Awakening

Author's Note - This story began as a sequel to a story by another author, "Treasure Freely Given", by Arthur "Aethan" French, which I had read and enjoyed but did not have on hand when I began writing. Therefore, my captain, cruiser and crew are rather different from those he had envisioned. My rendition of his protagonist, Halliday Dasker as heard through the voice of his supposed memoirs, is my own. Hali appears here with the kind permission of Arthur "Aethan" French, and with my grateful acknowledgement of his literary origins.

This story concerns the calculated manipulation of sexual urges in the context of dominance and submission among males of fictional races supposed to have been genetically "uplifted" from animal species and tailored to exhibit certain fixed behaviors including instinctual need to sexually dominate or submit to others. If you are disturbed by the use of psionics, subliminal programming and drugs to deliberately enhance and strengthen such instincts, or by the ongoing and intentional psychological conditioning of a free-willed sentient being to accept his role as a sexual plaything to many male partners, then you should not read this story. If you cannot tell that this story is fiction, please seek professional help.

Awakening, Part 3

My name is Halliday Dasker, from the Halivarr system on the driftward fringe of the Antares Sector. I'm not human but Halivarri - a "made" or "uplifted" species - and thus pretty lucky to have been accepted as a cadet at the Scout Service Academy at Phojla. As a rule, humans get preference over other races in Imperial Space, a fact that was pretty crucial to my present circumstances, but I won't go into the politics just now. No one who has been with me this far is reading my account for the politics.

Physically, I guess I am on average fairly small - significantly shorter than my Vargyr crewmates and less powerfully built. But I am told that I am almost irresistably attractive, with large eyes, rounded ears that are sensitive to touch and turn pink when I blush, shoulders proportionally broad and waist comparatively narrow. Contrary to the expectations of some seem to base on such traits, I'm told really don't look especially feminine. In some ways, in fact, I am quite noticeably male - though I get more pats on my bottom, which I am told simply begs for it. Or maybe my long, restless tail simply draws the eye there.

None of which would much matter in the Imperial Scout Service. But as it happens, I didn't become a Scout Service cadet as planned, but rather had been kidnapped by space-pirates - indeed, by the notorious Vargyr revolutionary, Captain Fangg, and the crew of his Star Cruiser Gvadakoungg. Vargyr, you see, are another non-human, "uplifted" race, in their case with a very competitive, dominance-defined culture.

Being second rate in the military hierarchy of the Imperial Interstellar Naval Command had not suited my Captain at all. But the story of his mutiny will be told later. What matters at present is that having been brought aboard with the other passengers of the starliner that the Gvadakoungg raided for fuel and supplies and to send a message to the Imperium, I had a change of heart about joining the Scout Service and, after finding myself the Captain's mate in more sense than one, I defected to the pirateer crew. It seems that Halivarri are especially attractive to the assertive, wolfish Vargyr, and certainly I found a certain fascination in their attentions.

Bonding with my Captain was only the beginning of my full awakening to my Halivarri nature, however. Once unlocked by my initial experience with the Captain, I found that my sexual instincts were blossoming and that as a result I was becoming more alluring to my Vargyr crewmates, and their attentions were becoming harder for me to refuse. Most recently, an intimate encounter had ended up broadcast (I would later learn) to the entire crew before a security detail was sent to detain us for unauthorized access to a weapon station for supposed privacy.

When the lift tube from gunnery station 17 opened onto the B Deck passage, the security detail were waiting. Arrvis received brusque but effective attention: a stun baton set at full charge came down on the back of his neck where it met his skull, and he fell to the floor like a stone. But for me they had something else in mind.

Perhaps you have never had the experience of being subdued with a stun baton, but they are familiar equipment with most security forces, at least out here in Antares Sector. Stunners do no lasting damage, and at a low setting offer little more than a sudden, shivering tingle under the skin. Sometimes a gentle warning is all that is needed.

Or sometimes a security team will interpret its orders rather broadly as these Vargyr did now, backing me into a corner of the access-way with their stunners lit a deep indigo-blue indicating a power setting that was quite low so as to give only a deep, throbbing tingle of warning. Even so, I did not immediately realize their intent until one of them looked me in the eye as he swept his baton slowly down my bare torso, only a centimeter away from my three right-side nipples, and spoke. "There is no audio from the security monitors in a gunnery turret," he said as his baton stroked lower, guided by my arched hipbone.

"Except to ship security, of course," said another who had slipped behind me to stroke his humming baton up between my thighs."And I assure you, we were all ears," said the first, bringing his baton to rest just against the crown of my thick sex where my uniform pants had me shamelessly displayed along the hollow of my other hip. Held it there, rubbed slowly. "...Pup."

The two other security officers had come up on each side of me, supporting me beneath my arms so I could hold on where shaggy shoulder met thickly maned neck while their batons grazed down over my nipples, then back up again.

"So we heard every word," said the one whose baton had stroked up between my thighs and now rested, pressed snug under my tail, humming. "But then, people can say anything, especially what they think others want to hear." The two to either side lowered me slightly until my weight partly rested on the baton under me as he thumbed the intensity of the stunner up a notch with a grin. I made a small, involuntary sound and my sex throbbed under the humming stunner in front.

"Luckily, we are especially trained at extracting information from even the most reluctant sources." The security chief's baton, still on its lowest setting, grazed up and down the outline of my thick, throbbing cock. "So were you telling naughty lies... pup?" he asked in a low voice, growled into one ear.

"Or are you just a hungry little slut-puppy?" the other asked, purring, into the other as he twisted his baton beneath me, making my sensitized, stretch-sore bud tingle and twitch, "...Who needs a good hard fucking, on a good hard Vargyr knot?"

"Better tell the truth, pup," said the first, "and we might go easy on you this time." I watched in embarrassment as my hips arched to buck my arousal slowly against the throbbing, humming head of the baton. I bit my lip as he growled warm against my ear. "Well, pup?"

"No..." I said, blushing under the fine, short fur on my cheeks, "...I wouldn't lie." There would be no point in prevaricating in any case, the way my bottom was squirming to keep the thick knob of the second Vargyr's stun-truncheon snug against the seat of my pants where the rear seam clung slick and skin-tight to my quivering, twitching ring.

"So, what would you say is the truth, pup?" The psidelic medication that Doctor Courangara had prescribed made me aware of how my arousal and the dank scent of sex was enhanced by the subconscious, suggestive impulses that my unconscious mental gifts stirred in the crewmen, silently goading them, persuading them to press the advantage, prove their dominance and make me yield, to submit until I showed myself eagerly receptive to their insistent, instinctual domineering drive.

My shivering, arching, shamelessly aroused body and my sweet, boyish, just-fucked scent was stoking their basest urges, and my own hormone-fueled need was making my cock throb and seep, my mouth water and my fuck-sore bud quiver and twitch. I knew what he wanted me to say, what they all wanted to hear. I also knew that it was at least half true already. Sensed that giving in, saying it aloud, would make it more true still, and found I wanted to.

"That I'm a naughty Halivarri, sir," I replied as his baton sent little shocks through the bronzium buttons that secured the straining front panel of my shipman's pants. My hips canted forward so that my arousal slid, shamelessly displayed, under the clinging fabric slick with the precum that flowed from me in a steady stream. "A tease who tosses his tail at strong, sexy Vargyr..."

This wasn't enough for the command officer. He grazed up along the other row of buttons, treating me to another series of small, tingling shocks. "And what does that make you, pup?" he asked. Behind me, the baton humming at my sore, shivering bud slid up along my cleft to the base of my tail making me lift my behind and press it back, squirming as this made the rough, slick center seam in the rear stroke across where I was already sore and sensitized.

"Unh!" My cock throbbed and jerked, my body drew tense, but though racked with the need for release, I only seeped more dew to slicken my arousal. "I'm a cock-slut, sir, a dirty little fuck-pup who needs hard Vargyr knot and hot Vargyr cum, sir, in my naughty little mouth and up my hungry little ass."

I was trembling now, right on the edge of release from the musky, ruttish scent of Vargyr arousal all around me mingling with my own provocative aroma, and from the stunners teasing over my most sensitive areas. I don't think I could have refused to answer even if I had wished to. The team leader smiled wolfishly, liking what he had seen of my responsiveness.

"So. pup," he said with his muzzle so close that I felt it move against my ear, felt the warmth of his breath as well. He reached around me to slip a hand just under the base of my tail. I moaned as a finger stroked across that sensitive spot and my tail wrapped around his wrist, holding it there. "Do you like it? Like being our little fuck-pet, a naughty little slut-pup itching for thick Vargyr cock and hard Vargyr knot?"

That growling, taunting voice made me shiver from the blushing tips of my ears down to my toes. "Oh..." I gasped, "oh, yes." I couldn't deny the powerful urges which had lately awakened in me, and if I was still shy of saying so, I could tell that teasing me, making me admit it, was amusing the security detail to no end.

Just a flick of an eyebrow from the detail chief to the rest and the stun batons fell silent, their knobbed ends dull and lifeless and what is more the humming, teasing tingle against my fur abruptly vanished. "Well, I am glad you are learning your place, and to like it, pup," said the chief. "But we don't have time for any fun just now, so if you will just step along this way to the brig. You two," he said to his subordinates, "bring that one."

I had almost forgotten Arrvis, and felt bad on his account because I had certainly enjoyed his company. So it was with twinges of guilt as well as my body shuddering down from a peak of arousal that I followed, almost staggering, along to the detention facility and whatever shipboard justice awaited me.

My cell, when I reached it, was not without its amenities. I was, however, alone and the lingering neural effects of the stun-batons made me tingle in various places already over-sensitive from Arrvis' attentions a short while before. Also, in the small area of my confinement, I could not help but notice how the ruttish, musky male scent of Vargyr clung to my fur and clothes, offset by the aromas of my own recent exertions. All in all, I found myself distractingly half-aroused and restless.

In this frame of mind, I inspected my quarters, which I hoped would be temporary. There was a vidifax interface with the ship's library, but the screen of this read rather discouragingly "Limited access: educational materials only." Well, I knew that I would require course-work to actually learn to be a crewman, and after all I'd been on my way to enrollment at the Scout Service Academy when my life had been so drastically diverted.

The vidifax aside, there was only a narrow bunk that flipped over to become a narrow table, a sort of backless chair that could allow me to sit at the table but nowhere else, a small sanitary facility (providing a place to relieve myself but not a fresher in which to wash), a rather spare but adequate exercise unit and, intriguingly, what looked like an automated massage unit folded up into the opposite wall.

There was just room to take three steps in any direction, so my exploration did not take very long. When I had risen from the bunk, it had automatically turned itself over to become a desk, with the vidifax angled for viewing from the stool. Naturally, when it had been a bunk, it had been angled to be easily viewed while lying down, which I thought might come in handy.

For now, however, I settled on the stool which looked unpromisingly hard, but proved to have a comform impervic plass seat which shaped itself to my bottom when I sat. Shaped itself rather closely, in fact, pressing the rear seam of my shipman's pants against my cleft, and even across my bud, which was by now rather sore, while easing between my thighs to gently cup around the base of my male parts. When I squirmed, the comform seat squirmed back. I shivered, and tried to sit still.

I turned my attention to the vidifax, looking to see what materials I was permitted to view. On Halivarr, educational flecs were usually rather prim and dull, leaning toward civics and (where I grew up) agriculture. But what I saw here were a number of files labeled "IISSCC Cadet Curriculum". "IISSCC" stands for Imperial Interstellar Scout/Survey and Courier Corps, which for obvious reasons is usually just called the Scout Service. I was on my way to enroll as a Scout Cadet before I had ended up here, but it seemed that my education would progress anyway.

Then I noticed another set of files labeled "Admitted Evidence in Discipline Hearing 55672", which would be my own court-martial hearing, so naturally I was curious. The largest file was a video flec, with synchronized audio recorded at the same time. I could not recall any occasion that I had been aware of surveillance, to I told the vidifax to show the flec. And that is how I learned that my entire encounter with Arrvis in Turret Seventeen had been recorded.

After about a minute of footage, I heard myself make a small, involuntary sound as I squirmed on the saddle of the seat beneath me, answered by the cool voice of the ship systems. "Medical monitoring detects elevated vitals and increased muscular tension. Therapeutic massage is recommended to alleviate such symptoms. Massage unit to deploy with patient affirmative."

I squirmed at the notion, but at the same time I did not want to stop watching the flec. "Can the vidifax display be angled so that I'll be able to see it while I get my massage?" I figured it could not hurt to ask. The ship systems took a moment to parse my request but replied readily enough. "Affirmative. Vidifax display will configure for optimal viewing from massage unit. Unit to deploy upon patient affirmative"

"Um, affirmative." The saddle seat beneath me began to drop into the floor, so I got to my feet and stepped back while the massage bot unfolded itself, its manipulator arms something like a cybernetic octopus poised above the impervic plass slab of the comform massage bench. I hadn't had a massage session since my first one, and my sex throbbed at the prospect. This naturally made the rear seam of my shipman's pants draw snug against my bud, where I was still a little sore and tingling from the guards' stun sticks.

"For optimal effectiveness, it is recommended that the patient remove his uniform before taking position on the massage unit." The ship system voice was synthesized, but medical monitoring always spoke with Doctor Courangara's smooth, commanding tones. I complied, slipping out of my uniform and setting the garments aside. It felt good to have air circulating around my naked form, and I felt my fur fluff slightly in response. But I could also smell my own scent better, now, and this only increased my interest in that video flec.

I lay on the bench and tucked my aroused sex down so it could have some breathing room between my thighs. The bench - a comform unit that arranged itself under me to optimize my comfort - shifted beneath me so that my thighs were spread and my cock rested on a slick, yielding membrane between them. My hands naturally found the soft grip at either side - I had a feeling that I would be wanting something to hold onto. Best of all, the vidifax display was at eye level and just at the right angle for me to view easily. Just the still capture - Arrvis muzzle deep between my cheeks to lap at my bud while I glazed my lips with the glistening dew seeping from his insistent cock - was enough to make me squirm.

The comform bench stretched me a little further in all directions, which felt wonderful, and then the video flec started to play again from the beginning as the manipulator arms swung down and began working me over. I shivered and my hips bucked reflexively as massagers found my shoulders and the muscles leading up to the nape of my neck while others played down along my spine to the small of my back and others still began stroking up along my inner thighs. My tail tossed, found a manipulator poised for it, and wrapped tight as it was tugged gently taut, releasing tension at its root with a soft, silent 'pop'.

I let myself sink into the comform bench, abruptly aware of physical strain and fatigue as soon as the massage bot had begun to address this. Muscles knotted by unreleased arousal and cramped by prolonged and vigorous mating in awkward spaces melted under the expertise of the automated massagers. I let out a sigh that became a moan as the video recaptured my attention. I shivered with the memory of the sensations that Arrvis had drawn from me like a virtuoso draws music from a cello. I began to rock my hips to thrust my cock against the slick, yielding plass membrane beneath it and let my thighs spread wider as a manipulator arm brought its textured tip to bear on the cleft of my upturned ass.

Another slithered up to press against the root of my sex, below my shivering bud but above my balls, weighty on my sex in their furry sack. Pressed, thrummed in a way that made me buck then squirm back to try to bring it to bear on my ring. But it knew where it wanted to be and teasingly stayed put. I felt slick wetness around my seeping sex, and at about the same time that I understood that my dew was being deliberately milked from me, a rounded nub of clear, soft plass emerged to brush against my lips. Oh, yeah, right. I knew what this was. I took the nozzle in my mouth and suckled slowly.

The design of this massage unit was a little different from the one in the gymn, but the comform surface supporting my torso shifted beneath me to sculpt itself around each of my six nipples and began to apply matching suction to that of my own mouth on the nozzle. This in turn had begun to seep a sweet, sticky fluid onto my tongue - the precum being milked from me and collected below. Unlike my first experience of a massage bot, while certainly aroused I was not as urgently in need of release. So I bucked my hips slowly, squirmed just as slowly as the massager at my cleft brushed over my ring, settled in to watch the flec and let the massage unit take its time.

This slow pace allowed me to appreciate the rest of my massage, which was thorough and ongoing. It felt good to relax alone and I thought that if I was going to be confined in the brig in any case, there were worse ways to spend my time. So I watched as Arrvis did his able best to wear me out, thrust and arched to work my throbbing sex against the yielding surface beneath it, and let myself lift my rear as I felt the slick, textured tip of a massager press against me, testing my ring. I sucked my sap from the nozzle tip and licked it to feel the same done to my nipples. I stretched my arms and felt my tail gently tugged.

Only later would I learn that in addition to the security monitors that were standard for all weapons stations, cells in the brig were also under surveillance. But I was glad to learn it, and more than thankful to the security officer who palmed me a flec of the recording. I've been watching it just now to refresh my memory of my incarceration, as details had escaped me after the eventful times that would follow. At the time, however, I would have blushed to learn that all the security crew on brig detail were avidly monitoring my status in case I looked like making a break for it.

So it was with uninhibited responses that I arched into the slow thrust of the massager when it finally slid into me, and squirmed back with an involuntary whimper when I realized that a good ways down its bumped and rippled length it was swollen in the likeness of a Vargyr knot. I slid myself along the manipulator, clutching around it and pressing back to grind myself against that teasingly textured plass bulb as I watched Arrvis force his own into me then tug it out to thrust it in again. When at last I reached my climax, I drank my entire load of cum from the nozzle of the unit but my cock stayed hard and the various massage tips thrusting and stroking never even slowed down.

I can vaguely remember letting my heavy eyes drift shut and continuing to slowly stoke and sate myself on the massage bot's untiring arms, listening to the flec now instead and shivering with the phantom sensation of Arrvis' breath at my ear as he insinuated slyly, words teasing me even as his thick, thrusting sex did, asking me what it was I really wanted, then telling me to prove it. Praising me when I did, encouraging me to want more. At some point, memory became dream populated by many of those who had haunted my private thoughts of late. My Captain, of course. Arrvis and his shyer, gentler friend Orrng, the young Vargyr, Yrrvng, who had become drunk on the scent of me. And yes, the powerful, intimidating but reassuring and maddeningly arousing Rakashah doctor. With such dreams and the continuing caresses of the massage unit, I slept.

By the time display on the vidifax, it was a good eight hours later that I awoke. My cock was throbbing and pulsing, no longer having any seed to pour into the massage-bot's resevoir. My ring felt more bruised than sated, and I was relieved that the massager had withdrawn from there, although my legs were still asplay and my tail held aloft. My throat felt raw and my mouth dry in spite of the wetness of drool - I supposed it was drool - on my chin. I groaned. Ship systems replied. "Medical monitoring advises the patient to take nutriment. A meal prepared from optimal restoratives will be served with a therapeutic beverage upon patient affirmative."

"Oh, for all the. Affirmative, affirmative!" I disentangled myself clumsily from the comform bench and retrieved my discarded uniform, finding it no less redolent of sex than I was and silently cursing the absence of a fresher. Or maybe not. I found that part of me really liked how I smelled, so much so that my thoroughly spent cock was half-hard again already as I attempted to stuff myself back into my trousers. By the time I was dressed, the massage unit had folded itself away, the saddle-seat had emerged from its den in the floor, and a bowl of stew which breathed mouthwatering aromas into the room waited on the table beside a beaker of an effervescent liquid in an unpromising shade of luminous yellow-green.

This proved to be light and refreshingly tart, and set off the stew perfectly. Medical monitoring had yet to steer me wrong, and I was pleasantly surprised - not for the first time - by the excellence of the star cruiser's commissary. Better still, food improved my mood to no end, and to my great relief. I dislike waking up grumpy. It can sour my whole day. Not that I thought my day in the brig would have much to offer other than my assigned exercises and Cadet studies, but both would benefit from being approached in a positive frame of mind.

Before I could turn my attention to either, however, the door of my cell emitted a soft but clear two-tone chime before sliding open, making me glad that I had not waited to dress. The air from the passage beyond was cool and fresh, indicating that the air flowing from my cell was warm and dank with suggestive scents. I might have been more embarrassed by this, but the guard waiting outside showed no obvious reaction so I greeted him levelly enough. "Yes?"

"Crewman Dasker?" The expressionless security officer asked as a formality. There was no one else on board that I possibly could be. "You are to report to Medical for evaluation to certify that you are able to face a disciplinary hearing. Doctor Courangara is expecting you. You will go directly there and stay out of trouble... pup." He added this last with a suggestively knowing grin, and stood aside to gesture me from my cell. He kept his hands to himself, but I could feel his eyes on my bottom.

When the doctor called me to the medical bay rather than to his quarters, I was both disappointed and a little anxious. Was there some complication in my ongoing adjustment? I worried that my condition or whatever it was might mean isolation from the rest of the crew. A night alone in the brig had been bad enough. As embarrassed as I was by the attentions of my crewmates, I had to admit that part of me was already eager for them to continue. As the reception bot logged my arrival and sent me in to Doctor Courangara's consultation room, I found I was sweating. I took a steadying breath and entered.

"Dasker," greeted the doctor with an acknowledging nod. "Come in. This should not take long." Doctor Courangara's manner was cooly clinical as he regarded me over his spectacles, aloof behind his formidable Rakasha reserve. This was the Chief Medical Officer of the Starcruiser Gvadakoung, not my wise and reassuring mentor, and my nerves were by no means soothed. My wrist unit chirped. I raised it to my lips to take the five small soother tablets it dispensed and made my way to the spot indicated, a slightly raised platform with diagnostic equipment suspened from the ceiling above.

To either side were rails of transparent impervic with comform grips at a convenient height. This was fortunate, as I found mysel grabbing them hastily as the platform moved beneath me, spreading my stance a good third of a meter. I looked down to see a comform saddle-seat rising on a silent piston from the opening below to slide up between my thighs to press warmly against me, shaping itself to my bottom and the root of my sex. I shifted instinctively on the comform seat and felt it squirm in response. My tailhole was still tender and I made a small sound as the rear seam of my shipman's pants slid slickly along my cleft. The seam only drew tighter as my sex swelled full and firm.

"I apologize for any discomfort, Dasker," the doctor said, regarding me over his flec-tablet as he noted some preliminary readouts. "If it is any reassurance, this examination is partly to catalog any physical distress you may be experiencing so that we may alleviate it. Set your chin here on this pad, good." As the diagnostic assembly lowered in front of me, Dr. Courangara guided me into position, leaned slightly forward so that I had to reach back a bit to keep hold of the handrails and the root of my sex pressed more firmly into the pliant firmness of the comform seat.

"Very good. Now, let me get the vidifax goggles in place." The unit covered my eyes and the bridge of my nose, and the viewscreen showed a pleasant landscape on some exotic, low-gravity world with improbably tall purple mountains rising like domed columns to pierce the soft pink clouds beyond a forest of tall, ribbon-like tree-ferns in a hundred subtle hues.

"Simply relax and enjoy the scenery, Dasker," the doctor said in his most soothing tones. "I will be playing a series of subliminal images and recording your subconscious reactions to each," he explained in his low, compelling voice. I admired the view as he continued. "Later, this data will help us select subliminals to play during your studies and recreational viewing to maximise a smooth transition as we establish your new routine."

I didn't notice anything particularly unusual in the landscape although the tree-ferns waved in an almost hypnotic manner. Nonetheless, I felt my pulse quicken and my breath grow shallow as I found myself blushing and almost panting through parted lips. Instinctively, I squirmed back against the saddle-seat beneath me as my half-hard sex swelled thick and firm.

The landscape changed from day to dusk and dusk to night and night to dawn over perhaps five minutes while I watched, ever more rapt and increasingly aroused. In my ears, I heard only the soft susurration of white noise of the kind used to mask intrusive sounds of ship systems, Vargyr being rather sensitive to acoustic irritants. I thought it sounded rather pleasant, like wind moving through trees, but could not relate it any more than I could the visual input with the arousal I was experiencing.

"Very good, Dasker." The doctor sounded pleased. "You are much more receptive than I had hoped. Further, you respond well to a broad variety of stimuli giving us considerable scope for your conditioning." He spoke on as he disengaged the vidifax unit and swung it out of the way.

"More, you are receptive to modes of input that your Vargyr crewmates are not, so that we can run them not just behind your educational coursework, but also on ship displays, the menu screen of the canteen, or along the passage-way lighting strips." The doctor smiled amiably. "We can likewise encode auditory suggestions that you will receive with every message from ship systems, or ship-wide duty announcements and even in white noise sound masking."

"In short, we can - and will - arrange for you receive continuous, multi-channel programming on a sub-perceptual level, which should easily overcome any lingering reluctance on your part to fully accept and express those needs fully appropriate to your age and species."

"Programming?" I asked, sounding uncertain. I thought I understood the doctor fairly well, but he never seemed to mind explaining things more simply. I shifted a bit on the comform seat of the diagnostic unit, and squirmed reflexively as it shifted and shivered beneath me.

"Yes, Dasker," said the doctor. "The mind can be very receptive to information that it absorbs without you being aware of it, and that is how the programming will work. We can embed an auditory message in the white noise maskers that play throughout the ship, for example, which you won't be aware of and couldn't hear even if you knew it were there and listened especially for it. But nonetheless, your mind will hear it and respond accordingly. And we shall be doing the same with visual information as well."

"What sort of message?" I asked. I was mostly just curious, but must have registered a degree of increasing anxiety to the diagnostic unit because my wrist unit chirped for me to take the medication that Doctor Courangara had prescribed for that purpose. Without a thought, I brought the unit to my mouth and took the four tiny tablets on my tongue.

"Oh, we will have to see what you respond best to," said the doctor. "But I think we can make a start with what we already know that you like to hear. I believe you had a conversation with the security chief after your escapade in the gunnery turret, for instance?" I blushed and bit my lip. The doctor smiled. "So, we could embed a message of you being asked such questions - probably in many different voices - crewmen, the Captain, even my own for the deepest penetration - and also your replies in which you affirm what you really want most."

"But," I began, squirming uncertainly on my seat, gasping as it squirmed back which made me press and rock myself against it instinctually. My wrist unit beeped, and I took three additional soothers. My anxiety subsided, though I was still shifting myself unconsciously against the comform saddle that stroked at my bud and the root of my aroused sex through the slick, clinging fabric of my pants. "But won't that just..." I trailed off uncertainly.

"Won't it what, Dasker? And very good, yes, take the medication as it is dispensed. We will want to adjust the prescription slightly, I think, to take advantage of this new program, don't you? With the right drugs, we could increase your responsiveness to subliminal instruction by a factor of fifty." The Rakashah doctor smiled at me in a manner meant to be encouraging but which made my tail twitch behind me. "But you were expressing a concern in that regard, I believe? Continue." The doctor's deep voice was firm and authoritative.

"Won't that just make me more, um, worked up and, you know..." My hips rocked as I slid my bottom slowly along the saddle, forward and back. The motion was reflexive, and even when I noticed it I found that I didn't care to stop whether Doctor Courangara saw me or not. After all, he was a doctor. And in any case, at another time it might as easily been his lap that I was squirming around on.

"More libidinous and provocative toward the crew?" the doctor finished for me. I nodded. "Well strictly speaking, no. You must understand, Dasker, that such impulses arise from your own desires and needs, wholly appropriate to a healthy adolescent Halivarri male. But since you are still reluctant to accept those fully, you will constantly receive reminders and encouragement. Even in your sleep, your mind will hear you being asked what you really want, and hear your own quite understandable admissions." He smiled again. "You were telling the truth to the security chief, were you not?"

I nodded and blushed. "Then you see, it really isn't anything you don't already know that you want, is it... pup?" My eyes widened as he called me that, and the tip of my tongue darted nervously over my lower lip, but my cock swelled and throbbed, and I squirmed again on the seat. The doctor grinned at my response, and even winked, but sobered with concern as the strain at the front of my pants drew the back seam tight against my bruised, sore bud.

"But to allow you to do that..." said Doctor Courangara as he stroked an icon on his flec tablet, "We had best do what we can to alleviate your physical discomforts as well." He looked up from the hand-held display and regarded me over his glasses. "You have been rather active these past few days, Dasker, so it is no great surprise that you are perhaps a bit the worse for the wear, and the Captain has been quite clear that he does not wish your very understandable popularity with the crew to interfere with his own prerogative as your mate."

I blushed at that and bit my lip. As strongly as my body's urges had drawn me to the Vargyr of the starship crew, it was with the Captain that I had experienced a particular bond, and his approval and affection were vitally important to me. I still worried, in many respects, that I would disappoint him by sharing my physical appetites with the crew. Doctor Courangara sensed this, of course, and did his best to reassure me.

"Trust me, Dasker, or better yet trust him. I assure you that the Captain wishes only for you to experience your true Halivarri nature as fully and deeply as shipboard life allows. But," he qualified with emphasis, "that will not be possible if you are injured in pursuit of your body's satisfaction. I have examined you to see where medical attention is needed. Let me assure you that we can and will ameliorate the minor injuries and discomfort you've sustained."

"Now your gymn regimen will tone your muscles and keep you flexible, which should keep you in good shape for all your shipboard activities, so you must not neglect your exercise. You won't put on much bulk, in any case. Halivarri remain sleek and supple, even with peak development, and you are probably about as tall as you are likely to get. However, my records show that you are still growing in some respects." I gave him a puzzled look and he smiled as he indicated the prominent arousal showing under the front panel of my shipman's pants.

"Your male parts, Dasker. Had you not noticed?" I shook my head. "Well, I assure you that your Vargyr crewmates most certainly will. " He smiled. "You are already a good three centimeters longer in erect state, and proportionally thicker as well. We shall have to monitor that. I had not accounted for it in my initial assessment, but as long as you are still growing down there, we must anticipate that your rut will last longer as well - by ten to fifteen years at least, to judge by your growth so far. So the sooner you become acclimated, the better."

He looked back to the flec reader in his hand, called up some information, scanned it briefly. "However, there is some minor tissue trauma - internal chafing of the urethra, some swelling of your foreskin, and indications that your system is being irritated by dry climaxes. These are all easily addressed. I am prescribing a dietary supplement which will be administered in every meal, beverage and snack that you eat or drink from now on." He caught me dubious expression, and hastened to reassure me. "Don't worry - it is flavorless and you won't notice it at all."

"But it will substantially increase the volume of your body's natural lubricating fluids, and will also assure that you produce enough semen to keep up with your needs. The more you expend, the more you will produce. This will have some side effects. You will have new nutritional needs, but I am confident you will be able to address those without special instructions." He smiled but did not elaborate. "Further, the supplement will increase your pheromone levels as well, but I don't expect you will object to the additional attention, will you... pup?" I blushed and my bottom squirmed on the saddle seat, but the doctor just regarded me with his usual kindly smile. "Just so."

For not the first time, my squirming made me wince. As sensitive as I was back there, I was also sore, and the rear seam of my shipman's pants was becoming diabolically uncomfortable. Doctor Courangara had an unnerving degree of empathy and picked up on this at once. His teasing manner vanished and he was all cool, clinical concern.

"You have also sustained considerable bruising in the perianal region," he resumed, thankfully looking at his flec tablet rather than at me. "This presents a more serious difficulty, as it risks further injury if you pursue further activity of that kind before your body has recovered. As well, the matter is complicated by the fit of your uniform, due to the snugness of the design over that region. I had to some extent anticipated this, however, and think that we can alleviate your discomfort with some minor alterations to your uniform."

My ears slumped with the sudden disappointment I felt. True, my pants weren't comfortable but when I wasn't sore I kind of found the sensation pleasureably. Also, I knew that people looked at my bottom (my uniform pants were designed to show it off) and I found I didn't like to think that I'd have to wear something looser fitting. This surprised me - I thought I had just been embarrassed to know that my Vargyr crewmates were eyeing me there, but now I realized how much I liked that they did.

The doctor once again addressed my confusion and disappointment. "No, I don't mean that the design will fit less snugly or be any less flattering to your considerable charms, Dasker. You will still be able to wag your pretty little bottom at the crew just as we all know you like to." I blushed, but the doctor smiled. "But I have had Ship Supply make up these for you instead." From a dispensary slot, the doctor took a piece of thin white fabric with bronzium fittings that I soon identified as the removable panel of shipman's uniform pants, the part that covers the privates and rear and which seems to be designed more for display than concealment.

He brought this over and arranged it on a small counter or shelf that deployed from the diagnostic unit at a convenient height for me to see it. Laid out, the fabric showed a number of shiny nodules of some kind of clear plass arrayed along the center seam, increasing in size to a fat little button, about the size of the tip of my little finger, surrounded by a ring of smaller nodes. "Go ahead, Dasker," said the doctor, "Touch it."

The fabric was just the same stuff as my uniform was made of - slightly slick, stretchy, impervious to dirt or stains. But when my finger trailed over the nodes, these proved to be very slick, almost oily although they left no noticeable residue on my fingertip when I pulled it away. On second touch, they felt soft and yielding, though they seemed to resist pressure with a disconcerting motion as if trying to wriggle out from under my finger. Since they were fixed in place, of course they did not go anywhere, and the movement ceased if I merely rested my fingertip on them. I looked at Doctor Courangara curiously.

"Your new uniform, Dasker," he explained. "The nodules are lubricated with a therapeutic ointment which alleviates pain and treats minor bruising by dermal contact. Further, the ointment promotes skin elasticity and muscle tone. This will assure that when your uniform pants rub you in a spot that your activities have made swollen or painful that discomfort will be relieved rather than irritated, and that any incidental injury will be treated simply by wearing your clothes. There are, however, some unavoidable side-effects relating to tissue sensitivity, however."

I must have looked disappointed again, and I was. As much as I sometimes found my sesitivity down there to be embarrassing or distracting, and as uncomfortable as I certainly was when I was sore and my pants rubbed me the wrong way, I found I didn't want to lose sensation from my bud in exchange for relief from discomfort.

"Ah. My mistake, Dasker. I did not mean to be misleading." Doctor Courangara looked contrite, but also a little amused. At least I thought he was amused - I was still not sure of my ability to read his expression. "I did not mean to suggest that the ointment will make you less sensitive. To the contrary, I expect that the medication to increase your sensitivity, especially where it is most concentrated."

I blinked at this, looked back down at the fabric panel with its glistening little dots. My finger trailed down the line to the node at the end, conspicuously larger than the rest, stroked over it. It squirmed and wriggled under my fingertip in a way that made me blush. "This...?" I trailed off, unsure how to phrase my question plainly. As always, the doctor continued my thought for me where I faltered, answering the question I'd not managed to ask.

"That will sit right where you think it will, Dasker." Doctor Courangara's voice was calm and patient, but there was still that hint of amusement around his eyes. "Right where you need it most, yes?" Okay, now I knew he was amused. "I did say that the Captain is insistent that his prerogative as your mate is not interfered with, and he does not wish that to cause you any discomfort, or require you to inhibit yourself unnecessarily." As I watched him, my finger was still absently stroking that slick, yielding bead.

"As you have noticed, the nodules are pressure sensitive. Nanomotors embedded in the impervic gel respond by manipulating the shape of each nodule so that the ointment is more liberally applied and distributed through capillary action by stimulating your circulation. Under ordinary circumstances, application is passive and the nodules are inert. But should the seam be drawn more forcefully against you, they will activate in the manner you have ascertained."

Doctor Courangara let that sink in for a moment or two, and then began to wrap up the consultation. "Naturally, you have a say in your medical treatment, Dasker, and none of this can be done without your informed consent. Do you have any questions about the proposed changes, or any objection?" I looked up and saw his warm, amber eyes regarding me with reassuring sympathy, and knew that whatever indecision I might feel about anything, I could trust him fully.

"No, doctor," I replied. "I'm sure that you know what will be best for me." He smiled at my confidence in his judgement, and I smiled in return. While sometimes he could be intimidating - Rakashah are over two meters tall, and powerfully built - I felt he was a friend who could be trusted. "Yes, of course I'll follow your recommendations."

"Very good, Dasker. Your wrist unit here..." I put my arm where the prescription soothers could be changed out for the new medication while the doctor continued. "I have keyed in orders for the dietary supplement, and will phase in subliminals as soon as I have your program parameters calibrated and have assembled appropriate content. Now, take off that panel," he said in that cooly commanding tone, smiling a bit as I complied without hesitation.

After all, he was a doctor, so it didn't matter much if he saw me mostly aroused. The uniform was useless for concealing that in any case. I did glance up to see if he was looking. And he was, with a pleased look, then caught my eyes when I absently reached to adjust myself, and I blushed. "Good boy, Dasker. Now, put this one on instead. We will need to make sure that it fits properly."

I took the new panel and fixed it in place, each bronzium button clicking onto the corresponding tab on my pants, and felt the little nodules slide against my cleft as the rear seam drew snug. "Not too loose here..." Doctor Courangara reached down and cupped his large, heavy hand around the front panel, one fingertip just grazing up along the outline of my sex. I bit my lip, but my thighs parted as my hips arched forward reflexively. Leaving his paw there and teasing me with another slow, playful stroke of his fingertip, he reached around with the other, slid under my tail. "I hope you don't mind

if I see things are in order, Dasker?" I shook my head but didn't say anything as his hand found its way down the seam, pressing just firmly enough for the nanomotors to engage so that the nodules vibrated and teased against me as his finger found them one by one. My thighs parted further as I felt my seat lift and press back.

"Very good," said the doctor again as his finger slid lower. "We want to make sure that everything fits right... where... it... should." He drew out the words as his finger stroked inexorably to where I could feel the thick, round bead right against my shivering bud - which no longer was at all sore. Then I felt it press in, shivering as if alive, the smaller nodules around it waking to wriggle all around my ring. "Mm. Yes, I think that fits just where you need it most."

Before I could really press back to stroke myself against it, the hand withdrew as did the other in front. My tension must have registered with medical monitoring, because my wrist unit chirped. I took the soothers - they had a different taste, one I found familiar but couldn't place. "Very good, Dasker." The doctor smiled down at me, seeing my tongue lapping at my wrist unit.

"We will see how you do with your new treatment..." He guided me toward the door, one hand on my shoulder. "And of course I will want to see you for regular evaluation, so that we can continue to address your ...special needs." It did occur to me just then that nothing Doctor Courangara had prescribed had ever been intended to diminish my sexual urges, but I was no longer sure that I wanted him to. "And if you ever get lonely, you know you can see me privately."

He smiled, paused at the door as it whispered open for me. "Believe me when I tell you I understand your real situation very well, and will help you understand it too, however much you need and whenever you like... pup." His hand slipped down from my shoulder to my bottom and gave a pat just sharp enough to set all the nodules off at once. I gasped, he smiled, scooted me out with a firm paw on my bottom, and the door closed behind me

"This Disciplinary Hearing, number 55672, is called to order. Crewman and Captain's Mate Halliday Dasker defendant, and First Officer Rnnoldt presiding, Captain Fanng having recused himself for reason of personal bias but retaining right of review." The red-furred first officer tapped his gavel. "Crewman Dasker, you face charges of delinquency in compliance with a medically ordered gymnasium regimen, willfully diverting a crewman from execution of his assigned duties, exerting undue influence and suasion including psionic coercion upon crewmen in pursuit of personal satisfaction, and unauthorized access and operation of ship weaponry. This hearing will take evidence and issue judgment on each of these charges. Do you understand the charges against you?"

"I do, sir." The officers' mess had been rearranged for my court-martial, tables removed except for one at the head of the room where Officer Rnnoldt sat, the Captain at his right wearing an unreadable expression. Chairs arranged behind me seated those officers and crewmen who were here to give evidence in my case. I had seen the security commander who had led the detachment which had arrested me, Crewman Arrvis looking distinctly uncomfortable and also Doctor Courangara who greeted me with a small smile and a nod as I took my place.

The dock, where I was standing, was a slightly raised platform in the center of the room with a sleek, padded handrail which I gripped nervously. The platform was set directly in front of Officer Rnnoldt's station and lighted from below while the rest of the room was dim except for a light that shone down on my judge and the table before him. Behind him was a vidifax screen on the wall, currently dark. I shifted uneasily and my wrist unit beeped. Reflexively, I lifted it to my mouth and caught the soother tablets on my tongue.

"This hearing will take testimony from ship personnel in pursuit of this inquiry, and will review security recordings logged by ship's systems. You will have the opportunity to speak in your own defense. Do you understand the terms of this hearing?"

I could feel myself blush at the mention of security recordings, as I had already viewed the footage captured in the turret during my encounter with Arrvis, even though I doubted this would actually be displayed. Nonetheless, I could feel my sex swell a bit in my snug shipman's trousers at the thought - fortunately not enough to draw the seam that ran along my cleft tight enough to start the little lubricated nodes humming and rubbing against me.

Realizing that the hearing was waiting on my reply, I gave it. "I do, sir."

Rrnoldt gave me a solemn nod and tapped his gavel twice. "Let us begin."

I sought my Captain's eye, but he returned only a steady, noncommittal regard. This was not my bonded mate, but what he had to be in these circumstances, Captain of the starcruiser Gvadakoung. The aureole of light that pooled around the First Officer cast his stern face in half-light, showing the curving line of the scar that cleft his eyebrow before jumping the orbit of his eye to cut a swath through the grizzled fur of his cheek.

Looking for assurance there and finding it held in reserve made me suddenly anxious. More than my body's impulses which had gotten me into this situation, I was driven by a need for my Captain's affection and approval. The uncertainty of the moment was almost overwhelming. I heard my wrist-unit chime, lifted it to my lips, and lapped up a larger a dose of soothers than I had yet taken.

As the tablets dissolved into a thick fluid on my tongue, I finally recognized the taste I had found familiar before but had been unable to place. Maybe it was the texture and the way it rolled over my tongue, but I suddenly realized that the melting soothers tasted like thick Vargyr cum. This was my newest prescription, the one that would leave me fully open to the influence of the subliminal messages the doctor was preparing for me, messages I would now inevitably associate with the distinctive flavor of Vargyr semen flooding my mouth.

It was with this thought and the shiver it sent through me that I listened, only half attentive, as the First Officer read through a summary of Arrvis' own account of events as he had attested at his own hearing, and I found myself wondering whether the Captain had be harsh or lenient on my account until I caught myself comparing the flavor still lingering in my mouth with the taste of Arrvis' seed and lost the drift of what First Officer Rrnoldt was saying.

"Do you concur with the substance of Crewman Arrvis' account of your conversation, Mate Dasker?"

"Hunh? Oh. Yes, I am sure that Arrvis would not tell anything but what happened." I hoped that it was not immediately apparent that I had lost track of the proceedings, but apparently was, as First Officer Rrnoldt pressed me on particular details.

"If we may clarify," he continued remorselessly, "When Crewman Arrvis encountered you in the C Deck aft passage, you were apparently idle and engaged in provocative behavior, is that correct?"

"Um, yes, I suppose." I found myself recalling that encounter in explicit detail, and was aware that I was starting to perspire. Worse, I could feel my sex stiffening, sliding visibly under the clinging fabric of the front panel in my pants as it swelled and throbbed.

"Can you be more specific as to the nature of the alleged provocative behavior?" The question was delivered without particular emphasis.

"Yes, sir." I blushed. "I was in an aroused state following a conference with Doctor Courangara in his quarters..." Murmurs from the officers in attendance and one rude whistle.

"Order." Rnnoldt tapped his gavel sharply, and the room quieted. "To continue, you were in the passageway outside Doctor Courangara's quarters, in an aroused state. Is this all?" He seemed not to find it especially provocative.

"No, sir. I was finding my uniform pants uncomfortable and was attempting to adjust myself. My thoughts wandered but my hand didn't. Crewman Arrvis caught me that way."

"Caught you? Do you allege that Crewman Arrvis staged an ambuscade awaiting a chance to apprehend you?"

"No, sir. I amend my statement. Crewman Arrvis happened upon me so engaged..."

Rrnoldt interrupted me. "To clarify, engaged in precisely what?"

"I was daydreaming, sir, while I was, um, playing with myself through the front panel of my pants."

"To be clear on this point, you were standing in a public access-way and openly masturbating through the front panel of your regulation trousers?"

"Yes, sir."

"And it would have been apparent to anyone that you were doing so?"

"Yes, sir." I bit my lip.

"And it was while you were so engaged that Crewman Arrvis happened by?"

"Yes, sir."

"And did he then impose himself upon you against your protest?

I blinked at that. "No, sir."

"How would you characterize his response?"

"He saw that I was in, um, distress, and offered his assistance."

"And this offer was accepted?"

"Yes, sir."

"And were you displeased when that assistance was directed toward the root of your distress in a familiar and even intimate manner?"

"No, sir.

"Crewman Arrvis alleges that he expressed his reasoning for feeling such attention would be welcome. Is this so?"

"Yes, sir." I blushed, recalling his hot, low voice breathing into my ear.

"Did you disabuse him of such notions?"

"No, sir."

"You agreed with him, then?" Rrnoldt was still delivering each question dispassionately, showing only a desire to elicit the facts of the case.

"Yes, sir."

"And how would you state his position, in your own words?"

"He suggested that I act provocatively to encourage familiar or even intimate attention from crewmates."

"And you admitted this was so?"

I blushed, but if the First Officer saw, he gave no indication. My arousal was hot against the hollow of my hip. I reached absently to adjust it as I replied. "Yes, sir."

"Do you recall the terms in which he expressed himself?"

"Yes, sir." I bit my lip, my hand forgetting its task.

"Will you Share these with the hearing committee?"

"Sir?" I made another half-conscious attempt to arrange my throbbing, seeping sex surreptitiously.

"Tell us what it was he said as well as you recall, if you please."

"Yes, sir. He said he thought that I liked having my trousers snug, sir. In front and, you know, in back."

"Those were his words, Mate Dasker? 'you know, in back'?" Rrnoldt sounded faintly

chiding.

"No sir. He said he thought I liked to have my pants tight, sir, so that I would be noticed by the crew. Like when I met his cabin-mate, Shipman Orrng, and when I met the crew on E-deck. That he had heard I had put on quite a show."

"And that is all?"

"No, sir..." I was blushing, but my hand stroked absently, instinctually, so that as I answered, I was all the while teasing, toying with my cock.

"Then continue."

"Yes, sir. He said that he believed that I liked turning all the Vargy on with my naughty ways, sir. With my Halivarri tail waving above my hungry little ass, sir."

"So to clarify, not 'you know, back there', but actually your 'hungry little ass'?"

"Yes, sir."

"And you concurred with this remarkable bit of eloquence?"

I bit my lip, squirming as I blushed to my toes. "Yes, sir."

"And that was all Crewman Arrvis had to say about the subject?"

"No, sir."

"He elaborated this theory further, then?"

"Yes, sir."

"In what terms, as well as you recall?"

I had not forgotten a single word of that conversation, indeed, could almost still feel the heat of his body, the commanding scent of his desire. "He asked if I was getting all boned up in my pants, sir, just from being on a ship full of hard Vargyr cock." I bit my lip, but the words could not be unsaid.

"I see. He actually inquired as to your motives?"

"Yes, sir."

"And you did not disagree or correct him?"

"No, sir."

"And this concluded the discussion?"

"No, sir."

"Then continue."

"Yes, sir." I took a deep breath, the soothers keeping my heart rate steady. "He suggested that was why I stood around in accessways, sir, stroking myself, hoping a crewman would come along."

"As you are now?"

I blinked, blushed, looked down and realized I had in fact been playing my hand over the blatant outline of my cock, I knew not how long. I jerked my hand away and gripped the rail. "I suppose so, sir. Sorry."

"Try to keep your, ah, 'naughty ways' under control, Mate Dasker, or I shall be forced to conclude that you are attempting to prejudice this court."

"Yes, sir."

"To return to our line of inquiry, Crewman Arrvis suggested that rather than him setting an ambuscade for you, as we have established did not in fact occur, that you were in a sense setting an ambuscade for him or indeed any 'hard Vargyr cock' that happened along?" He gave the quoted words a clear, precise emphasis, but without so much as a raised eyebrow. Snickers from the edges of the room. He tapped his gavel peremtorily.

"Yes, sir."

"And you offered no agreement to this infamous allegation?"

"No, sir."

"I see. And this concluded the discussion?"

"No, sir."

"What was said next?"

"He asked whether I knew why I did that."

"And your answer?"

"That it is on account of my biological imperative, sir, with which the Maker endowed the Halivarri people at our creation."

"The talk turned abruptly to theology? To the teachings of the Hand of the Maker."

"No, sir. I only mention that to clarify what I meant by my biological imperative, sir."

"I will decide what matters require clarification, Mate Dasker. The provenance of the Made Races is not within the bounds of our judicial scrutiny. Please refrain from such embellishments. Simply answer the questions asked."

"Yes, sir."

"What was Crewman Arrvis' response to this?"

"He thought I had been speaking to Doctor Courangara."

"Those were his words?"

"No, sir. He inferred that I had been talking to the doctor, sir, and asked if I was craving something bigger than a Vargyr, that I'd gone wagging my tail at a Rakasha." I did not dare to look back over my shoulder where I knew Doctor Courangara was hearing all of this. More snickers, and another sharp rap of the gavel.

"Order. And have you been?"

"Sir?"

"Have you been 'craving something bigger than a Vargyr', Mate Dasker, and 'wagging your tail' at our Chief Medical officer?"

"Um. Yes, sir." I blurted. "He lets me sit in his lap, so I can feel how big he is. Under my ...um." I had no idea why I had come out with this, and trailed off in confusion.

"Under your, what was the phrase? Your 'hungry little ass'?"

"Yes, sir." No snickers, but the amusement of the audience was palpable.

"But Doctor Courangara played no personal role in your escapade with Crewman Arrvis?"

"No, sir."

"I see. Then it is not strictly relevant to our inquiry. But we will leave it as a note in the record, in the interest of clarity."

It went on from there, but I was answering automatically, in a sort of daze with my cock seeping slickness under the front panel of my pants. As it swelled and throbbed the rear seam nano-massagers would activate for a brief moment to tease me behind as I related every word Arrvis had spoken to me in our encounter, and affirmed my admission of each point he raised.

"And did you feel that Crewman Arrvis was trying to win you to his opinion, or merely stating the facts as he understood them?"

"Stating facts, sir."

"And you did not disagree with his understanding of the facts?"

"No, sir."

"Nor object to the terms in which he expressed them?"

"No, sir. I made no objection."

"So you admit to having been in full agreement with Crewman Arrvis, and even with the terms in which he expressed his understanding?"

"Yes, sir."

"And further, I believe that when the security detail so assigned apprehended you, they conducted a less formal investigation on this subject as well?"

"Yes, sir."

"And you did not deny, nor object to, the terms in which they sought to express your motives and character?"

"No, sir."

"And that both with Crewman and later the security team, you went so far as to describe your own motives and character in the same terms?"

"Yes, sir."

"And were you, so far as you are aware, speaking honestly at the time?"

"Yes, sir."

"Thank you for stating it so plainly, Mate Dasker. Are there any allegations in that discussion that you would like to refute?"

"No, sir."

"Records Officer Warrris, you have noted each of these."

"I have, sir. Shall I read them back?"

"Yes, let us hear them. Since Mate Dasker made no objection at the time and conceded their basis in fact, there can be no objection as our task is to establish such facts."

"Yes, sir." said the Records Officer. "The defendant, Mate Halliday Dasker, did aver or admit on record in this court that he likes having his pants snug, and wants them to be noticed by the crew. That he likes turning all of the Vargyr on with his naughty ways, with his Halivarri tail waving above his hungry little ass."

I blushed, but my cock was full end throbbing, straining my trousers in front so much that the rear seam was pulled tight along my cleft. Lit from below, I knew that my arousal must be blatantly obvious. And then the nodule array along the rear seam of my pants silently buzzed to life, sending soft, slick teasing sensation down my cleft, intensifying as it closed around my ring where that fat, round bead thrummed and stroked at my sensitive bud.

"Furthermore, that he gets all boned up in his pants just from being on a ship full of Vargyr cock, and consequently hangs around in access-ways, stroking himself, hoping a crewman will come along." Warrris had less control than First Officer Rrnoldt. As his recitation went on, his voice took on an insinuating tone, a playful hint of growl.

My eyes sought those of my Captain again, but found no reassurance there. His gaze was piercingly intent on me, his expression stony. My breath caught, I bit my lip and my wrist unit chimed softly. I took the soothers as they were dispensed, holding them on my tongue as they dissolved into something with the flavor and consistency of Vargyr cum as the Records Officer continued. I almost thought I heard Doctor Courangara's basso purr in my ear, "That's a good pup." I did not turn around to look.

Warrris was continuing. "That this alone is what he is made for and, while he has other talents, those are merely things he wants, while hard Vargyr cock is what he needs." He went on, eyes raking me to watch my involuntary responses. "That he likes to see what he does to his crewmates by the way he teases, the way he smells, the way he stares with his big, dark eyes to be seen looking, and practically licking his lips."

My hands gripped the rail as my head nearly reeled. There were no salacious comments or snickers from the gallery now, only intent silence. The officer's mess was not a small room, but in my nervousness I continued to perspire and my tail to flick and toss, sending my natural scent out in invisible coils. More, I could feel that my mind was seeping my arousal, sending it out on a telempathic impulse to sound suggestively in the minds of all those watching save the one who could isolate himself in an invulnerable aura of mental isolation.

"That, rather than in his pretty little mouth, he likes it best up his tight little ass." I could almost feel the eyes of those behind me - all of them Vargyr except for Doctor Courangara - range down to my restless tail and lower to my squirming, spot-lit backside. The rear seam, drawn snug against me by the strain of my arousal in front, practically crawled along my vale, the sensation trailing downward, slowly, steadily to where it teased around my ring, throbbed and plucked across it. My hands remained on the rail, but my hips bucked reflexively and I knew that Warrris at least was watching my thick cock slide slickly under the panel of my pants.

"That in fact he Just can't wait to get his sweet little tailhole filled, and that is what he wants." Warrris carressed each word with a taunting growl, his Vargyr dominance instinct stoked by my own Halivarri traits into a need to see me submit. "That to show how much he wants it, he will continue for his audience until he comes." Now, from all around, I could smell the dark, dank musk of Vargyr arousal, how it mingled with my own scent. I swallowed nervously, and the stuff in my mouth slid thickly down my throat. Again almost thought I heard the doctor at my ear, kindly, encouraging, "Good pup."

"That he is a poor little slut-puppy who needs a good fucking. That he needs to get used to needing it, since it is what he is for," Warrris was enjoying this and he was not alone. I was blushing as hard as I ever had in my life, but at the same time I was enjoying it, too. I had wanted to believe it at the time. Those listening believed it now.

"That he is a naughty Halivarri, and a little tease who needs to be fucked." My thighs spread under the ongoing sensation of the rear seam of my pants. "In his own words, a fuck-slut for hard Vargyr cock." I was aware of my restless motions but powerless to prevent them, even though I had never been more aware of how lifting my ass to squirm against the seam, or bucking my hips to thrust my throbbing sex against the nearly sheer front panel would indicate just that, my body's testimony to the truth.

"Further, upon investigation," Warrris continued relentlessly, "He affirmed that in saying so, he is not telling naughty lies, and that he is just a hungry little slut-puppy Who needs a good hard fucking, on a good hard Vargyr knot." I could not see any of my crewmates well enough to see if they were aroused and sliding stiffly from their sheathes but I didn't need to see, the scent was enough. Were all of them imagining what it would be like to have me?

Warris went on, his voice sly and insinuating as he continued to repeat everything I'd said when asked what I really wanted, what I need, what I am. "That in his own estimation, he is a cock-slut, a dirty little fuck-pup who needs hard Vargyr knot and hot Vargyr cum in his naughty little mouth and up his hungry little ass. And that he likes being a little fuck-pet, a naughty little slut-pup itching for thick Vargyr cock and hard Vargyr knot." He drew out those last three words and let them hang heavily in the air. He was done.

"Thank you for that summary, Records Officer Warrris. Mate Dasker?"

I jumped. "Sir?"

"Do you agree that the summary given is factual?"

"Yes, sir."

"Do you wish to disavow any of the statements?"

I blushed, reached to try to make my erection less noticeable. As soon as it reached its destination, my hand seemed to forget what it had come to do and fidgeted slowly. "No, sir."

"To clarify, you support all your previous statements as the truth?"

"Yes, sir." On each slow tug of the slick material over my sex, I drew the back seam along my cleft to tease my slick, quivering button.

"You understand that these statements will appear in the official record of your Disciplinary Hearing, in the ship's flec library as a public record, freely available?" First Officer Rrnoldt took pains to make this point.

"Yes, sir." One thing I had learned was that rumor flew like the wind on the Gvadakoung. Even if officers generally did not fraternize with shipmen and crew, Arrvis would know, and would need to buy back prestige lost to his own hearing. Soon enough, everyone who cared to would be reading it for themselves.

"And you do not wish to qualify your statements in any way?"

"No, sir."

"Very well, let it be so recorded. Mate Dasker, you may spend time with your hand as you like, now that we will be hearing other testimony." Only then did I realize that I had again been playing with myself blatantly while others watched. I blushed and bit my lip. My hand slowed, but didn't stop.

The hearing did not take as long a time as I expected. We had commenced right at the begining of fifth duty watch and the panel of officers - all strangers to me - were sent into the ready room to seek their verdict at the beginning of the eighth. Officer Rnnoldt called a recess for the rest of us and food was brought in.

I was not permitted to leave the dock, but a tray was brought which fit onto the rail, and it was supplied with a light meal made up of various things that the all-perceptive ship systems had noted that I preferred to eat. I glanced back at Doctor Courangara. Had his dietary orders regarding the special supplement been put in force? He offered me the faintest smile and a nod. I ate.

Food gave my hands and mouth something to do, but left my mind free to speculate. I had never before been party to a legal proceeding. At home, I had only just come of an age where I might be called upon as an auditor at our parochial assizes. And nothing I had learned in my dutiful seasons studying civics addressed military courts - Halivarr has no military, and Imperium law only intruded so far as the terms of our trade status as a sovereign client world and formalities involving how we managed our planet's starport facilities.

So I had no basis of comparison for the court-martial, the evidence presented, my examination on various points, the testimony of those called to address the court or the impression these made on the jurors (if that is what they were) watching from a row of seats off to my left. I had not really had time to think over anything I had seen or said until now, but in retrospect I found the trial was in many ways like my initial days onboard the Gvadakoung, with all the crew eyeing me in a way I didn't yet understand.

Doctor Courangara had been called to speak to the physiological basis of my sexual urges and the particulars of Halivarri instinct. He offered a brief explanation of both my bond with the Captain and the condition of physical rut that this had awakened. In answer to inquiry, he said that sixteen was a late onset, but by his best estimation I would be experiencing my heightened urges for at least twenty years during which any physical aging would be suspended, and that sexual activity seemed to result in physical developments that would make me more responsive over time.

He then mentioned the broad range of pheromonal output and the involuntary but provocative body language. (Various of those in attendance took a moment to admire how my backside squirmed as I pumped my cock slowly.) He spoke also of the psionic aspect of Halivarri nature, how this was not under my control although I had been made able to detect it at work.

This point brought its own questions, and he explained my medical regimen: exercise for body tone and limberness, massage to treat muscle soreness and provide override relief for sexual tensions (bootleg video flecs of me on the gymnasium massage bot were selling for a month's worth of liquor and dreamgrass credit). He explained his prescription of anti-anxiety soother tablets formulated with a flavor intended to assist me in both enjoying the medication and relaxing into the experience when I acted in accord with my Halivarri nature.

I nearly choked on my tongue as I understood that I was being intentionally conditioned to be soothed by the taste of Vargyr semen. But even as I blushed at the realization (snickers from the gallery) I saw that it would indeed help me be less anxious with the crew.

Doctor Courangara explained that he had adjusted my anxiety prescription twice - once to allow me to be consciously aware of my telepathic gift, and the second time to enhance my susceptibility to subliminal conditioning. Asked to expand on this, he detailed his test and my pleasing receptivity and also his intention of setting up a program of suggestions embedded in various ways to train me to respond without undue hesitation to those urges which, as a healthy young Halivarri male, it was in my best medical interest to accept and indulge.

He was asked by First Officer Rrnolt whether this meant that such behavior as I had exhibited was due to traits I owed to my Halivarri heritage and said that yes, it was precisely what he meant. One of the Review Panel asked if it were true that I had been "waving my tail" at him. The doctor turned to favor me with an indulgent smile, and allowed that I had visited him in his quarters seeking counseling regarding his state of rut, that I had indeed sat in his lap and squirmed until he had indeed been aroused, and that I had seemed to be more comfortable with my bottom snug against his full maleness.

Another asked about the specific testimony I had given, and whether I was in his opinion sincere in such statements or merely speaking out of fear that I would be taken by force. Doctor Courangara said that he was confident of my sincerity. While he believed I had in a fashion been coached to express myself in terms that my crewmates wished to hear, he also believed that while unscientific and imprecise, my self-description as "a naughty little slut-pup who needs hard Vargyr cock and hot Vargyr cum in his naughty little mouth and up his tight little ass" was substantially true, and that regular and vigorous activity would most likely make it moreso.

He left the stand to much amusement and speculative talk among those present, and Crewman Arrvis was called forward next.

Arrvis seemed reluctant, and daunted by the officers of the hearing, but I learned that he had been offered mitigation of his own sentence if he agreed to appear at my hearing. He cast a somewhat guilty glance toward me at this disclosure, but I smiled and shook my head to show there were no hard feelings, which seemed to relieve him a great deal. Yes, he was willing to answer any questions regarding his role in the incident.

It was observed from the bench that my account of our meeting had largely agreed with his, and that it was conceded that we had both been telling the truth, and this relieved him further. He was asked whether he had previously known that some physical cues, such as the actions he had found me in the midst of, were performed instinctually rather than with conscious intent to arouse. He had not. Had he been under the impression that I was intentionally soliciting familiar behavior? Yes, he had been under that impression. Had I rebuffed his attentions in any way? No, if anything my responses had given the impression that I had wanted them to continue and to go further.

Arrvis was asked about our discussion as we initiated our intimacies and whether I had reported it correctly. He grinned toothily. He apologized that he could not recall the specifics himself, as he had been quite thoroughly distracted by my charms, and had merely been saying whatever came into his head. He confirmed that my account seemed likely to be accurate as far as he could remember.

He then was asked if he had intended his remarks in any pejorative sense and seemed genuinely surprised. No, he had not. Everything he had said was meant as sincere appreciation. Did he think I was just a slut-pup and so forth? He did not, but thought that I wanted to and should be. I blushed and reflexively squeezed my cock in a slow, pumping stroke. He saw this, grinned fiercely at me and winked. He was allowed to leave the stand.

The security detail commander, who it seemed was named Harrnn, was called next and questioned more briefly. Yes, his crew had indulged in some liberties with their stun-batons, not having had orders to the contrary. No, he could not recall what had suggested the idea, but he had felt compelled to demonstrate to me that he and his crew was in charge. He had not had any intention to harm me or even to hurt me.

Harrnn said that would characterize his behavior and that of his crew as playful. My behaviour he would characterize as eager to be played with. I had not offered any resistance, but seemed more than ready to offer whatever they wanted. Did he think that I had meant the words they had persuaded me to share? He did. Did he believe that I was just a fuck-slut and so on. He did not believe that I was only a fuck-slut, but that I truly deserved and enjoyed that reputation. He was thanked and allowed to step down.

This concluded the testimony. The Review Panel was informed that they would be sequestered in the ready room while they reached a verdict on all charges. They would have flecs of the full testimony, and refreshments would be provided. They would begin at once.

I was tense and shaken, ravenously hungry and moreover highly and conspicuously aroused (a glance down confirmed that the lighting of the dock showed my erection quite plainly. I also saw that I had been playing with myself again, and I moved my hand back to the hand-rail. I looked up to the bench where First Officer Rrnoldt was speaking easily to the Captain and to Records Officer Warrris. When I finally caught my Captain's eye, he finally relented and gave me a smile along with a look that could only be described as smoldering. I squirmed and bit my lip, and he looked away.

"Members of the Review Panel, honorable Chair, have you reached your verdict?" First Officer Rnnoldt had resumed his impartial judicial guise.

"We have, sir." The chair of the panel was the oldest - and largest - of those present.

"On the charge of delinquency in compliance with a medically ordered gymnasium regimen, how do you find?"

"We find the defendant, Mate Dasker, not guilty, sir."

"On the charge of willfully diverting a crewman from execution of his assigned duties, how do you find?"

"We find the defendant not guilty, sir."

"On the charge of exerting undue influence and suasion including psionic coercion upon crewmen in pursuit of personal satisfaction, how do you find?"

"We find the defendant not guilty, sir."

"And on the charge of unauthorized access and operation of ship weaponry, how do you find?"

"With respect, sir, we find the defendant, Mate Dasker, guilty as charged."

"The bench concurs. Members of the Review Panel and honorable chair you are dismissed."

My tray had been removed before the panel had returned from its deliberation, so I was able to steady myself with my hands at the rail. Blessedly, the panel had not been asked to pass judgment on whether or not I was a slut-pup and so on, and my arousal had diminished to a manageable level. Still, I was on edge from awareness of my own scent (as I had not seen a fresher since my encounter with Arrvis) and awareness of the effect this had on those present - including my Captain.

It may not have been asked of the panel and so would not appear in the verdict, but the public record of my court-martial would be full of the talk I'd found falling from my lips in reply to Arrvis and his entirely welcome attentions, and also to the guards sent to arrest us. Doctor Courangara seemed to have heard some of this before my examination, going by his calling me "pup" at significant moments. And so had the security officer who had released me from my cell. I was sure to hear it again. And now I knew also that when I was called "pup", it would really mean "cum-slut" and "fuck-pet." Thinking about that made me shiver. I very carefully kept both of my hands on the rail.

I had been told that I would be sentenced at my hearing, and First Officer Rrnoldt was deep in conference with the Captain. After a short while, Doctor Courangara was asked to join them. Occasionally, one or the other would look my way with a measuring gaze and sometimes drawing the others' attention to me as well as they discussed whatever they were discussing about me. I found such looks electrifying, and almost froze under attention. As this went on, I could feel my sex stir and swell and knew that this would be noticed, too. My mind was a turmoil of expectation, anxiety, a flotsam of hopes and fears tossed on a restless sea of uncertainty. Predictably, my wrist unit chimed and I took my soothers, letting them melt on my tongue, savoring the taste as they calmed me. I saw Doctor Courangara regarding me with his warm amber eyes and just a hint of a smile, and this time did not doubt that it was his voice at my ear when I heard, "That's my good little pup." I swallowed, and my cock stiffened further, but I kept my hands on the rail.

It was not very long after that they seemed to reach an agreement. My Captain returned to his officially impartial observer's seat. Doctor Courangara returned to the back of the room but passed closely enough for me to catch his spicy Rakashah scent. First Officer Rrnoldt took up his place presiding from the bench and nodded at Records Officer Warrris that he was ready to resume.

Defendant, Crewman and Captain's Mate Halliday Dasker, you have been found guilty by the Review Panel of unauthorized access and operation of ship weaponry. This bench and the Captain are in agreement with this verdict. As this ship is the sole vessel in its fleet, no appeal of this court's judgment can be made. Can you present any reason that its sentence shall not be pronounced upon you?"

"No, sir." My voice was hoarse. I cleared my throat, tasted the flavor of Vargyr cum, swallowed.

"Very well. The bench mitigates the customary sentence for this offense on the grounds that you were led in this situation by a more experienced crewmember and that by his own account you expressed your misgivings at the time. Nonetheless, your reckless action resulted in the firing of ship gun which you are not qualified to service, much less operate. Given the potential danger of this mishap, I am unable to commute your sentence entirely."

He looked at his notes for a moment, then continued. "Further, as this investigation has brought to light, it is understood by the court that you have particular circumstances which we must consider carefully for medical reasons. In allowing for these, a particular sentence has been arrived at which will also serve the necessary purpose of punishment. That sentence is as follows:"

"Firstly, as the intrusion into restricted areas was occasioned by a desire for privacy which given your avowed character is believed to be unwarranted, it is ordered that you no longer attempt to disguise or conceal intimacies that may spontaneously arise between yourself and members of the crew, but shall be conducted at the same place where the encounter initially occurs with allowance made only to changes of location undertaken for reasons of safety."

I blushed at this, but saw the reasoning. If I go about soliciting attention in public areas, then I should expect to have to follow through on whatever attention I attract there, as well.

"Secondly, that you shall diligently pursue training in shipboard safety and procedure, and with those elements of the Scout Service Cadet Curriculum as are assigned to you for your own protection and that of the safety of this ship and its crew."

"Thirdly, for your own safety, your shore leave is cancelled for all ports of call until such time as said restriction is rescinded."

"Fourthly, you are assigned to two watches of janitorial duty on the E Deck relief stations every other day, the watches being assigned on rotation to assure full exposure to each shift crew."

I had not returned to E Deck since my initial unnerving experience there. While I had been thinking of possibly returning at some point if I found the courage, now it had been decided for me. I shivered, and reached absently to adjust myself in the front of my pants.

"Fifthly, insofar as you have expressed no objection to such language before this court, crewmembers of any rank will be permitted at their discretion and in place of your surname, rank or office to address you as slut-pup', fuck-pup', cock-slut', cum-slut' and similar terms in a jocular manner, and these will be accepted as friendly and familiar address and not be cause for allegations of harassment. Notice will be given to all crew to this affect."

I shivered, and my twitching, seeping cock strained the front panel of my trousers enough to draw the rear seam tight and set the teasing nodules in motion. I new how such words would be addressed to me - with a growl warm against my ear.

"Sixth and lastly," Rrnoldt continued, jarring me back to the present, "you will without fail attend the Captain at the Captain's table each night in the Officers' Mess. You shall arrive, and serve, in whatever state you happen to be in at that time, and tardiness to address your appearance will not be excused. Also, you will valet the Captain each night that he requests this of you, and in all matters obey his instructions and accept his discipline."

Arrvis had teased me with the fact that my encounter with Orrng and his bunkmates had made me late to that duty on my first day, and sent me there unwashed too. I blushed, recalling that after that dinner, when we were alone in his quarters, my Captain had forbid me to use a fresher.

"Crewman and Captain's Mate Halliday Dasker, do you understand the terms of your sentence?"

"I do, sir."

"Then you are remanded to the custody of the Captain until such time as your duties commence. This closes Discipline Hearing number 55672. Court is adjourned."

The doors opened and those in attendance filed out and the light beneath me went dark as the dock and its handrail sank into the floor. The room's diffuse lights came up, tables appeared to arrange themselves in their usual position. Only my Captain and I were left in the room. He had resumed his stern visage, circled, came up to stand behind me so close that I could feel the heat of his body. Doubtless he could feel mine.

"That was quite a display, Dasker," came his low, even voice. It was a voice that seldom had to give an order twice. "I wonder if I have misjudged you."

"Sir?" My ears drooped at the thought that I had disappointed him.

"Yes." I shivered. He let the word hang before he continued. "I had expected that your, ah, indiscretion with Shipman Orrng and his bunkmates would be an exceptional occurrence , but here I learn that you have already made a conquest of his bunkmate whom you had not yet enjoyed, and have even made advances on our formidable Doctor Courangara."

"Yes, sir." I had said as much at my hearing already. It was pointless to deny or justify it now.

"I value discipline in my crew, Dasker, but it seems you are determined to set it on its ear." His muzzle tickled my ear as he spoke, the first he had actually touched me since our last night together after the Orrng incident. "Indeed, I despair of you ever learning to discipline your own hands.

I blushed to my toes, abruptly aware that I had been handling myself since halfway through my sentencing. I froze, then felt the Captain lay his hand over my own, his fingertips stroking the gaps between my fingers, just grazing my sex. "No," he said, breath warm in my ear as he let his muzzle brush me there. "Do not stop. Continue, but know you are doing it and that I know, too." His hand moved my own along my sex slowly so that his own fingertips stroked me as well.

"And such language you let the crew use with you, Dasker." A soft growl burred his voice as he continued. "I am almost forced to agree with Crewman Aarvis that if you are not a naughty little slut-pup yet that you at least want to be one." I shivered as those words fell from my bond-mates lips into my ear. "And I think you should be. pup." His hand caught the fabric of the panel of my uniform pants, slick with hours of my precum, slid it up along my cock, drawing the rear seam tight. I squirmed. He nipped my ear with his teeth.

"Doctor Courangara omitted to tell the hearing about the alterations he has made to your uniform, Dasker. But he told me. Perhaps I had ought to see that the crew know as well, or perhaps I shall let them make the discovery on their own." Palming my hand over my sex, stroking me with that slick panel, tugging that seam against me as he spoke, over and over. "I have been trying to decide what punishment you ought to have, Dasker, just from me." His voice was deep and dark.

"I think I have decided at least where I should begin. I will have your uniform top altered as well, here, and here." My Captain's other hand came around my chest, followed the cropped hem of my shirt where it ran right over my upper pair of nipples from right to left, strumming with his thumb. "The same kind of nan0-driven massagers, but much, much more sensitive to motion. They'll trigger when you breathe. Would you like that, Dasker? A little reminder of me wherever you go?"

"Yes, sir." I was beginning to realize that he was in no way upset with me. His intense and stern demeanor, it seemed, had been to mask his own profound arousal. He moved forward and I felt his sex press against me from behind.

"That's my good little pup." He bucked his hips once, slowly. I was too short for him to press himself against my ring, but I could feel just a hint of his knot at the top of my cleft, and the thickness of his length along the base of my tail. The hand on my chest stroked down, ruffling the soft fur on my torso, thumbing over the two lower nipples on my left. His other hand continued to pump my cock slowly with my own, deliberately tugging the rear seam tight with each stroke.

"But we were discussing punishments, weren`t we. pup?" I moaned. He flicked my ear with his tongue. "I have decided on another one, from me to you. I bucked my seeping sex into his hand, he stilled me, then stroked me again - more slowly. "If you continue to be naughty, Dasker, I don't think you should be allowed to share my bed every night. I think I will have to give you your own room, so I can send you there when you misbehave." My heart pounded at the thought of being separated. My wrist unit chirped at me, and I raised it to lick up my soothers, let them melt on my tongue.

"Oh, not every night. But often enough for you to appreciate the honor when I allow you to bed with me. Otherwise, your place will be down on C Deck, across from the Canteen. Orrng took you there, didn't he? It is a popular spot." His and wandered to tease over my lower right nipples idly. "But I don't think you should need a door or any privacy screen, do you? Not now that I finally understand how much you need to be on display." He bucked his hips again and tugged the slick panel of my pants upward.

"You know Records Officer Warrris. His hobby is taking holoprints, very sensitive work. Very artistic. I think I shall have you model for him, Dasker. Would you like that? The prints wouldn't really be dignified enough for my quarters, but I think they'd look nice in yours. Something else for all your friends to look at." He was growling in my ear, teasing me, keeping me hard and wanting. "But that is for other nights, Dasker." His voice softened to something softer and more tender. "Because that hearing was really very moving, although I am sure it was stressful for you. And I intend to show you that I don't mind anything your Halivarri nature needs, Dasker. I think if I did try to keep you to myself, I would face a mutiny." His arms around me tightened into a hug. "So I will do what I said. Never doubt it. But so you can be naughty and misbehave, pup, not because you do."

"And I will have my time with you, Hali - when and where I like." I shivered, and felt something like a chuckle behind me. "For now however, tonight, you will come with me to quarters and you will help me out of this uniform, and I will explain my expectations fully, pup, until I am sure you understand, yes?"

"Yes, sir."

I let him lead me away then, to explain himself privately. I would do my best to understand.