Date: Tue, 21 Nov 2023 18:04:23 +0000 (UTC)
From: Toni Daring <tonidaring@yahoo.com>
Subject: Awakening - Part 10

Awakening, Part 10

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

If you enjoy this story and others here, please consider making a donation
to Nifty at https://donate.nifty.org/ to help keep this free erotic story
archive available.

Vargyr Starcruiser Gvadakoungg, Space


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

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

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

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

* * *

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

* * *

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

* * *

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

	* * *

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

	* * *

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

	* * *

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

	*	*	*