The Catch

This story takes place roughly 200 years before The Chase.
If it wasn't for bad luck, Rye Mash would have no luck at all. As a foal, he was taken during one of the infamous sweeps of the Shetland Isles. Now, as a young colt, he is an indentured servant, forced to spend the rest of his life working for his master, a unicorn named Lace Collar, so he can pay off the bill for his education.
However, Rye Mash's bad luck ends up being Lace Collar's bad luck as well, and both of them end up as prisoners of the infamous sky pirates and their dreadful leader, Captain Spyglass, the mass murdering lunatic that is feared the whole world over.


31. Chapter 31

Shivering, Rye Mash opened his eyes. He had been dreaming, but he could not remember what he had been dreaming about. He was cold, the air was chilly and he was sweating. He was in the top half of the bed, curled up, and Mousy was down at the foot of the bed, also curled up. She had stolen the blanket at some point in the night, made a nest, and was now asleep on top of it.

For a moment, Rye Mash thought about cuddling up next to her so he could get warm. She was his wife now, it was supposed to be okay to do that sort of thing, but he didn’t feel comfortable about it for some reason.

His new cabin was smaller, narrower, a space made just for him and Mousy. The interiour of The Apogee had been changed a fair bit to make it a bit more efficient as a living space. There was a folding table on the wall, the bed, and one comfortable chair in the corner. The room smelled of fresh cut wood, glue, and of Mousy’s perfume.

Haunted by the eyes he had seen in the pool, Rye got out of bed, being careful not to disturb or wake Mousy from her sleep. He slipped away, making as little sound as possible, opened the door, stepped outside into the hallway, and decided that he needed some fresh night air.



Emerging up on deck, Rye Mash saw that he wasn’t alone. Starjammer was sitting in the prow of the ship, staring off towards the starry horizon, the wind blowing his long, perfect mane around his face. Sniffing, Rye could smell whiskey, the strong heady scent of whiskey, and he felt his stomach turn just a little bit.

With the soft thump of his hooves striking the wooden deck, Rye walked forwards, glad to have somepony else awake at this time of night. He felt apprehensive, nervous, he did not know why. He wondered why Starjammer was drinking. Was it thirst? Was he drowning his sorrows? What was he sad about? Had Celestia said something? Rye even wondered if Starjammer was pining for him for whatever reason.

He felt very, very confused. Starjammer was more than a friend now, just like Mousy was more than an acquaintance. He and Starjammer had done a bit more than just share a confusing kiss. Rye did not know what was expected from him. He did not understand how their relationship had changed after what had happened.

At that moment, Rye wanted to run away, not wanting to face the consequences or the changes that were sure to happen, but he found himself continuing towards Starjammer, as if drawn forward by some powerful invisible force.

“Can’t sleep?” Rye asked in a low voice, his ears perking as he heard the creaking of the ships around him.

“Woe Betide had a nightmare,” Starjammer replied in a rather put out voice, “and I was tossed from Bloody Velvet’s warm bed.”

Standing there, Rye marveled at the sound of Starjammer’s voice. It wasn’t often that he said much. Starjammer sounded a bit tipsy, a bit angry, a bit sad, he sounded as though he was going to be a drunken mess soon enough.

“Can’t be mad at Woe.” Starjammer shook his head, his mane clinging to his cheeks, and then he took a long pull from the bottle of whiskey he was holding. “Or Velvet for that matter.”

After scooting a little closer, Rye Mash sat down beside Starjammer, still not understanding their relationship, if they were friends, or how he should act. He watched Starjammer take another drink and Rye felt a stabbing sensation inside of his skull. He planned to stick with tea from here on out.

“What did Princess Celestia talk to you about?” Rye asked, overcome by his own curiousity. He watched as Starjammer took another drink. He sat there, waiting for a reply, listening to the sounds of the faint crackle of the storm contained inside of the gasbag overhead. Soft ticking, the creaking of wood, and the wet slap of ocean waves down below. The salty smell of the ocean clung to his nostrils. The sharp smell of the whiskey filled Rye with a sense of regret. Rye’s senses were almost overwhelmed by everything.

Starjammer said nothing and Rye felt both annoyed and worried. “Is it so hard to talk to me?” He reached out his hoof and prodded Starjammer in the side. “I don’t get you, sometimes. Why can’t you just talk to me?”

“It’s so hard to know what to say, sometimes,” Starjammer replied. The unicorn took another pull on his whiskey bottle, belched, grimaced, and then turned his head to look Rye in the eye. “Princess Celestia and I talked for a while. Idle chit chat. She talked, I listened. Then we talked about you. She wanted to know what sort of pony I thought you were. I told her that you are a capable, clever, cunning, cutthroat killer… it’s the cutie mark, Rye… there is only so much a pony can do with two pistols as a cutie mark.”

Stunned, Rye sat there, blinking, shocked that Starjammer had said so much.

“She wanted her student safe… that’s what it all comes down to,” Starjammer continued, closing his eyes, and swaying from side to side. “She was worried if any of us might do something untoward with her student.”

“I see.” Rye watched as Starjammer’s eyes opened.

“I require a very specific type,” Starjammer said, his voice somewhat slurred. “I am the proverbial damsel in distress. I am very feminine. Ever since I was very, very small, I have wanted to be a filly. I’m in the wrong body, you see. I require a very specific type.” Starjammer took another long drink from the bottle, belched again, and wiped his muzzle with his foreleg.

Rye Mash wondered what sort of hangover Starjammer was going to have.

“I like Bloody Velvet because she is very masculine. She takes charge. She is very domineering and commanding and she puts me in my place. I can relax my guard a little bit and be myself and I can be pretty.” Starjammer paused, blinking, batting his eyelashes. “I can be the damsel in distress and Bloody Velvet will oblige me. She knows what to do with damsels in distress. She paddles them, she spanks them, and she punishes them for being weak willed spineless silly fillies… and I like it.”

Shocked, Rye tried not to imagine what Starjammer was describing, but it was too late. He had a vivid mental image of Bloody Velvet working Starjammer over, dominating him, cowing him, and berating him for being an effeminate milksop. He also had a disturbing mental image of Starjammer enjoying it.

“You rescued Woe Betide… you rescued a damsel in distress. You didn’t have to do it, I even encouraged you to walk away from the whole mess. But you did it. You rescued a filly in distress and you were the perfect gentlepony about it.” Starjammer shook his head and set his whiskey bottle down on the deck in front of him. “That’s not how you rescue a damsel, Rye… you are supposed to rescue a damsel and then rut them silly… that’s the fantasy. You rescued Mousy too. Another damsel. You, you’re the damsel rescuing type, and me, I’m a damsel. I’m the bad little filly that can’t stay out of trouble and wants to be foalnapped, because I want the bad guy to do bad things to me and then I want my rescuer to do even worse things to me. I can only cum when I’m held down and roughed up.”

“And now, I am going off to rescue another damsel,” Rye said.

Starjammer nodded, lifted up his bottle of whiskey, and then chugged down the rest of the contents. He blinked a few times at Rye, giving the unicorn beside him a drunken stare, and then leaned closer to Rye. “You make me feel like a dirty, dirty mare. You make me wish that I had mare parts for you to stretch out and abuse.” Starjammer let out a sour smelling belch right in Rye’s face, hiccuped once, gave Rye one very sloppy, slobbery, loose lipped drunken kiss, pulled away, rose, and then Starjammer sauntered away, leaving behind one very flustered Rye.

“Starjammer, wait,” Rye said as his friend walked away. “You could come to bed with Mousy and I if you don’t want to be alone. I don’t think she’d mind.”

“Nope,” Starjammer replied, shaking his head. “You’d try to shag me gently, out of pity, and that’d ruin our relationship. I’d ruin our relationship. I get angry when I can’t cum.”

Not knowing how to reply, Rye watched as Starjammer disappeared belowdecks, leaving him all alone with nothing but the stars for company. Shivering, confused, Rye decided to go back to bed, even if it meant waking up Mousy to get his blanket back.



“I’m sorry,” Mousy whispered into Rye’s ear as she snuggled up beside him. “But you know, if you had just cuddled with me when we got into bed, I might not have stole your blanket.”

Some of Rye’s shivers became quivers as Mousy moved against him. She was touching, him, rubbing him with her legs, he could feel the heat of her belly against his hip and his thigh. He could feel other things too. Soft things that were quite warm against his cold flesh. He thought about Starjammer, feeling confused, not knowing how to react to everything he had just heard. He felt confused, overwhelmed, his mind was full of far too many thoughts to deal with.

He snuggled up a bit closer to Mousy beneath the blanket that they both now shared, glad to have another pony in his bed with him, even if the bed was too narrow and space was cramped. He could feel her breathing, he could feel her body moving against him. While it was just a little arousing, it was more comforting than anything else.

“Is something wrong?” Mousy asked.

“Yeah,” Rye replied, breathing out the word.

“Up for a little pillow talk?” Mousy slid her hoof down Rye’s barrel and over his stomach, coming to stop over his navel.

“This whole thing with Princess Celestia has me scared. Starjammer just gave me an earful. I just found out something horrible about my friend, Velvet.” Rye paused for a moment as Mousy’s hoof traced a circle over his stomach, causing tingles to rush up and down his spine. “There is a lot going on.”

“It’s exciting… I get to have an adventure… this is going to be great.” Mousy took a deep breath, sighed, and then nuzzled her muzzle along Rye’s neck. “I like this… just this. This is nice.”

Rye had to admit, this was nice. The feeling of somepony close. A warm body in the bed. He could get used to this. “Mousy, about us… where does Starjammer fit in with us?” He heard Mousy inhale and he felt her barrel swelling beside him.

“I’m a selfish little bint, I am. If I ever catch you with another mare and I don’t know about it, I’ll geld ya while you’re sleeping.” Mousy continued to nuzzle Rye’s neck as she spoke. “Now, with Starjammer, that’s different. I don’t mind sharing you with him. Or maybe even another mare, if I like her enough. Just don’t ever try to hide it. Don’t be a bastard about it and I won’t go off and cheat on you.”

“That seems fair,” Rye replied. “Mousy, if you haven’t noticed, I’m a bit uptight.”

“I know.” Mousy’s hoof slid lower down Rye’s belly and she giggled as Rye tensed.

Squirming, Rye felt Mousy giving him a teasing tickle. “I have no plans to cheat on you, I’ll be honest… but Starjammer… he’s… I don’t know—”

“You like him. That’s fine. I like watching. You were so… rough with him. It gave me the shivers. Rough but gentle.” Mousy took a deep breath. “You didn’t really hurt him. I was surprised about that. He’s a bit of a confused sort, ain’t he?”

“He is… I like him a lot… but I can’t make sense of him. He says he wants to be a mare. Why would a stallion want to be a mare?” Rye’s whole body trembled as Mousy’s fetlock slid back and forth over the soft, wrinkled flesh of his scrotum.

“I don’t know,” Mousy replied, “But you made him feel like a mare, and I suppose that’s important to him.” Mousy yawned and squeezed Rye’s leg between her thighs. “Get some sleep, Rye. We’re probably going to have a long day tomorrow…”





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