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It was not immediately apparent what reason the captain had for rescuing us.
We’d been scared, when we saw the jets of water spout up from the beach just a few feet from us, like fucking firehoses into the sky. I think I thought it was some kind of pipeline that had burst, or something-- couldn’t conceive of what exactly it could be, otherwise. Whales come around the islands, but not much. Then the dome of the ship rose above the water, and Jackie was like, oh, dude, it’s a fucking boat.
We thought it was maybe military, and we weren’t sure if we should hide. Liz yelled to come behind a rock for a second, and we conferred there. If the island was military, that meant we were definitely trespassing. We weren’t sure exactly where we were-- Jackie had claimed to understand navigation, but did not, and we were at least twenty miles from the San Juans. We could be in Canadian waters, for all we knew. Liz pointed out that it wasn’t our fault we were shipwrecked. Jackie said that you couldn’t trust the CIA to believe us that we were shipwrecked. I said it was our fault for not knowing anything about sailboats, and also we would die here if we got left, so if we had to go to prison for trespassing on military territory or waterboarded or whatever, that was fine, because I sure as hell would do that before die of starvation or my shellfish allergy.
Jackie insisted, in a hushed, insistent voice, anyone can live on oysters and seaweed, that they’re complete protein and have iodine in them. At that point, I stood up and waved my hands, frantically, at the guy standing on top of the dome of the boat.
He wasn’t military, it turned out-- he was a rich guy with his own boat. Submarine. I wasn’t actually sure what to call it, because it was so different from anything I’d ever seen before. There was a great big dome on the top of it, and weird pipes and frills down the side. It had a pointed nose, and two great headlights like eyes on top, and a sort of spear the size of a tree on its front, pointed and sharp. It was shaped like what I thought an old Roman galley would look like, from historical illustrations in books I’d read as a kid, but sealed, with all these powerful round blasters down the sides. It gleamed silver in the sun when it surfaced. It looked too big to fit down below, in the shallow water around the island. But I didn’t know anything about the sea. That was my problem.
The captain and this other guy rowed over to us. Jackie came out from behind the rock when she realized that he wasn’t military. You could tell from the lack of guns, and from the dinghy, and his outfit. He was dressed kind of old-timey, with a white hat and blue coat-- the coat rougher and more industrial than an actual old sailor suit, but the vibe was on. His bearing did feel kind of military-- he stood straight up, with his hands folded behind him elegantly. His chest and belly stood out on him against his perfectly upright spine. He had a neatly combed gray beard, and little round glasses, and a beaky nose, and large, tan hands. He came over to me and held one out. It was craggy, but the nails were short and neat.
“We’re shipwrecked,” I said. “We came on a sailboat, and the sail fell off, and then we ran into the rocks.”
“I’m the captain,” he said. “You seemed like you were in trouble. Come on, then.”
“Hello,” I said, and I told him my name. I didn’t say Liz or Jackie’s, in case they decided to run. I knew I didn’t want to. They didn’t run; they came closer. And they followed me on board.
The captain spoke first as we descended beneath the cold green waters. Outside the porthole I could see the dark shapes of the island’s rock jutting up on one side, then getting dimmer. He stood behind me in the narrow hallway we came in through. The light was thin and yellow under the porthole, and then it was green and darker for a minute until the lamps kicked on.
“Well,” he said thoughtfully, looking at me, stroking his beard. Liz and Jackie stood behind me, past the scope of his eye. “I think we could always use a few extra hands to pull in the fish, and to scrub things. Now that Joe’s no longer fit. I don’t suppose you eat that much, compared to most of us. We shouldn’t have to worry about anything really until about December, and then we can budget for a larger crew and take from somewhere else.”
“Haha,” I said. “No need. You can bring us like, anywhere we can get a car from. We’ll figure it out.”
“Oh no,” he said. “I can’t allow for that. No, you’ll have to stay here forever, I’m afraid. I have many enemies, and they would certainly pursue you on land once they learned of our association.”
I didn’t really believe him, even though he was so obviously weird and this was obviously a massive, weird submarine that I’d never heard of before, that probably was made by someone rich. I knew truly rich people definitely had enemies, in a kind of theoretical way, but it didn’t click that he wasn’t joking.
“I guess we’re just your prisoners, then?” I said. My laugh sounded weird, but that was partly because I thought he was hot, and I get weird around guys I think are hot. I didn’t actually believe he could be saying what he was clearly saying.
“Not at all,” he said. “I just can’t let you go.” He looked us over. We were all wearing the muddy beachwear we’d been in the day we wrecked. Five days ago, now. I was trying to catch Liz’s eye, to gauge how fucked she thought we were.
“Not super funny, dude,” Jackie said tensely.
“I guess you’ll all be needing new clothes,” the captain said to her, politely, as if she was commenting on his lack of hospitality in offering her a towel, instead of him going under the water with us without telling us where we were going. “I’ll have Davis make you some to your size, but for now we can use some others. There’s twelve people, in addition to you, on this vessel. Some are your size.”
We were taken to a cabin by Davis, who was tall and well-built and had no hair, though he couldn’t have been older than me. He said nothing to us as we walked down one metal-floored hallway and scrambled down another set of stairs. He fumbled a minute with the keys to the door we stood in front of, and I assessed whether I could knock him out and grab the keys. But what would I do then? The door opened, and Liz drew in a breath.
“This guy is rich,” she said, redundantly. There was all kinds of gorgeous stuff in there. The wallpaper was red and gold, and there was a clashing orange bedspread, the kind of clash that rich people did because they just picked out what they liked. There were large heavy steel shelves built into the wall, with Art Deco squares and angles, packed with books held in with an additional band of steel--probably, I thought, for when the boat went down fast, as it was now doing. The cabinets were green, and the floor was carpeted. A sun-lamp-lit hydroponic tower in the corner overflowed with large tomato plants, and made the room have a bright, vivid glow. The clothes Davis gave us were the same as what he wore—they were weird, dark blue jumpsuits with strange stiff plastic collars around the neck, made of the same artificial industrial kind of nylon that the captain’s coat was made of. The collar was scratchy and made my neck feel strangely constricted, even though it was open at the front. Davis didn’t stay to watch us change. He pointed to an open bathroom door and to a towel cabinet and left. We all shrugged and went ahead and scrubbed ourselves off with washcloths, taking turns in the bathroom. It was a few minutes after we all changed before we realized we were locked in.
“This is fucked up,” Liz said. “And my phone’s dead. We can’t even signal.”
“I think this is just an adventure,” I said, more lightly than I felt. “Weird guy. We’ll be fine. He’ll want to talk our ear off and then we’ll go. Maybe sign a non-disclosure thing, if that’s what it’s really about.”
But we stayed in the room for hours, as the light from the porthole grew progressively darker. After the first two hours, the lamps flicked off. Jackie kicked the door, then, but it was made of metal. We all sat together on the bed, in the weird-feeling clothes, and after a while, after we told jokes and then snapped at each other and then got quiet, we didn’t say anything at all.
It must have really been night when the door opened again, though the light had gotten dim long prior to that. The figure standing in the door was also tall and built and without hair, like Davis. He beckoned--to all of us or just to me, I couldn’t tell. As I stood and approached him, I realized it wasn’t Davis. I paused, not sure where to start. Is this a cult? Are we going to be killed?
“What the fuck is your deal, man,” Liz yelled, pushing me aside as she ran up to him.
Not-Davis turned to her. “The captain will speak to you more now,” he said. “You can speak to him, but only with courtesy.”
“Where are we?” Jackie screamed. “What the fuck are you going to do with us. Why did you lock us in this room? You fucking cunts turned out the lights on us, no info, no idea what the fuck’s going on. I have rights!”
Not-Davis turned away and put one hand up to the side of his face as if they were hurting his ears.
I decided it was my job to be reasonable, if Liz and Jackie couldn’t. You didn’t talk like this to rich people. They always thought they were doing you a favor even when they were massively inconveniencing you. “Look,” I said, as gently as I could, in the conflict-resolution voice I’d learned in high school when my sister fought with my dad, “we just want to understand what exactly this is. We’re really hungry, and we’ve been shipwrecked for days, and tensions are just really high right now with us.”
Not-Davis nodded. He patted me on the shoulder. “You can come,” he said. “You have courtesy. You can come speak to the captain. Your companions will remain here.”
What a bitch, I thought, as he locked Liz and Jackie in and turned to go down the hallway. But I didn’t say anything-- just tried to give them a look that I was helpless in this and would try to sort it out. Then I looked at Not-Davis’s ass. His legs and ass stood out in the uniform he wore, which was the same as our blue jumpsuits. He had beautiful legs. I suddenly wondered if this was some billionaire’s gay party boat. Did the captain have a bunch of servant go go boys to wait on him? And a weird uniform fetish? A sailor thing? I felt a sudden little thrill in my gut. Had we stumbled on some massive scandal with one of the world’s elite? I didn’t recognize the captain, but he was one of those faces that if he was one of the world’s uber-rich, it would make sense.
It seemed like we walked for a long time. There were some parts that had pipes and industrial stuff overhead, and some places where there was odd green wallpaper and strange decorative lighting shaped like fanciful eggs. Those parts had carpet. I felt carpet wasn’t practical in a submarine, but that just went to show--what? Not-Davis took me through hallways and up more stairs. I felt the growl in my stomach again-- it had subsided some time ago, but now it came back, because I was moving. And I had to pee. We passed a few more beautiful, bald young men on the walk through the galley’s network of steps and rails. Finally, he opened a hatch above us, and a ladder unfurled, and he stopped formally, as if this was the end of our journey. I felt like bending over almost, I was so faint from hunger and the weirdness of it all. But I managed to climb the steps.
When I emerged, I realized I was in the glassy area that I had seen the dome of when I was outside the ship on the island. There was a large steel floor with parquet patterns in it, and the figure of the captain, standing with his back to me, facing the ocean. It was just blue, with figures of schools of fish playing in the light across us. We were out further now, I could tell, for the sea floor was not visible below us, even a great distance below us. We must be going straight out to sea, I thought, and that was the first time I really panicked.
“Captain,” I said to the captain’s back, because there wasn’t any other name to call him. “My friends and I are wondering exactly what you plan to do with us. We’re all very hungry, and we’ve been through a lot of trouble, even if it was our fault. I know you have your own business, but--”
He turned to me, and walked slowly over as I spoke, until he stood just in front of me, looking down at me very close to my face. My eyes were level with his broad chest, and I could see how the hair on his chest went up onto his neck, joined his silver beard. I finally had to stop speaking, because at this distance, the smell of him hit me. He smelled very strong. Not bad, I thought-- I like a lot of men’s B.O, really, and he didn’t smell musky, or sour, just deeply salty and sharply sweaty-- but I couldn’t form words.
“I understand that it all feels very overwhelming,” he said. “And I understand if this is more difficult because you didn’t choose it. But you’ll adjust.”
This wasn’t very comforting. I decided to deal with first things first. “My friends and I really need some food,” I said. “I think we’ll all calm down a lot once we have some.”
“I agree,” the captain said. “I will have some food sent to them.” He reached to his waist and pressed a button, then lifted his wrist to his mouth, as if it was a headset. “Send food to the new recruits, Davis,” he said. “Plenty, please. They need it. But nothing rich, or their stomachs won’t accept it, if they’ve really been starving for days.” He looked over at me again. “That just occurred to me. You’re not sent by my enemies, are you? You’re really shipwrecked?”
“Yes,” I said, growing more nervous by the second. “You can examine me any way you like, I swear I’m telling the truth.”
He cocked his head and looked down at me. He was really very close. When he lifted his hand and grabbed my chin, I wasn’t even really that surprised. “Hm,” he said. “Well, I will, then, thank you for your permission.” He stared deep at my eyes with his big gray clear ones, scowling. I wondered if this was the examination. Then he slowly smiled, on just the right corner of his mouth. “You’re absolutely suitable, you know,” he said, and with his other hand reached up and clipped the plastic collar on my jumpsuit’s neck shut, like a father fastening his child’s buttons. I couldn’t tell how he did it-- with magnets, or with some kind of hidden clasp. But it was shut, now, and constricting my neck more than ever. I could still breathe, but if I breathed deeply, the collar held my neck tight and the plastic ridges cut into my skin.
“Hey,” I said, reaching up to pull on it. It didn’t move. “I don’t think I want that so tight.”
“It needs to be,” he said. “Hold on. This should only hurt the first time.”
“What,” I started to say, but then I felt something like a very thin needle going into the side of my neck. It was desperately sharp. But because it was so sharp, a second later I wasn’t sure if it was just a pins and needles thing I had imagined, or a twinge in a nerve like you get sometimes. I put my hand to the collar, trying to reach around to touch the spot that I’d felt the prick. My legs felt suddenly wobbly. I must have actually been wobbling, because the captain reached out and grabbed my shoulder as if to steady me.
“Did something just stab me?” I asked, stupidly. At the same time, I began to feel warm in the place where he was touching my arm. It felt suddenly orgasmically warm. The pain in my stomach had hardened into a deep ache, and I felt dizzy.
The captain watched me intently. “I think I will need to rename you,” he said. His voice sounded somehow amplified.
“That doesn’t make sense,” I mumbled.
I felt my knees give way under me, and I crumpled down to the floor at his feet. I tried to stand again, but found that I couldn’t. My limbs felt very heavy. The warmth spreading through my body felt good, too-- tingly and bright. I was a little worried about it-- I remembered something I’d read about poison, or maybe cold temperatures, making you feel that way right before you died-- but I couldn’t totally remember, and the dizzy feeling that went with the warmth suddenly took over my brain too. I thought foggily of Liz and Jackie, and how badly I’d misread this situation.
The captain bent down a little, and scratched my head. “Oh dear,” he said. “That made you too pliable. I only meant to make you calm, so I could interrogate you, but it seems that it’s taken you right out. I haven’t thought in a while about how much more powerful it is on smaller people. But yes,” he said. “I will need to rename you. It makes sense because in order to keep you from telling about me, I will have to make you part of my house.” He put out a foot and very lightly pressed it to my chest. He pressed firmly but gently until I’d bent over backwards, my legs still in a kneeling position, and I was staring at the ocean sky above me. “If you are a spy, you won’t be any more in about thirty minutes.”
“I’m not a spy,” I said, and I started to cry. “Please don’t hurt me.” I thought I must be dying. I couldn’t move on my own any more, not even lift my head, though I was trying. My face was still my own, more or less, though my tongue was heavy in my mouth, but my arms and legs felt like weights. The captain stood over me, looking apologetic.
“I think I will call you Dog, for now,” he said. “Don’t worry, Dog. You aren’t dying. You’re being given a new purpose.”
“New...purpose?” I said, with difficulty.
“You’ll do work around the ship,” the captain said. “You’ll help haul in the nets, and you will scrub the galleys and take deep pride in it. You’ll obey Davis, and the other boys. They may use you, and it is with great pleasure that you will serve them.”
“...what,” I managed to stutter. “Serve them?”
“And you’ll be my dog,” the captain said. “I’ve had dogs before, though none now, so you fit very efficiently into the ship’s life. I like dogs.”
“Dog?” I said again, incredulously, from the metal floor, as the captain’s boot rested on my chest. It felt pleasurable, I thought. The part of my brain that rebelled against this thought was still there, but it had trouble articulating itself.
“That’s you,” the captain said. “Dog. You will serve me, and my pleasure will be the greatest joy to you, and you will further my mission, as is your duty, and you will be my comfort and my toy.” He said all this somewhat rotely, as if it was a legal document, and one he had recited before. “Say, woof, dog.”
I lay and looked at him for a long second, and noticed that, above me, there was a slight tent in the crotch of his white pants. He was getting hard on this literally right now, I thought. And then, I realized with a jolt. He wasn’t joking. He was going to rape me.
It was rape, right? If he fucked me, and I couldn’t move. Even if his boot felt good on my chest, impossibly, devastatingly fine cutting jagged imprints into the skin, pressing into the top of my painfully empty stomach. “Let me go back to Seattle,” I said.
He pressed the button again, that he’d pressed the first time. Another prick, though this time it came like a shock of blood to my cock. I felt immediately that I was wet, and the erotic ripple through my gut shook me.
“Say woof, dog,” he said. “Speak. Then drool.”
I felt a sound bubble up in my throat. It wasn’t exactly a bark-- it was too ill-formed-- but it was a distinctly nonhuman noise. I felt my mouth hang open afterward, and the drip of saliva in the back of my badly-hydrated mouth fell forward onto my tongue and over my lip onto my chin. I felt the impossibility of controlling my response to the captain. I had meant to lay still. I could not. I looked up at his clear gray eyes in the blue half-light. Above the captain something large moved a shadow over us. A seal? The ripples of light felt good, I mused. I could feel them, like soft breaths of wind, even though the air was so still.
The captain suddenly beamed down at me, as the tent in his pants got bigger. His eyes crinkled, like a kind uncle. “There,” he said. “Now you’re no trouble, are you. Only takes a couple little shots. Speak.”
I made the noise again, and felt myself growing happy at his pleasure. I moved my heavy hips slowly against the metal grille at my back. An image of a dog wagging its tail came into my head, unbidden. The captain’s boot pressed harder. “You know,” he said, “I’ve never done that without an induction first. I suppose that there’s really no need, with someone whose subconscious is so willing. Do you feel ashamed of yourself right now? Speak.”
I felt primarily happy that he was pleased with my actions, but after a second I realized that I did feel a bubble of shame welling up in my stomach, the worst shame I had ever experienced, at the lack of control I had over my body, and my inability to speak. I felt ashamed of the blush and the happy smile I felt spreading over my face. I woofed, again, and nodded slowly.
“You look a little tortured still,” the captain said. “Don’t worry. Service is good. It’s all easy from here. It will feel good, even if you feel shame now.”
I looked up at him, worried. I couldn’t tell what he wanted. The part of me that was still faintly awake realized that he was going to do something else to me, but I couldn’t tell what.
He crouched down on me, suddenly, his full weight briefly on my stomach and bladder. He caught my skull lightly up in one of his massive hands and held it up so I could see his boot pressing my guts flat. He was staring at me, his right-side-of-his-mouth smile still etched into his cheek. He reached with his other hand between my legs, and I felt that there was an open seam built into the crotch of these pants that I hadn’t noticed. We hadn’t been given underwear. A hot, dry, hard thumb and forefinger pulled my labia around my cock firmly apart, pressing the fabric apart too. The light above us changed again, became lighter, so that I could see more of his green-shadowed bearded face. I had the thought suddenly that I wanted to lick his face. I wondered if it wasn’t really night.
“Dog, piss yourself. Let go of your bladder and piss, now,” the captain said, and pushed my labia further apart so that the skin around my cock was taut. At the same time, he stepped down with his boot hard again.
I felt the hot wetness soaking my jumpsuit pants before I realized what was happening. A well of surprise hit me next, followed by fear. But over it, over all of it, I had a happy rush. I’d done what he said, and now I didn’t need to pee any more. The pain in my gut lessened a little. He was smiling with teeth now, and laughing.
“Now sit up,” he said. “You’ve got the right kind of courtesy now. That was easy. I think again my instincts are validated.” He took his boot off of me, and bent to push at me and turn me over. I felt his hands at the fabric. I felt shocked to realize that there was still more fabric opening in his hand-- a flap at the ass of the uniform attached with something that seemed like a solid part of the outfit, but came away in his hand so that my bare ass sat upturned. I couldn’t feel my feet, still and my hands were uncomfortably pressed under me.
“It’s wet,” he said. “It needs to get cleaned off, now.” He bent and I heard him spit neatly, and then I felt a damp cloth pushed along my cunt, dabbing gently at it. He wiped up toward my asshole. “Dirty boy. Five days outside. I suppose you cleaned yourself as well as you could.” He wiped the cloth gently at my asshole, and waves of pleasure rolled through me. I felt myself wiggling against him. I was losing my ability to even mentally protest to his touch. It felt too strong. I felt overwhelmed with it, with the pain of not being able to know what he wanted, to obey. He was the captain, and I…
“Dog,” he said. “Your captain is very pleased with you.” His thumb slid into my asshole, to my joy. I cried out with how good it was, and let my tongue loll onto the floor. I felt like I wanted to arch my back, but I couldn’t move enough to do it. I must have looked very stupid, but I had forgotten to know that this was something I could change, that I could move my face or my body, or even try. “You’ll be a relief to all of us.” His thumb dug deeper into me, big and hard. My hole was dry, except for the little spit he’d put on it, and it hurt like it was tearing, but it also felt thrilling. He withdrew his thumb, and I felt miserable, until after the noise of a small cap popping, his thumb and forefinger returned, covered in a slick substance, pressing deeper into me. I was full, and I was going to be full, and this was my captain. I could feel him bending over me, closer to me, taking my hair in his hand and pressing my face into the grating. He had been so composed, but now he grunted a little as he stretched my hole open.
“That’ll take two boys at once, in time,” he said. “I trust you’re going to do wonderful work.” His voice was a little less polite than it had been now, as his fingers moved inside me. “Oh, you’re actually beautiful, Dog. Hot and wet. You became a creature so fast. I hope you didn’t come to spy on me, and this is just chance.” His ring finger and middle finger probed at my pussy and forced inside, and I felt myself clench tight around him. “It would be a great sign of good fortune, you coming to serve my mission just after Joe. Constancy. Consistency.”
I couldn’t follow him, which I knew he knew. The fingers that had been in my pussy suddenly were in my ass, and while I couldn’t move most of my body, I could still scream. It was a delighted scream, and I tried to form the words thank you, but I couldn’t move my tongue the right way. My tongue only went up and down, and up and down, lapping at the floor as he lifted me more into the air.
“Dog is a fine little bitch,” he said gently. “I’ll take you harder now.” His hand moved faster inside me, pushing me down and forward, and I felt more and more of my sphincter give way to his hard fingers. My ass let out a deep, loud fart against his fingers, and that too was only pleasure. He laughed as he held my collar and hammered harder into me. I was stretching more than I ever had before, my ass pulled wide and pushed full with him, and it was sore but only in a way that was deep and satisfying. I felt myself about to cum, a big shaking feeling below my gut. It spasmed through my paralyzed body even as I couldn’t feel it in my limbs. I trembled as he threw himself down on me. He was panting now, more like an animal than me. I could feel his breath on my neck.
“Good bitch,” he said. “It learns so fast what is expected of it. Oh, and this fine cunt.” He raised himself up and I heard him fumbling with cloth. A pause as I waited, and knew, and then the weight of his warm, heavy, velvety cock against my ass and back. He rested it on me, looking. “A good little bitch serves the captain like this, too. Spread your legs.”
I found that when he commanded me, I could do it. His hand still in my ass, he pressed his girthy cock against my pussy. I felt the head stretch me, though it was wet from rubbing me, and it hurt at the same moment as it caused another shudder to pass through me, nearly making me pass out with feeling. Nothing had ever felt like that before, I thought to myself. I wanted to hold him inside me forever. It felt like I was where his cock was meant to go. It just fit.
“Drool more, dog,” he said.
He rode me for a few minutes, and I felt the cold metal pressed into my face, making marks, as the light swam above us and strange creatures moved outside. I grew less groggy with the minutes, though the waves of pleasure did not diminish. Finally he began to let out little breaths like he was going to cum inside me. I pressed back, the happiness I felt earlier blooming like a sun in me. I wanted the captain’s cum. I wanted to be bred, his dog. Some part of this thought came from me, bubbling up with the warmth of the needle that had pricked me. Some part of it felt like it was there already, carried from someone else before, a dog that had been fine and served its master, whose shoes I was meant to fill now.
But the captain pulled out. “Dog was hungry,” he said, panting, but resuming some of his earlier gentle tone. He sat back on his legs. “Dog, you may sit up and turn around and beg for dinner.”
Again, my body moved even though I could hardly feel it. My head spun, and I didn’t want to sit up. I wanted to lay down and open my legs and beg him to put it back inside me, to continue using my pussy, or my throat, or any of my holes, or at least to touch me.
I panted, holding my arms up in front of me. “Please, captain, can I have dinner,” I slurred. “Please, captain, I’ll do anything, please fuck me more, please breed your dog.”
He took in a breath as he rubbed his cock idly, kneeling and facing me, and scowled a little. “I didn’t ask you to beg for that. Bad dog,” he said.
The shame of that scowl took a second to sink in, but when I registered it, it made me feel a wave of fear and sadness that I had done the wrong thing. I felt tears in my eyes, and my nose grew hot. My arms dropped. I wanted him to smile at me. I wanted him to be pleased with me. I hadn’t known not to beg. It only felt so good. And he had done it to me and enjoyed it, and I thought--
“Correct yourself. Try again,” he said.
The ray of hope that gave me was transformative. “Please, may I have dinner, captain,” I said. “I’m sorry, captain, I’m sorry, I’ll please captain.”
“Again, excessive,” he said, frowning, “but I supposed you just haven’t been trained yet. Gracious. I haven’t trained anyone new in years, and now I have three of you to contend with. This will take a while, even if you are ready.” He had been pulling at his cock the whole time he was speaking. “But bend forward, dog, and you will have dinner.”
I bent, and he put his cock into my mouth and shot cum down my throat. It was a little sweet and a little salty and had a slight battery aftertaste that I hadn’t liked, in cum, before. I liked it now. I lapped, like a dog,unable to remember other gestures. I swallowed with humming sounds that matched my happiness. I knew, too, that this wasn’t enough dinner. I was truly about to faint. But I pressed myself further down on his cock, wrapping my lips around my teeth so I wouldn’t hurt my captain, pressing his head to the back of my throat and then past it to the point where I couldn’t breathe and tears sprung in my eyes, as he shot his cum into my stomach.
He pulled my head back and made me lick him clean.
“You’ll get something more substantial, in the kitchen,” he said. “From Davis. He’ll take you back, and then he will fasten you in storage until we train you next.” He paused. “Storage may upset you again, but you’ll find it much more pleasurable to work after.” He scratched my head, which made me wiggle for him, and then pulled me unsteadily to my feet and fastened the crotch and ass of my jumpsuit closed again. I could feel my own precum and piss leak down my leg as I stood.
“I love you, Captain,” I said, unbidden, realizing I could move my tongue. It was the only thing I could think to say with it.
He made a mixture of a scowl and a smile. “Discipline is good for bitches. Don’t speak unless spoken to, dog.”
The cold pierce of shame, and sadness, and fear nearly made me fall over again.
“But I will love you too, I’m sure. You’ve made a very good impression.” He bent to kiss my face, and ran a hand down my front. “I will use you again, but first you must learn to operate the basic controls, and fish, and learn to serve the other boys.” He paused. “Oh dear. I suppose you’ll need to be in storage with your friends. I hope they won’t rattle your new state too much. I think I will need to go with them more slowly. But you came here to speak with me, and I had to attend to you first.” He was talking to himself now, I was sure, but I listened patiently, waiting for him to tell me what I was supposed to do next. I heard a sound behind me, and realized that Davis was climbing up from the ladder I had climbed through, earlier. He stepped forward.
“Captain,” Davis said.
“The new dog needs to be fed in a bowl on the floor and then kept in deprivation tonight, to settle its nerves,” the captain said.
“Sir,” Davis said.
“My life is a total secret,” the captain said to me, and gently kissed my face. “Nobody can know of my expedition, or it would be co-opted by outside interests. So I must keep everyone who comes in here, here. For good.”
I kind of laughed, happy that his eyes looked at mine so happily. My captain, I thought. My master.
“Welcome to the Nautilus.”
TWO
I knew I was in a cage, though I didn’t know any more whether anyone else was in the room with me or not. There was a blanket on the floor, and I was tired and wanted to go to sleep, but I also could not stop thinking about when my master or one of his boys would come to train me more. I wanted to be good. I knew I was supposed to sleep, but what would I do if I fell asleep and then I missed a command?
I had eaten on the floor in the kitchen, and the boys who had been immovable and unreadable smiled at me and petted my head. They did not speak to one another, and ate their food in almost complete silence, but they smiled at one another and me. And then the one named Davis had taken me to wash me and put me in this new outfit. And he’d taken me back to the room, and put me into this cage.
Every hour, or maybe every two hours, I felt the little prick in my neck that made everything warmer and fuzzier and happier. I could not sleep because I was so excited, but the prick in my neck made me sleepier and made it drowsy and pleasurable to lay where I was. I looked forward to it, rocking back and forth. When it receded, towards the end of whatever interval it was scheduled, I didn’t feel bad, but when the prick in my neck came I felt good, and safe, and loved. I felt ever more sure that this care was what I was always supposed to have gotten, and had never had before. My master was making sure I kept feeling so good throughout the night. I was so lucky to have come here. I could have never become a dog otherwise. I was so glad that someone was going to train me.
Jackie had made a noise some time ago, after the initial period where they spoke to me and each other and I could not really hear what they were saying. It was frustrating, not to be able to tell them that the captain was kind to me, that he had given me a new name. They sounded upset, from what little I could hear of their voices. I knew they did not want to stay. I hadn’t wanted to stay, either, but as master had said, there just wasn’t a choice. I hoped that someone would explain it to them soon, because I couldn’t talk, and I could not hear exactly what they were worried about. There was some kind of headphone fastened over my ears. It played white noise that sounded like the ocean.
My arms were fastened into the leather straitjacket, held folded and tight to my sides. It was comfortable, though it made it hard to sit up on my own. I lay face down on the blanket with my ass in the air. My hands were covered and held closed in mittens, and I could not move my fingers. The leather hood covered my face and eyes, leaving me blind; my mouth was held open by a large hoop of what felt like silicone. It was flexible enough that I could swallow and move my jaw, but I could not close my lips, and drool pooled at the edge of it, running down my chin. I liked the feeling. I could not see what kind of pants I was wearing, though I knew I was still wearing pants, with strange narrow boots on my feet that held them in an odd position. I felt two metal cocks held into my cunt and my ass by an immovable tight garment. Each time I moved-- rocked back or forward on my stomach, or tried to stretch to hear or feel for vibrations in the floor-- the shapes moved inside me. I was sore and dripping. My nipples felt more sensitive than I remembered them being before. They rubbed the inside of the leather straitjacket
I needed to pee, and I knew I probably wasn’t supposed to pee in my cage. That was something a bad dog would do. So I held it, and rocked.
I was so glad to have a master. I rocked back and forth, feeling the metal cocks inside me, making me drip more. I hoped that my master liked how my body was. I hoped he decided to give me more of his cum to drink. I knew I had to serve his boys too. I didn’t know what that would be like.
The longer I sat in the cage, the more dreamy and sleepy I felt. My bladder began to hurt because of how much I needed to pee. I started to wonder if I was supposed to pee. Not really supposed to, but maybe I was in here until I peed, and if I peed, then something new would happen. I wanted to see. But I got scared, too. What if I was supposed to hold it until someone came and got me? I had to follow instructions. I wasn’t sure when exactly I had realized this, but it had happened when my master was touching me at some point.
Suddenly, the white noise on my headphones stopped. I held my breath and stopped rocking. I couldn’t hear Jackie or Liz.
My master’s voice sounded. He sounded slow and relaxed and gentle. I couldn’t tell if it was a recording or if he was speaking to me. If he was speaking to me right now, was he looking at me?
“Puppy is dreaming and rocking and rubbing. Puppy is thinking of licking and sucking. Good puppy.”
I began to pant, and drool. I was thinking of licking and sucking. I wanted cocks in my mouth and I wanted these metal plugs out of my holes. I wanted real cocks there, ones that were warm. I wanted to please someone with how open and warm my holes were. Master. Was master watching me? Could he see my ass wiggle?
“Pretty puppy, all locked up. Puppy wants to please his master and his master’s boys. Puppy is a very special part of the ship. We love puppy. We love puppy’s cunt. It’s almost time for puppy to be useful. Puppy is sore and needy. That’s good.”
I wanted to be useful. I was good. Master thought I was good. He had been so nice to me. I wondered where my master was.
“Puppy has to piss. Puppy’s little bladder is so full. So full and hard to hold.”
It was hard to hold. How did he know?
“We’ll train you to hold it. Puppy’s special belt will give you shocks when you piss. The shocks will help train you. You won’t be in trouble if you piss, dog. We’ll just hurt you, and that will help you remember.”
I needed to pee. Master was saying it would hurt when I did. But master wanted me to hurt. But I was supposed to hold it. I began to feel confused and scared.
“This time, puppy, just try it out. Just try it out. It’s safe. Just piss. Let it all flow out of you. It’ll shock you, but that’ll make your master happy. Let it hurt. It’s good for puppy to learn. We love you, puppy. Just let it hurt. It makes me happy to watch you when you hurt.”
I felt calm again. I knew what to do now. I felt so glad that my master cared about me enough to tell me what to do. I let myself release my bladder, felt the warm piss start to flow hot and furiously down my legs. I must not have been wearing pants after all, or only shorts, because it began soaking the blanket underneath me.
I wasn’t done peeing when the first shock came, into my cunt and ass at once through the metal cocks. It was sharp and buzzing and hot, and it hurt. My body convulsed, and I let out a cry through my gag. My nerves felt on fire, my ass and cunt felt torn open and painful and hot. I tried to spread my legs, my cunt and ass tightened, trying to push the stinging shocks out of me, but they were held in, and my tightening holes held them in and made them hurt worse.
Over my headphones, my master began to laugh. It started as a low chuckle and became a breathless, glad, hysterical giggle.
“Oh, puppy, what a healthy good boy you are. You look so stupid and pretty when you twitch and scream from the shocks. Let it all out.”
I had stopped pissing, and the shocks had stopped. It would hurt again if I kept going. But I wanted to please him. I gasped with pain. I released, and the shocks came again, and this time I couldn’t bear it. But then as I was being shocked, the needles came into my neck again, and everything got warm and fuzzy. The pain receded and my brain calmed and I moaned. I was grateful to my master for making it easy and fun to get hurt for him.
“Now it’s time to serve the boys,” my master said. “Davis is coming to get you now.”
My master’s voice died away, and the white noise of ocean came back. A few warm, wavering, dizzy foggy minutes later, I felt the cage shake as someone unlocked it, and a hand reached in and grabbed my collar.
As Davis helped me out of the cage and stood me up, I realized that the shoes I was wearing had tall, tottering heels, and were angled in a way that made it hard to walk. Davis fastened a chain between them, so that I could only take little steps. He held my collar and walked me slowly into the hall, down the hall. I couldn’t see, and tripped several times. Each time, he caught me and held me. I liked Davis, I thought. He was nice.
We went somewhere in a direction I didn’t understand, and then I heard a door opening through the fog of white noise. I couldn’t hear what was happening exactly, but men’s voices were talking here, and laughing. I heard the word dog and puppy, and got excited. They were talking about me. I was pushed to my knees, and then two warm fingers went into my mouth.
My master’s voice came through my headphones again.
“It’s a dog’s job to suck all the boys’ cocks when they need you to,” he said. “You love cum, puppy. It’s your favorite treat. It’s such a treat to get to suck my boys’ nice cocks. Be very good for me and I’ll unlock your holes later and play with you.”
White noise.
Master wasn’t here, but I could still be good for him. I drooled and moaned, and the fingers in my mouth struck deeper into my throat. My nipples were hard inside the sweaty straitjacket, and I wanted to see what was happening, but I couldn’t. The metal cocks inside me still rubbed whenever I moved, and it was hard to hold them in. I worried that when my master took them out, the one in my ass would be dirty. I hadn’t been cleaned out down there.
A cock was thrust through my gag into my mouth.
I liked it immediately. It tasted so good, filled my mouth so perfectly through the silicon hoop that held my mouth open. My nose was blocked by my hood, so I could only breathe when the cock exited my mouth, and that felt good. It was good for my breath to be controlled by the boys. The cock--I had no way of knowing whose-- was large, and thick, and salty, and the person it belonged to held my head and fucked me gently at first and then harder and harder, pounding into my esophagus until his whole length was in, drawing back just enough to allow me to gasp every thirty or forty seconds, drool and precum dripping down my chin. I choked. I choked. I spat around the cock so more of it could fit in me.
Master’s voice came back.
“Good boy. Good boy. Good boy. Swallow when he shoots.”
The first cock came down my throat; I was not sure how many minutes it had been. And then another, and another. Each boy had slightly different hands on my head, a slightly different cock, longer or shorter or thicker or thinner, tapered or with a fat head. I liked the ones with fat heads best; they stuffed my throat but allowed me enough room to breathe around them as they drew out. I liked the thickest cocks less, but I felt that I would be trained and in time would love those best. The boys did not touch my body at all; they only put their cocks in my mouth, fucked my mouth, and stopped. My holes ached and dripped. I wanted them to be inside me too, but the metal cock was all that was there. I coughed, unable to take more. My master laughed, and laughed, and laughed, and called me good boy. I was sure it wasn’t a recording. I was sure he was watching.
Davis came in me last.I had swallowed cum from five or six cocks. I could tell it was him by his hands. Then he pissed in my mouth and made me drink it all, holding my mouth to him. I didn’t resist. Then he turned me again. I expected another hard cock, but instead-- more piss. I drank, but I had no choice. The silicone gag held my mouth open for whatever went inside. I knew better than to spit.
Finally, Davis made me stand again, and led me back through multidirectional hallways and into my room again. I went back into the cage with the wet blanket that smelled like piss. He did not remove my hood or clean me, or remove the metal cocks inside me, which now hurt more for having been in me longer. I lay down, and the injection in my neck pricked again, and I slept hard and deep, feeling fuzzy and lonely and desperate for my master.
The next time I woke up inside my hood, it may have been morning, but it had also seemed almost like morning before. I woke because very light shocks were coming through my cunt through the metal cock in me there. They weren’t as painful as the shocks that had come before, when I had peed myself. These, I knew, were just to tell me to wake up.
The white noise in my headphones died out, and my master’s voice came back.
“Hello, dog. I trust you have had a fine first night. Be a good dog for me now. You’re going to meet my daughters. They are also your masters, you know.”
I lay there, cocks inside me, drooling and messy and smelly and aching for my master. He was coming to fetch me. I would meet his daughters. The white noise didn’t come back, and I strained for any sound in the room. It had been a while since I had felt the prick in my neck, but I still felt dreamy and weak and drippy. I wanted my master to touch me and to show me to his daughters. I was his dog. I would be introduced as his dog. That made me happy.
After what felt like forever, I heard the door to the cabin open.
“All right, girls,” my master’s voice said. “Here’s your new puppy. His name is just Dog, for now. I think we should choose another as a family, but we need to think about it first.”
Jackie’s voice sounded first. She sounded more relaxed and happier than I had ever heard her.
“Oh, Dad. He’s so cute.”
Jackie was my master’s daughter?
There was the noise of feet coming over to the cage.
“You can play with him while I’m doing grown up things. Liz, come over here and say hello. He’s not dangerous. He’s very good.”
“He’s all tied up,” Liz’s voice said. She sounded soft and babyish. I had always heard the edges of a lisp around her speech, and now there was more of one.
“We’ve been training him on how to be a good dog.” My master’s hand touched my head. It was the first time he had touched me since making me his dog, and I shivered. I wanted him to touch me so much more. “I think it’s time for both of you to learn how to care for our dog and train him a little, and then I’ll take him on a walk.”
He took hold of my collar and pulled me up.