting to assume. With Vargyr it's usually best to be told. My lips and tongue pressed just below the slick, tapered tip, holding his eyes with mine. His hand plied my cock so that it slid out of my trousers above the pouch panel which drew snug to cup my sticky sack instead, slickening my soft belly-fur to the navel. His thumb-pad still teased and stroked at my hole, like the lubricator bead I was accustomed to.

"Nope," he answered with a mocking grin. "But you can go ahead and piss, if you've gotta." He held my gaze as firmly as his hand held my cock up against me, still stroking me for pre and ending the discussion by slipping his cock into my softly sucking mouth. I answered him with a nod as I slid his length clear down my throat until my nose was buried in his sheath.

His grin broadened as in wordless submission I stretched myself under his hand, baring my fur clear to my upper nipples, and worked my whole mouth up his cock and down again. "Good pup." he said, pumping into my throat with no great urgency, circling my shivering ring with his thumb in a leisurely way as I sucked back up his length.

A soft tone chimed. "Just in time for Study Hour," Ssringar announced with a grin. "We don't have to finish this, if you want to get started in on it." He drew his cock out slowly, to gloss my lips with the pre I milked from him, tougue darting just under the plump crown. "But my dick's right here, and we don't have to stop, either - so long as you don't mind everyone actually seeing you dump your academics on purpose, just to suck more dick."

His grip on my neck loosened and kneaded across my shoulders to relax me as I set my own pace, savoring the scent and taste of cock. I met his gaze, feeling the psidelics peaking hard as I stroked his scent into the fur of my chin and cheeks, lapping, grazing, drawing it out, knowing the longer I milked at him, sucking softly, slowly, the bigger and thicker his load would be, and my eyes told him my answer.

"Good call, pup," said the squadron leader with a smug grin. "Take all the time you like." His approval was echoed by gruff, amused voices half-heard from the passage outside my quarters, and I blushed more deeply knowing that we had an audience already. I found it also made me arch my ass higher to squirm back deliberately against Ssringarr's teasing thumb. I made a wordless, interrogatory sound, a low, shy moan trailing into a high, urgent one.

"Yeah, just like that, pup," he prompted, one hand finding the back of my neck again to assure I don't hurry, the other prying his thumb-pad free of my squirming hole to let out another slow trickle of cum which his thumb teasingly painted down my taint and sack. "You like that cock, hunh? Show all of them how much, pup, Get down there and suck on my knot... Good boy."

I couldn't get that much of him down my throat. If I haven't said so plainly, or if I have but you missed it, Ssringarr's cock is big by whatever measure - about a third of a meter and bigger around than I can close one hand. In fact, I used both to pull his sheath back and expose his knot while I glided down from where I teased open mouthed. Once my lips and tongue found soft purchase at his knot, he smiled and stroked my ears. My own hands slid up to slowly stroke his length against my face-fur and neck.

"I know you'd rather it had been up your slutty little butthole, first, pup," he said apologetically, "but we don't have time for a propper knotting just now." I blushed, knowing how fast rumor travels, and how soon a reputation can spread on the renegade cruiser, but I also got harder. I lifted my seat to squirm against the thumb-pad still teasing around my ring, and bucked instinctively to thrust my twitching, leaking cock in his lazy, possessive grip.

Ssringarr tightened his grip and milked me slowly. "All this leaking from a knot in your mouth, pup?" he teased, "or is it from my playing with your cummy little fuck-hole? Ah, ah!" A chiding tone as my hips pumped urgently. "Don't try to cum, pup!" His teasing stopped, and he just held me firm against my belly instead. "You remember what I told you." The hand at my neck was just as firm as I sucked knot, nose-deep in dank pubic fur, drunk on his assertive, aroused, male scent.

I did remember. I hadn't for a moment forgotten since, and only a mouthful of knot and needing both hands to stroke his full, throbbing cock against me prevented my taking a big dose of soothers. He stared down, provokingly, and I stared back, silently imploring. I knew he wanted me to submit, as much as I wanted him to keep teasing my trembling, seeping ring with his thumb.

I thought of Yrrvngg, our initial encounter in his crew quarters, Orngg stretching me with his knot and whispering in my ear, as Yrrv begged with his eyes. I let just a trickle escape, hot down my belly and chest, before my bladder was seized by shyness. "Aw, that all, pup?" Ssringar grinned down in gloating triumph. "If you'd have really let loose, maybe I would have too." I blushed, hot against his cock where it streaked my fur sticky with his pre-seed.

"Well, baby steps, pup. Get your scent going in here, and you'll have crew lined up ten deep just to huff the air..." He eased me off his knot and back up his shaft to glaze my panting lips with his tip before letting me lap and suck there again, slowly.

"Fair warning, if you do," he continued conversationally, "some just might challenge your claim, with scent marks of their own." He drew me deeper onto his cock and I held his eyes as I sucked obediently in slow, protracted motion. "You let them, just might end up smelling like you live in the E-Deck relief room full time, so think about it, pup."

He left me there, nursing on his big, Vargish cock, my hands stroking and pumping where my mouth wouldn't reach, lazily teasing my needy, squirming hole and plying the cum that seeped out all up my cleft to soak the fur of my undertail, and all down my taint until it ran off my sack to soak my support panel transparent.

I felt tension gathering through his powerful frame. "Still, it's not bad like this," he allowed as he let me suck and lap with rising urgency, "...just totally reeking of cum. Have some more."

He teased abruptly away so that the first volley escaped my mouth to shoot clear past my head in a high arc and patter down my back audibly. I fought for the second but only nuzzled him aside so a ribbon of cum now streaked my cheek, my flank, and the comform plush beside me. I gave a small, wordless sound of need (fond chuckles from the audience in the companionway outside) and he let me pull him back into my mouth for the rest.

He hadn't spilled that much, considering all that was left. The third jet poured down my throat without me having a chance to taste it, but he slid back to make sure the next few landed on my tounge for me to savor as my hands milked his thick meat and cupped around his knot. As his climax subsided, he pulled out teasingly so the last of it drizzled my chin and belly-fur, then disengaged his thumb-pad from my hot, needy hole and exfiltrated his paw from the modesty panel of my pants.

"Good pup," he said, affectionately wiping his thumb-pad down one side of my neck, then the other, to rub the scent into the pulse points of my throat. "Let's get you started on your Scout Academy stuff, before you earn another punishment detail for slacking... not that you seem to mind those, much." I managed to stuff my still-hard cock back into the taut panel of my pants, and straddled the seat at my study carrel meekly. He leaned in with his hips so I could nuzzle him through his shipman's pants once more before he left.

"I'll be back at the change of the watch to get you to the gymn, spot you through your workout to make sure you don't hurt yourself, trying to handle any equipment too big for you." I imagined myself, sweating and straining against his spread lap, with an involuntary shiver and moan. He looked smugly pleased. I squirmed on my seat, eyeing him still half-hard in his own snug shipman's pants, and my butthole twitched. I bit my lip before I reluctantly turned my attention to the impatiently blinking vidifax.

"Now, get to it, and I'll see you in a bit," he assured. Then, with a teasing grin at the childishly simple remedial materials lighting up my screen and filling the area with cheery, bouncy music, he departed with an equally cheery, "Study hard!" My eyes didn't leave the vivid outline of his semi-stiff dick in his support panel until he'd turned away, tail tossing smugly.

Needless to say, I didn't find it easy to focus on my studies. Even with Donny Donk helping me step by step through elementary astrography, or reminding me of the difference between red hatching and amber routing arrows in shipboard safety, my thoughts kept drifting to other things.

Like the stern look my Captain gave, guiding my mouth to the cock he'd only just pulled from my ass, then smiling when I thanked him. Or how pleased Yrrvng had been, when he saw me stiff and seeping in the panel he'd soaked for me with his own scent. Or, anxiously sucking a big dose of soothers, how Doctor Courangara had, gently, fondly, disparaged my disheveled appearance and telltale fragrance.

I'd try to bring my attention back to the material at hand, only to catch a whiff of the aroma that Ssringar had daubed along my throat, adjusting my obstreperous erection in the sticky, snug panel of my pants as I tried to carefully untangle the question in front of me.

But them my thoughts would drift again until I found myself squirming slowly against my comform seat where it buzzed against the teaser bead at my hole with each fresh penalty for another wrong guess, while Donny Donk brayed and bucked and belittled me good-naturedly.

I'd feel myself blush and squirm, ears drooping at the derisive laugher and lewd remarks from the crew outside, and lap more soothers from the dispenser at my wrist, then settle on my seat with a little wriggle and try to regain my focus and make my best guess at the next answer before I could get distracted again.

"What's this? Playing with yourself when your supposed to be studying?" Srringarr was settling astride the comform seat behind me, one paw finding my hand where absent adjustment had at some point given way to lazy strokes and squeezes. He chuckled in my ear, and laced his fingers with mint to help me continue. "Well, I suppose I did tell you to study hard." He plied a fingerpad where the crown of my cock was visibly escaping my fuzzy, sticky foreskin.

"I only can give you until the end of next watch. Then I am off duty, and you have an appointment with the Doctor. So leave that and come along to the gymn." He hustled me out, actually lifting me away from the vidifax and aiming me at the companionway before I could pause or exit the program.

It would run itself out, scoring as wrong every question I had yet to finish until the allotted time expired, adding them to the accumulating queue of failed coursework I'd have to try all over again tomorrow. I followed in a bit of a daze, rubbing behind where I already missed the penalty buzzer beneath me.

Srringarr observed this with a grin. "Still haven't cum, have you?" I shook my head and he dragged a knuckle along my evident erection, grinning more broadly as my hips arched into his touch. His smile was smug as he milked me through my panel to soak it freshly transparent with my pre. "Good pup."

He drew away from my twitching arousal to guide me down the passage with light grip between my legs from behind, cupping my soaked sack softly in its pouch, thumb buzzing the teaser on my back-seam into another leaking cum-bubble, past curious crewmen crowding the passage, all the way to the lift, down a deck and aft to the gymn.

The bulkhead hatch slid open on the dank, humid, Vargyr-scented air and he hustled me inside. "Maurrux," he called, greeting a big, gray Varg spread nearly nude on a gymnbot, support pouch straining. His warm eyes took in my figure as I took in his.

"Buddy of mine," Srringarr explained. "Said he might want to help spot you. Don't mind sharing his workout bench, I hope?" I shook my head, and squeezed my stiffie shyly, sucking soothers from my wrist unit.

Srringarr's restless hands circled my waist, did something there at either side so that the belled legging portion of my crewman's pants fell away, leaving me only my nodesty panel, my high-cropped top, and my soft, impervic-soled boots. He grinned at my response, as if he had done a magic trick. I had not known a ship uniform could be configured that way.

He stripped himself as well, including his tunic and boots, then steered me over to Maurrux on his gymnbot, and gestured for him to switch places. Ssringar stretched himself back on the bench, facing us, lap spread wide, as Maurrux came up to introduce himself. I saw he was about as big as Ssringar in the front, and he smirked and gave himself a squeeze when he noticed me checking.

"So, you're the dumb little 'Vari fucker who everyone's jerking off over," he offered cheerfully with an extended hand. I gave him mine and he pulled me close, keeping my hand in his as he reached to wipe a still-sticky streak of cum from the bridge of my nose with his thumb-to bring down and brush against my lips.

"Gotta say, you look the part. I'm Maurrux," he added, as I lapped his thumb-pad with shy darts of my tongue. "Charmed." He released my hand (which immediately moved to hide and squeeze my relentless stiffie) and gently stroked my ear as I blushed.

"Now come on, get back there up against Srringar and spread 'em." He pressed up against me, crowding me toward the gymnbot bench. "I'll stand right in front of you, so I can watch you up close, tell you everything you're doing wrong, okay?"

I blushed, and nodded, and shivered, and obeyed.

As I approached the medbay for my appointment, the clear plass doors remained closed to me and, on the far side, I could see Doctor Courangara in his lab coat regarding me over the half-moon lenses of his opticals nodding his head to indicate an entryway to one side. This whispered open to a small cubicle with a bench and a white plass bin beside it labled "uniform". A further hatchway was labeled "Ionizing Sanitary Fresher". I felt a flush of embarrassment and my wrist-unit alerted me to take my soothers as I recalled I had been instructed, on my last social visit, to kindly make use of a fresher before I next returned.

The placement of a plain comform bench beside the bin made it clear I was to undress, so I sat to do that, rolling the soothers around in my mouth and absently comparing them to the flavor of Ssringarr's cum as I tugged off my boots, my top, and finally peeled down my shipman's trousers, scratching absently where my fur remained slick-sticky and damp.

Between Yrrvng, his crewmates Arrvis and Orngg, Watch Chief Harrnn and his security detail on E-Deck the previous day, my Captain last night, and Ssringarr this morning, I hardly smelled my own self under the competing layers of Vargyr scent-marks. No wonder Doctor Courangara found it a bit much. Well, this would address that, as requested. Probably for the best, before entering the sterile, medical setting.

As I put my uniform aside, I could see a contrast between the stark white plass of the bin and my clothes which - however pristine they appeared in ordinary ship lighting - here faintly but clearly showed layered, damp stains in many places, especially around the trouser panel. I hadn't been issued a change of clothes, yet. Presumably, these would be processed as I was washing up. I shrugged, palmed open the hatch, and stepped through.

The room or passage beyond was unlighted, except for a strip of luminous directional arrows on the impervic tile floor, blinking at a slow pace. I paced in slowly, and felt a cool draft ruffle my fur, rising to a brisk simulated breeze as I made my way in further. At the same time, I could feel my fur stand on end, and blow more readily in the tumbling air, as the ion field drew off days of layered, soaked-in traces of all my recent activities. I almost thought I could feel an evenly distributed weight lifting from me like a second set of clothes as the freshers whisked me clean.

By the time I stepped out the far side into a similar dressing room, my fur was lightly fluffed and sleek. A forelock of my pale, wavy hair fell into my eyes, and I brushed it back to take stock of my surroundings. Another bench and, in a bin, a folded robe and a pair of briefs that looked quite brief, indeed. I sat and picked these up for inspection before I pulled them on.

Really, they were little more than a small, snug, stretchy, semi-sheer support-pouch in front, and a narrow thong up to the waistband in back. I ran my finger over it and, yes, it was studded with nanomassagers, each with the lubricating emollient I was accustomed to, including a fat little bead that would sit like a teasing, Vargyr finger-pad right against my still knot-tender ring. Just the feel of it humming against my own finger-pad was enough to make my semi-stiff sex stir and stretch. I bit my lip and stepped into the garment before I could become more difficult to contain.

The taut waist-band of the flimsy briefs arched up to hug my hips, but plunged low and snug under my tail and low again where the sheer, snug pouch cradled me. I slipped into the robe, only barely long enough to cover me, secured the slippery sash that tied it in front, and stepped through the further doorway, one hand reaching absently to stroke at the lubricating bead to ease my shivering, sensitive bud. Doctor Courangara was waiting.

I tongued a fresh dose of melting soothers around my mouth and swallowed, tucking my half-hard cock less uncomfortably in its support pouch before tugging the flimsy ends of the short robe to try to cover it, and made my way down the passage indicated by warm, amber lights that dimmed as I passed.

It is really tempting to refer to the chamber beyond as Doctor Courangara's den, or his lair, rather than his quarters. Of all the places I had seen on the Gvadakoungg, this place looked least like a starship interior. Softly tumbling water trickled over smoothly rounded stone. Live plants exuded a scent of green growth and damp earth. Draped fabric of subtly colored brocade canopied a plush nest of thick rugs and plump cushions.

One lamp hovered over a small table with a decanter and glasses. Others were set here and there, in other colors, resting on the floor or bobbing at various heights, casting more shadow than light.

A film of incense-smoke hung in the still air, and it took my eyes a moment to adjust to the space before I actually saw the Rakasha doctor, lightly clad in a silk robe sufficiently sheer that I could see the stripes of his fur through the fabric draped across broad shoulders and baring his chest, where he sprawled across his divan with lazy elegance.

"Well, don't you clean up nicely," the Doctor greeted me with a pleased smile and a long, appreciative look. "I hardly recognize you this way, anymore! Do come have a seat?" One huge, velvet paw patted his bare thigh invitingly. Meeting his eyes froze me for a moment, until my wrist-unit chirped.

A substantial dose of soothers melted on my tongue and my eyes could fall bashfully to the sheer silk of his robe veiling his masculine parts. I nodded wordlessly, sucking my tongue as I sidled up against his thigh, shyly hiding my own arousal deep in his rough-soft fur.

"Now, Dasker," He said as that vast paw covered the small of my back to draw me into his lap, "Since we're getting cozy, I hope you do not object if I dispense with the formality of a mind-screen?" I didn't immediately follow his meaning, as I found my seat sliding beneath me, fur on silk on fur. The thong rode up my cleft as I came to rest against his prominent maleness. Before I could recover my position on his thigh, a knuckle chucked under my chin lifted my eyes to meet his gently imploring look.

"Here, lean forward..." His hand on my back slid down, teased around my tail, and slipped a paw-pad under to alleviate the tension of the thong wedged up my cleft, easing the slick, soothing teaser-bead against my ring, then withdrawing so that it was held in place by my weight resting on the broad swell of his sex beneath me. "Better?" I nodded, squirming a bit, and he smiled.

Appraising me by his own standards, he brushed one big, gentlw paw down my body, baring a shoulder as he spread the robe at the top, then loosened the sash a little so my robe fell open just enough for the straining, sheer support-pouch to peek out. "Just so." He withdrew with a soft pat of his paw to my hand, when I reached to make my arousal less evident.

"Now, as I was saying," he continued, his tone gently considerate, "Since we're being relaxed and informal, it will be easier for me to know how best to advise you if I permit myself to experience the full range of your mental emanations and not just surface impressions. But naturally, I would like to have your permission."

"I don't know if that's a good idea..." I temporized. His smile was so understanding, it was difficult to say no. Instead, I just found myself squirming my bottom around in uncertainty. His big paw on my hip stilled me, as he parted his legs a little further with a slow arch of his hips and the hand under my chin moved to lay a finger-pad to my lips, shushing me.

"But I do, Dasker. If you will simply trust me, I am sure it will help a great deal." His hand at my waist gently patted my own modestly over my lap, then reached for the decanter, and poured. The drink, whatever it was, had the same warm amber color as his eyes. "Now, if you will try to give me your attention, I thought you might be curious to learn about some of my latest findings. Here."

"Findings...?" I cringed inwardly, and my cheeks clenched reflexively around his silk-shod girth, both at failing to follow where he was leading, but also at my awkward, inane reply. But I took the glass of amber liqueur graciously, hiding my blush behind the crystal rim as I sipped something sticky, and subtly sweet, aromatic of exotic herbs.

The Doctor smiled, a thumb-pad idly stroking my under-tail. "I believe that I had offered to investigate a certain question of comparative anatomy, Dasker. If you recall?" His idling hand toyed with the thong, snug along my cleft, and the massager-bead stirred awake, plucking and stroking my hole. "Regarding the capacity of your sensitive, adolescent Halivarri parts, Dasker, to accommodate the fully aroused masculine endowment of a mature Rakashah male?" His smile widened, just showing a pale glint of his teeth.

"Oh!" My wrist unit chimed, and I lapped up a soother dose, the flavor mingling with the sweet, herbal savor on my tongue. I remembered the conversation -- the first I had spent sitting in his lap, in fact.

The soothers eased my nerves, and the clench of my cheeks melted away into an instictive wriggle against him, beneath me. He parted his thighs a little to let me nestle, then brought them together again to support me there as his huge, gently paw eased my restless squirming into a more measured, protracted motion.

"Drink your kama nectar, please," he politely urged. "It will lower those silly inhibitions of yours, while I explain." His free hand lifted the glass in my hand to my lips, then reached for a glass of his own, raised it in a genteel toast, and I found myself taking a long swallow as he took a sip as well. "May I, then?"

I nodded shyly, but my eyes said "Please". My hand not holding a glass of nectar moved to assure that a fold of my robe covered me still, in the front, sliding a handful of silk over the sheer pouch beneath.

"Good. Just follow along as well as you are able," he encouraged. "If you fall behind, I'll slow down and use smaller words." I blushed, and he smiled his kindly, knowing smile as I sucked on my tongue. "Medical monitoring has, you will be pleased to learn, determined that your highly adaptive and impressionable state, as you begin adjust to your instincts more freely, will indeed allow your pretty Halivarri self to accommodate my dimensions without risk of injury."

Again, my seat squirmed reflexively and, again, his patient hand soothed my restlessness as he gave a lazy stretch underneath me, so that I found myself stretching in sympathy, calmed by his wise regard. My back arched under his big, heavy paw, to slide the teaser-bead at my ring along the sheer silk that separated us, to find a more natural repose. I knew where I hoped this discussion was going, but looked to him expectently.

"However," he added with a note of regret that made my ears droop, "there still remain certain small issues of ...compatibility to be overcome, before such amusements can be more than a happy fantasy." His kindly look was apologetic. "Dare I hope you would still like to work with me, Dasker, to overcome them?" His hand low on my back stroked my undertail, then helped me slide forward again, as he topped off my glass.

I nodded, hiding a deepening blush behind another long sip, on the off-chance that the empathic influence I unconsciously projected left my full cooperation in any doubt. I didn't squirm, but I did need to make a protracted frontal adjustment where my sheer support-pouch had grown abruptly more snug, which he kindly pretended not to notice, just stretching one leg out more comfortably, his warm thigh sliding free of his robe to stroke along my hip.

"Very good, little Dasker," he said, pleased. "I am relieved to know that I still enjoy your interest. That will certainly help." I returned his smile a little timidly, but pleased in turn at the notion of being though helpful. "Just as it helps me, to lower my mind's guard against all your unconscious, naughty tricks," he continued, "I require your help to open yourself more fully to mine."

"Um..." I temporized, "I don't know how -- that is..." I nearly spilled my glass of nectar, but his warm hand caught and steadied me, his deep amber eyes holding my own, imploring my trust. I took a steadying sip, and let him continue.

"I will guide you, Hali," he assured me. "What I require of you is merely your full and freely given consent." Empathetic in no small degree, himself, he addressed my next concern before I needed to voice it. "I assure you, it will neither be painful nor distressing, provided that you trust me and," he admitted, consideringly, "provided that you do truly want it to happen."

Halivarr -- at least the parts where I am from -- is really a fairly small and provincial world. Rakasha were mere stories there, out-world figures of mystery, rumor and fireside tales. Nor were their psionic powers well understood. I wanted to trust Doctor Courangara, as he had always been patient and kind, but I felt a sudden shyness with him, close as he was, watching me as closely. "I do want to," I said hesitantly, "but..."

"I am, by the disciplines of my practice of therapeutics, unable to coerce or deceive you," he assured. "If it helps to understand my purpose, drink your nectar as you think it over, and I can explain my own needs more clearly. Yes?" I felt myself relax, and he gave me a soothing pat just above my tail where his warm paw rested comfortingly. "Good."

The Doctor took a matching sip from his own glass, politely topped off mine, and went on. "As I told you before, little Hali, even Rakasha are not immune to the promise of pleasure, and I do in fact find you attractive and engaging. I enjoy your company very much." I had never been entirely sure of any such thing, and it cheered me a bit to hear him actually tell me so. I looked up again into his eyes as he continued.

"But we Rakasha are, first and foremost, beings of the mind. Unless you are able to open your thoughts to me, fully and willingly, I am afraid any bodily intimacy beyond our present closeness will simply not be possible." He let this sink in for a moment, before adding, "I do hope learning of my own limitations doesn't make you feel unfairly pressured to comply. The choice is yours, of course."

And, to be fair, he let me think it over, not pressing even with his supportive regard, instead turning his attention to topping off his own glass, and then offering a pinch of granular incense to a nearby brazier where a previous pinch had gone out.

What helped me to affirm to myself that I did, indeed, trust the Doctor was the certain knowledge that my bond-mate, the Captain, trusted him completely. Chief Medical Officer under Fangg's command, I had been put under implicit orders to comply with his medical supervision as I adjusted to my new life among the crew of the Gvadakoungg. At no time had those orders been countermanded or contravened.

So, confident that it was what my Captain would choose for me, I drained the last of my nectar, swallowed thickly and said, "Um, yes? ...I mean, if you think you'd really want me to."

"I would. Thank you, Dasker." He sounded not merely pleased, but sincerely touched, but his demeanor was serious. His eyes held mine to assure he had my attention. "I will need my focus for this, so do your best not to play any of your naughty, pretty tricks, please, if you think you can restrain yourself. This can be a delicate business, you understand, without such distractions, hmm...?"

"I'll try, Doctor," I said, blushing. My cheeks tensed around his silk-shod girth as I endeavored to pull myself together, my wrist unit chimed softly, I took my soothers, and tugged the short, sheer, satiny hem of my robe down to veil my untamable erection - hardly playing with myself at all.

Doctor Courangara chuckled softly, and I knew just how much my eager compliance pleased him. "Good boy, Dasker." I blushed and wriggled a bit at his praise but kept my bottom taut and firm where his vast, warm paw slipped under my tail to still me. "With me, now -- just breathe..."

His chest rose, so that the silken robe slipped down his broad shoulders heedlessly. "And relax." With the lazy, pleasurable grace appropriate to his feline nature, still steadying me with a hand at the base of my tail, he stretched and arched his hips in a languid thrust that lifted my own to press into my stoic, steady grip where my robe hid my unrelenting arousal.

I breathed, fears forgotten, and did relax - my cheeks unclenching to settle my weight atop his maleness to feel him firm and swell against me. The massage bead soothing my sensitized ring hummed steadily, calming me further, and I was barely squirming my seat against him when I finally looked back to his eyes, and was caught there, transfixed with wordless wonder.

I felt him with me, thinking alongside my own thoughts and, for a timeless moment was aware of myself as he knew me, seeing myself through his older, wiser, unfathomably more knowing eyes. Small of size and kind arousing competing impulses, to protect and cherish on one part, but to playfully tease and toy with on the other. Deceptively fragile, with small bones, but at the same time pleasingly, sensually fit, limber, sleek, and strongly but sensually knit.

I saw myself as I'd appear to a stranger, pale fur with pale markings, my eyes large, changefully hazel, trusting and vulnerable behind a wavy lock of hair that fell between my ears, my mouth slightly open in an expression of slow, sleepy puzzlement that made me instantly forgive the impression others had gathered as to my dim-wittedness.

And, as Yrvnng had tried to tell me, I could sense as well how the dominance-driven Vargyr instinct would find it laughably, enderaingly fetching. This amused the Doctor, and excited me even as I tried my best to be still, seeing how I was bound to draw on their basest, assertive attentions in the most primordial, irresistible manner.

I understood the particular fascination I held for Vargyr, as Doctor Courangara saw it clearly: predatory impulses uplifted to a desire for dominance, assured that it would meet scant resistance from the shy, submissive demeanor I conveyed through instinctual, provocative poses and sidelong looks. It would matter not a bit if I fought to assert myself, I saw. Such would only draw out their competitive, dominant, pushy side - in Vargr, only just short of bullying - as surely as my coy, shy uncertainty did.

"Easy, there, little Dasker." Doctor Courangara's basso purr warm in my ear as his presence in my mind radiated calm assurance, a feeling not unlike that of his vast, warm paw cupping my seat to ease my restless wriggle into a slower, protracted motion, rewarded with a teasing arch of his hips as I felt what he felt - my restive bottom, teasing, squeezing along his stiffening sex with the brush of fur on silk.

Before I could get too lost in shared sensation, I found myself back in my own mind, simply breathing, leaning into the Doctor's firm, supportive hand, looking up at his wide, wise face looking down at mine with a patient, indulgent, satisfied smile as, catching myself, I squeezed my cheeks around him, firmly.

"Very good, Hali. That was very informative for me, and I am pleased for you, as well, doing your best not to distract me like you normally do." I returned his smile, giving my own hidden sex a soft squeeze. "And do you know why?" I shook my head and sought out the little glass of kama liqueur to clear the lingering taste and texture on my tongue.

"Because it resolves a doubt you've had, that needn't worry you any more." He smiled at my confusion, and explained carefully, in with small words. "How well you did, not teasing when I needed you not to, see? You can control your responses, if you really try."

I smiled shyly back, not fully understanding why he was so pleased at my accomplishment, but glad to have earned his approval.

"Now that you know you do have a choice, Dasker, I'll arrange for it to remain one for you from now on, if you like," the Doctor offered kindly. "I know how hard you find the idea of not having choices in the progression of your adaptation, so consider it my gift."

I smiled back. Between them, the repeated dosage of soothers and the exotic liqueur had me feeling if not confident then at least less anxious, and I gave a happy, little wriggle against his spread lap. But of course, I had questions. "A choice...?" I cringed inwardly at my inane reply, but the Doctor just smiled patiently as he slid a fingerpad under my tail.

"Now that you know just how your Vargyr betters see you, Hali, you'll be much more conscious of the impression you make," he elaborated carefully. "I have rooted that base awareness, now, to your unconscious empathic gift. Without, of course, tampering with your own feelings - embarrassment, self-consciousness, arousal, shame and so on - in any way," he carefully reassured.

"But now, knowing what you do - just how you come across and how that makes you feel about yourself," he continued, "you can decide whether it is appropriate to tease and provoke them or not, yes?" I remembered Yrrvng, tempting me to leave my assigned coursework to suck on his knot while his soft, hot tongue teased my hole, and how it had felt to let myself give up, to give in, and nodded.

"Understand, this assures you have a full say in your own conduct, going forward. Choosing to tease, if you do," he continued, "will not only affirm what your superiors already suspect - namely, that such behaviour is intentional - but will be an excellent reinforcement of all of your subliminal therapies, as well." He looked so pleased for me that I gave another instinctive squirm, but I bit my lip.

His warm, reassurring paw calmed my restless wriggling to a slow, deliberate stroke of my nearly bare, fuzzy cleft along his silk-shod maleness beneath me. "But...?" he prompted, sensing my indecision.

"But if they've been right all along... If I really do tease and stuff on purpose..." I stammered and blushed, lapped a big dose of soothers, and tried to continue. "Won't deciding to do it anyway..." I trailed off uncertainly, distracted by the taste and texure melting thick in my mouth. But he knew what I meant.

"Yes, of course, Dasker," Doctor Courangara explained patiently. "Which is why you'll need to choose to. When you do tease, now, it's an admission, an agreement." He nodded pleasantly. "Not just with their impression of you, but with all of it. Understand?"

"Like, the submissibles, too?" I asked, wide-eyed, as I sucked my tongue. My hand moved to make an adjustment to my support pouch as I blushed and shivered. The Doctor smiled, teasing a finger-pad down my cleft slowy and I felt my seat squeeze his captive girth.

"Yes, and no, Dasker. Those are just notions, my little suggestions." His smile was carefully polite as he clarified. "However many you may choose to respond to in your studies, it won't actually make them happen for you." Which made sense, of course. It's not like Donnee Donk could emerge from the remedial tutor program to unbutton his big, goofy bulge for me to play with.

"But if you choose to act like the naughty little tease that your superiors already believe you to be, because you agree with them, well..." He smiled enigmatically and allowed himself a lazy, arching stretch beneath me. "That could make something actually happen, couldn't it, Hali? That might make it all true."

"...True?" I managed with a little gasp after I had swallowed. The hand adjusting my incorrigible erection gave a slow squeeze. The Doctor topped off my glass, passed it to me thoughtfully, idly slipped a paw-pad under the thong of my lower garment, and idly tugged it taut.

"If that is in fact how you want to be treated, Dasker," he confirmed. "Which is why the choice has to be up to you, entirely. And why I mustn't alter how you really do feel about all that, you understand?"

He sought and held my gaze, and I realized he was waiting for my consent, just lazily tugging the humming conditioning massagers against my cleft and sensitized, shivering tailhole and allowing me think it over.

A sip of nectar washed over my tongue, bringing the soother savor back with it. I let my tongue-tip wet my lip as I sucked at the flavor. I thought over the help he was offering me, honored to be assured of a choice, and the means to assess and assert it. I couldn't find any downside, any way I thought about it. I let the offer roll around in my head for a bit, to be sure, as I rolled my fuzzy foreskin through my sheer support-pouch with a thoughtless stroke of my thumb.

Doctor Courangara didn't press at all, except where my thong-divided cleft slid and stroked against him through sheer, slippery silk to keep the massager bead humming and plucking my slick-sticky, quivering butthole. I realized that I was in fact teasing him, right now, as I weighed my decision, and wondered whether I ought to be, so I wound up only getting more puzzled. I squeezed my cheeks snug for concentration, milking a stream of pre with my thumb.

The Doctor just smiled down at me fondly, and again offered a glimpse of myself from his perspective, teasing him hard with the soft fur of my restless bottom, puzzlement plain on my face as I vacantly sucked on my tongue, my cock under my thumb, slowly painting transparent with pre all along the silken support pouch holding it captive. I gasped softly in realization and saw my eyes get big and dark, faint rings of gold-flecked hazel around wide, shallow, black pools.

I returned to myself knowing that he very much hoped I'd accept, but I hadn't discerned if he minded my teasing, which I still hadn't decided if ought to continue or not, when my rising anxiety of decision prompted my wrist unit to chime. I took the doubled dosage of soothers, washing them back with the last half-sip of kama liqueur.

"Good boy, Dasker," said the Doctor, with a lazy arch of his hips. "And, I certainly do not mind your naughty little tricks, Hali. If you don't object to my attentions, in return...?" A velvet pad stroked my cleft, under the teasing thong to brush across my sticky ring, which met it with a soft-suctioned pucker like a little kiss.

"You don't?" I found that I very much wanted to use my choice responsibly. The thrust of his hips where his finger-pad grazed pressed my whole support pouch into my hand. I squeezed slowly, and milked myself with my pre-drizzled foreskin under slick, clinging silk.

"So long as you really mean to, I don't mind one bit, I promise." His smile fond and indulgent as he topped off my glass and lifted his own, half full. "To your choice then, Dasker, a toast: Conduct is consent."

I smiled back, and refreshed the savor on my tongue. I knew officer table manners said I should toast in return, and I squirmed a bit. "To..." I offered, "um," I rocked on his finger-pad, back and forth, and said the first thing I thought of, "...dirtier submissibles!"

"Very well," he chuckled, and drank. "So, shall we?" I felt his vast mind like a hot breath all through mine, stirring and stoking all the complex feelings and fears he was weaving together in silent offer, to decide for myself. I met his eyes, sucked my tongue and nodded. His mind gently pressed, and mine gave way willingly, and I felt him make the adjustment final.

Then, with a satisfied sigh, he sank back into his cushions, his mind's touch withdrawn, and drew me down with him to nest between his thighs, hiding my shy blush in the soft-scented fur of his chest, and my incessant arousal tucked down to slide against his. His finger-pad, trapped in my thong, steered me in a lazy arch against him.

"Now, that wasn't so bad after all, was it, Hali?" he said in a confidential purr. "And thank you for trusting me to help you." His praise made me shiver, my tail circling his wrist, and a slow, reflexive squirm against his teasing paw-pad stroked my hidden arousal all around where his was hidden by his robe.

"So," I ventured, "...does this mean you'll..." I licked my lip and sucked my tounge as I stuttered and stumbled, "...that we can, you know... do it?" I remembered my manners. "If you want to, I mean." I caught his sex with my thigh and squeezed it against my own bashfully.

"It does, Dasker, and I do." His mind shadowed mine just enough to feel he really meant it. "But another time. It's getting late, and aren't you on duty at the Captain's table, sixth watch? That's barely ten minutes, and you'll need to dress, however pretty you look in these. I'll save them just for you, whenever you can visit again, yes?"

"The Captain!" I gasped, and my ring squeezed his fingerpad, which he gently withdrew as I sat up in a panic, my wrist unit chiming. When I'd taken my soothers, he was steadying me, shushing my urgency with that warm finger-pad soft against my parted lips.

"Easy, now, Cadet. What is the trouble? You aren't even late, this time." He smiled, soothingly. "Tell me, please, and be calm." And I did feel calm. I licked his finger-pad shyly, nodded, and explained.

"See, I am supposed to ask, to use a fresher..." I began. "That is, he said he'd tell me when I could, and..." I trailed off, looking back to the softly lighted passage I'd come in by. "But when I was told to come see you, I guess I forgot..." Sitting up had made my straining support pouch prominently visible, so I tried to tuck myself into a less blatant display, without much luck.

"Well, I would hate for you to start breaking ship discipline just to see me, Hali," he said with a hint of fond exasperation. "So try not to be so careless in the future. But I would also hate to get you in trouble. No one has used the ionic sanitizer but you today, and ship systems haven't cycled yet."

I couldn't guess what he intended to convey by this, so I just listened, bashfully squeezing the slick-sticky foreskin around in my pouch and doing my best to pay attention.

"Just go back through, to where you left your uniform, after you hang these up in the cubicle as you go in." Deft hands secured the sash of my robe, closing it just enough to hide the sheer support pouch as I withdrew my hand guiltly. "We'll just reverse the polarity on the ion field, and I won't mention it to the Captain, so long as he doesn't ask."

He lifted me from his lap and steadied me as I found my feet, then rose as well. "I also need to freshen up, and dress. Go on, now, Dasker, and I'll see you at table."

His vast, gentle paw had just slipped below my tail to shoo me off with a pat to the bottom when he paused, snared the thong with a fingertip and tugged slowly, drawing me back. "Oh, speaking of, Hali, one last thing..."

I paused, shyly sliding the short hem of my robe down to cover my embarrassing arousal as the Doctor lifted my chin with the hand not keeping a playful tension on the greasy little teaser bead at my tailhole so that I met his eyes with mine.

"Something else I have learned, that I hope will amuse you to know," he said in a low, confessional tone, "as much as it has amused me. Your special dietary supplement, to help you avoid the irritation of dry climax and so on - you remember?" he asked, releasing my thong and patting my bottom with a lingering, slighty possessive hand as he walked me out.

I nodded. He smiled, allowing his frontal paw to part my robe and loosen my sash, drawing a finger-pad along my exposed support-pouch, soaked and slick where I seeped continuously now. The same supplement also elvated my pheremone output, I recalled.

"I ran a comparative analysis, and learned that it works exactly the same on Vargyr." He smiled. "I must have mentioned it to the Captain where others could overhear because, next I know, there is a big order from Commisary requesting a regular supply to be freely available for the entire crew, as a sort of optional seasoning with meals and snacks."

He waited to see my eyes grow wide with dawning comprehension. My receptivity to Vargyr pheremones had been elevated as well, but my first thought was of Vargyr cum - that the more I was able to coax from them, the greater the volume they'd learn to produce. I recalled how I had intentionally delayed Ssringarr's release, that morning, and blushed.

"It has become very popular, too - quite the fad!" He added happily. "I just thought you should know, in all fairness. Now," he gave my bottom a final, firm pat. "Back out through the ionizer, and get dressed."

The Doctor had slipped away silently to his dressing room, and I made my way back to the little changing room outside sanitizer. My robe was spotless, as I laid it back in its bin, but my undergarment was sticky and also fragrant. I sniffed my briefs, trying to smell what Vargyr smelled, but it just smelled like me.

I saw the directional arrows, this time aiming me out toward the passage, and followed their slow-blinking walking-pace back through the reversed ion-field as I'd been instructed.

I expected the warm, soft breeze and fur-raising tingle, but not the dank, almost barnyard scent, nor the sensation I felt, as though I'd walked carelessly into a big spinner-web, sticky and clinging. As momentum carried me forward, the air around me palpably thickened with a humid caress that soaked to my skin.

Keyed to Vargyr scent-signals, my nose twitched as I untangled the richly layered, competing aromas I could feel settling, clinging between each standing hair of my short, soft fur. Ssrigarr's sweat, and his big gymn buddy's. Hints of E-Deck, of Arrvis and Orrngg. Clutching the thick fluff around my stiffening sex, Yrrvng's teasing scent-claim.

And, in more places than I had remembered it getting into my fur, unmistakably, the scents and sensation of cum, theirs and my own, glossing my lips, my chin. Days of it since my Captain, my bond-mate, had forbade me to wash. Even as it trickled down my undertail to glaze me clear to my taint, I shivered with relief knowing that I'd only disobeyed a little.

Back in the far changing cubicle, my crewman's duty-whites lay where I had left them, and in the same condition. My semi-sheer, cropped top smelled of armpit and E-deck, dry on its outer surface but dank inside, under my arms as I tugged its high-cut hem down to graze my nipples. My crewman's pants soaked sticky all around it's sheer support panel, where it cuppped my seeping sex in Yrrvngg's scent and my own, and the cum-slick rear seam snuggly hugged my cleft.

One bronzium button-tab at the front, and three in back, stubbornly refused to fasten at all. The ship systems chimed the start of Sixth Watch, shrill in the small space, startling me so much that I think I may have actually peed a little. I slipped quickly into my slick-sticky ship-boots, absently assuring the big, greasy teaser bead was tight against my trembling ring where it belonged, and hurried off to the Officers Mess before I could be late.