Ice Maiden 1

This is a story about a young Eskimo mother, Umaiapik

Umaiapik gasped with a last burst of exertion, chest heaving, pumping her legs hard to crest the little rise, and then a bit more so that the heavy reluctantly following sledge reached the loamy crest. Perched now in the sun, the rest of the short journey from the glacier would be little easier, pulling the runners across grass and shale, even though it would be a somewhat downhill. For a moment though, rest. Puffing clouds of steam in the crystalline spring air, Umi reflected that it was only crisp, not icy, and that the wind merely whispered in the fur lining of the parka hood, outlining her face. In fact, with all this work, and the sun now well on the rise, it was going to get downright hot today, maybe 50! The kids would want to swim in the river, and their mothers would scold them and warn of currents and hungry bears downstream.

"Haha!" a burst of laughter escaped as Umi thought of herself, now 19 with a young boy of her own, no longer a child and she'd swim if she wanted, even if it was a bad example to all the others: maybe all the way out to that island in the little bay. "That would frost my legs shut!" she thought: some 200 yards off, it would be an icy proposition. Eddie hated to swim, but if he saw her body spread open, warming her cunt back up in the sunshine on that rock over there, he'd manage the trip quick enough, she thought smugly to herself...

But first, work. The old women would look the other way, ignoring some harmless sex play, and would even allow her to encourage the younger kids to learn to handle the river, but slacking off in her housekeeping duties would earn scorn, and Eddy would feel the ridicule and punish her. Well, no, he wouldn't. He'd be ashamed of her but never strike her or even yell, and that forebearance might even hurt worse. Sometimes being married to the modern young man was exhilarating, sometimes worrisome. Umi'd been raised old fashioned, but loved Eddie and the books he brought her and the way he treated her...

...and their family, she remembered as her 11 month old took a playful bite at her nipple. Old enough to walk, but this close to the river, and with everyone else busy working to set up their summer camp, it was just easier to take him along on the trips, stuffed in her parka, than to worry about him, or make him a burden for someone else like oma who needed to rest anyway. Umi sat down and unlaced a bit more of her shirt so the boy could have his lunch. He was almost weaned now, but to discourage him, then feed him something solid would take more time and not be half as pleasant as sitting here in the sun nursing for a half an hour. She turned herself so the sun could feel her chest, and enjoyed the combination of the cold breeze, the sun's warm rays, and little Kaynok's hand, playing idly with her other nipple. "Mmmhmmm, Eddie could learn something from that," she thought happily to herself, "but at least he knows not to bite too hard." Umi cut herself a piece of caribou sausage and had her own early lunch.

A little later, she packed the boy back down against her belly, laced back up, and towed the sledge the rest of the way down to the pile of snow blocks accumulating in the shady pit dug behind a cedar tree. When summer hit full swing next month, this igloo would be their refrigerator, storing the mountain of fish the men would catch while they smoked or salted more for the coming winter. After living in an igloo all winter up north on the icepack, Umi was glad this was the only one she'd see all summer. Close to the river on a grassy bank next to some aspens and a growing mountain of firewood, they had erected a snug yurt, made from willow branches and sealskin: it was windproof, warm and spacious for the five of them: herself, Eddie, Kaynok, ancient Oma (50!) and Jankush, her sort-of father in-law.

Eddie's real father had been killed fishing when the boy was still a child, and as a young man, Jankush had adopted the little family lest they starve, though Oma was 15 years his senior, and he could have had almost any girl, or become chief, even. They called him Opa from tradition, thought it was almost silly for a man so young. It was a strong, whole happy family and a credit to the tribe. Umaiapik was proud of herself, and her contribution to the little village. Because she was so strong and fast, and old Oma still could work too, the yurt was up already and Umi could work on the food cache. Umi thought she might drink and smoke a little with the men tonight if they got back: she'd have earned it, and that was one perk of marrying the modern boy: she could sit in the sweat lodge and stare down their grumblings and know she'd not get a cuff or even a sharp look from her Eddie. The fact that they'd enjoy watching sweat bead and drip from her breasts, or enjoy her belly shaking with a laugh as she sat cross legged (so they all could see what Eddie got) helped a little, too. Only the old men or the terminally un-marriageable really wanted to keep the women out of their little club anymore. Yes, it would be a good night.

She dropped Kaynok off with Oma, and stopped by her friend Sashi's tent just as the other girl finished the last of the lashings.

"Come fetch ice with me?" asked Umi. Sashi and her brother Sorkai had an extra dog, and lashing that monster to the sledge would make short work of the hauling, at the cost of a couple of fish they could easily spare now. (The rest of the dogs were off with the men, finishing a last few days of sealing off to the west. If the seals held out, the men would stay for as long as weeks, but as soon as the seals left, the men would be back, maybe today, to start a summer of fishing, kayak building and carousing. Summer was a wonderful, easy season for everyone and Umi was eager to get started. Maybe today would be the day. Who knows, with luck maybe tonight she'd get started on a little daughter for Kaynok to play with!

Sashi was available and came along happily on the hike to the glacier. The girls brought Kayak (Sashi's big friendly sled dog) and their ice knives, broad machete-like blades but broader, nearly 6" thick and a foot long, they could be used to hack compressed snow into blocks or spade through softer stuff. Sashi wore a scandalous leather vest and pants laced up on the sides with no fur lining and nothing else but her pack. When Umi queried about the cold at the glacier, Sashi pointed to her parka, stuffed in the pack.

"Just 'till we clear the camp," she said. "Some boys might look, and I want to make sure they get to see something if they do!"

"Right again, Sashi!" gigled Umi, loosening another lace and tightening the one below it so her breasts were all but thrust into the wind. "Shall we walk past the fishpens then?" (Boys were working over there making traps in the shallows that, later, would hold live fish.)

Sashi was classically rounded and her brown ass looked good under the caribou hide trousers she had laced up too tightly. Those pants were too small to be serviceable next winter, but they'd gradually provide ever more provocative "cover" throught the summer as Sashi slowly stitched up their tears (or not), and filled them out better and better. Already the lacings on either flank showed an inch and a half of skin from waist to calf , more at mid thigh and hip where this year's growing muscles demanded more space. She was 17 and hoping for a husband this summer, possibly, or at least trying out a few dicks, for practice.

Sashi knew which ones, too. "You can't know the size without the suction!" she liked to say, and she pretty much knew all the sizes. Several boys could hardly wait to give her a test drive, and several more were gonna get enlightening lectures from their eager mothers before spring was over. Besides the bod, Sashi could pull a sledge and build a yurt with the best of them, so she was a "catch." She was a great friend to me too, had long been my partner in breaking the cultural ice of the sweat lodge. We pretty much shared everything, and the boys knew it! They were all a little jealous of Eddie, too since being married cut down on MY extracurricular activities pretty substantially. Oh, I could still be a tease, and women are pretty much community property in the tribes, but having sex with somebody else besides your husband was frowned on: we take the idea of bloodline pretty seriously: just a generation ago, bastards could get left on the ice, with their moms! The occasional blow job though, that was another matter: that's just a woman's way keeping the tribe on an even keel, and herself out of trouble. Anyway, I've dodged a lot of trouble that way.

By late afternoon when the chill came back to the air, the girls had made 5 trips, and unloaded hundreds of pounds of hard packed glacial rime: soft for ice but far harder than ordinary snow blocks.

During the last haul, the men had come back! Already they'd unleashed the dogs for a romp and both men and dogs were tearing around the camp raising hell. Just 4 more seals lay piled in a corner of the pit where tomorrow there would be an igloo, too few to worry about beginning tonight: tonight there would be a party! Older men were already hauling firewood to the smoke tent, and a whole caribou haunch had been set to simmer over a pit barbecue: venison for dinner! No wine though. Their provisions, their whole lives, had to move back and forth with the seasons. Dogs, human labor and the occasional snowmobile had to provide the transport so nothing wasteful like wine could be tolerated. Marijuana up from south Korea and straight alcohol (so much more efficient to pack!) would be shared from carefully hoarded caches though, and there would be so much meat you could get high on food alone! Already there was giggling from some of the Yurts, whose doors stood lashed uncharacteristically closed in the relatively warm spring air.

Umi and Sashi dumped their sledge full of ice on top of the seals, and headed towards the center of camp, pulling off parkas as they approached the central fire. Sashi's brother Sorkai was over by their yurt, bare chested, smashing something in a leather bucked. Like everything he did, he was going at it hard, like a big leather machine. Sashi was short but broad, his chest seemed a mile across with heavy pectorals so big his nipples pointed down. Umi imagined licking snowflakes off that muscle, wondered if his ass was a smooth and hairless as his chest, if the muscle of it would flicker as fast if he hammered his penis into her the way he was hammering the...

"Raspberries, little sister?" Sorkai called, pausing from his incessant pounding to scoop out a collapsible leather cup of red slush from the leather pot and offer it to Sashi, fending off his now exuberant dog with a well placed knee to the body. The thought of "incessant pounding" was still giving me ideas I shouldn't be having.

"Do you like some raspberries, Umaiapik?" With a big evil grin of his 100 Watt teeth, Sorkai handed me the ladle full of granita to sip from, since he didn't have another cup. Tipping my head back to drink from the awkward wooden implement I realized too late what was coming, and choking on the strong burn of everclear mixed into the drink and my own laughter as Sorkai planted his face and a big raspberry kiss as deep into my cleavage as he could get. And he got pretty far.

For my part I used the excuse or opportunity to finish the drink, allowing myself only one hand to fend him off. I fought as hard as I could though, since that was part of the fun and he was 10 times stronger than me anyway. He got my shirt half ripped open with one swipe of his chin so that my boob popped out, and his mouth was so big he got most of me in it. Finally he gave my nipple one big raspy alcohol flavored lick as he withdrew, mumbling "ungrateful ice maiden..." in jest while I pounded ineffectually on his flank with one little fist.

"So you didn't like it then?" he asked with mock contrition, backing away at last while I tried to put myself away with one hand.

I returned the ladle by smacking it hard into his chest and then licking him back, taking the red juice off his sternum: "Good raspberries, Sorki." (lick,) "...too bad" (lick, lower now, got most of it). "there's not more!" And I gave him a final slow lick, starting from just above his belly button. I looked up, ran my tongue along my lower lip and smiled. Sorkai was kinda frozen. I'm sure he remembered this exact expression and posture from his first blowjob, and mine, a couple years back.

"Arrrgh! You damn girls go on an' tease someone else, I got work to do." he said, pushing me away a little too gently, and shaking the ladle ludicrously, a 250lb half naked betty crocker in leather pants, with a rivulet of raspberry liqueur trickling down towards his cock.

"Better wipe that up, or you'll get sticky," was the best retort I could come up with, and I spun and sashayed off, more or less the victor.

We walked over to pay our respects to the senior men, who were lackadaisically flensing one seal for tonight.. There was nothing formal here, but they'd been gone and a ritual greeting was appropriate. Sashi inquired politely about the hunt, and I grinned sheepishly at Eddie who stood up from working to see me. I only got half a hug, because he was up to his elbows in blood. For her work hauling the ice, Sashi got thanks and a pat on the butt from Narok, the chief, which earned him a friendly cuff from his wife.

Feigning jealousy, I offered my otterhide-covered backside dramatically for a slap too, but Narok just grinned and said, "Eddie's right over there, he'll take care of that for you! I am the Chief and would never touch such a skinny little ass!" Everyone laughed and so I flounced back over to him and received the slap which ended with a squeeze that almost tore my butt OFF and would definitely leave a bruise as well as a permanent burgundy handprint on my pants. I'd have to remember not to sit down for a while, so it would dry in without getting smudged: the thought of going around in pants with Eddies's big paw print on the ass sounded real good to me -- like property or something, which in lots of ways, I am.

By the time the sun dipped below the western hills, the party was going into full swing. Everyone was glad to have the men back, and no one had been hurt, spring was coming, there was plenty of food, boys to tease, pregnant women to enjoy, "secret" fishing techniques to discuss. It was hard for Umi to imagine a better time in life as she followed Eddie around while he said his hellos and generally figured out how things stood at the camp. Soon people started finishing off whatever chore they were working on and started gravitating over to the fire and the delicious smells. Old Peeklok was telling a kids story, meaning one with old traditions and some heavy message at the end. Later he'd tell more lusty tales designed to inspire the whole tribe to "initiate" the summer right. Before long there was eating and dancing all around.

The moon rose and the hot-yurt, the camp's biggest tent, was smoking invitingly. Various herbs and wet flowers were thrown on a banked fire, making the whole camp smell good, and the tent steamy and almost impossible to see, much less breathe in. Men were drifting over there, carrying a favorite stone to worry, or more often a small bottle or something to smoke. One by one they'd disrobe at the tent flap, walk quietly to the river, submerge for as long as possible (not too long, in this water!) and then try not to run like eager children back to the warmth of the tent. Sashi and I waited until most of the men were inside, then got up and walked over. Another couple of women saw us and came along too, but one young girl lost her nerve and backed down when Sashi and I began to slowly undress and wriggle out of our hides right by the entrance. I made sure to fold my pants so the bloodstain was flat and on top: it was almost dry. Chatting, we walked down to a deep eddy in the river, where a few more boys were standing around, working up the courage to jump in. It was tradition, and politeness to show up squeaky clean, and it made the yurt seem hotter too, but that tradition didn't make it any easier to jump in a frozen river after the sun went down! Wading out until the water came up just to my hips, I gave Sahsi a shaky thumbs up, pinched my nose with the other hand, and submerged into water that was ice yesterday! In no time at all we couldn't take it any more, and burst to the surface, nipples hard, gooseflesh everywhere. Sashi was done too: we ran back to the tent laughing like girls.

Some boys cleared a spot near the fire in the second row for us, and we sat across from old Yahna, who was the first to break into this circle 4 years ago, and earned a spot front and center for it. Yahna wore a modest loin cloth in front, but Sashi and I didn't, and I had shaved carefully (a real chore!) and felt doubly naked for that. It was excellent! At first the men were a lttle cranky about this intrusion to their sweat lodge, but it had developed that they really just didn't want it to be made light of, not that they were opposed to women in the sweat-yurt as a matter of principle. They talked slowly, and about serious business like long term fishing prospects and how the tribe's youngsters were growing up, and whether dogs or snowmobiles made more sense. Dogs won since they were useful in summer as well as winter and self-feeding in a pinch. Nobody even brought up that they're cuddly, or loyalty, or anything else that distinguishes a companion from a machine: silly men. One did bring up "warm in a pinch" but then they laughed and dismissed that because they "have women and they're already warm." (!!)

That caused a couple of embarrassed glances our way and I loved the titillating feeling. Sorkia pushed it too far, though, coming back with "only warm if you're hard" and earned a snort of derision from the Chief and no other response and another round of laughter. Somebody lit up and the night was underway.

The conversation turned in all directions after that, but several of the young guys were hard and trying to be nonchalant about it, or not, as their personalities led them. I pretended embarrassment at Sorki's comment, but soon thereafter found it "necessary" to stretch my back which I accomplished by reaching my hands overhead and twisting. This earned me a twitch or two from the sprouting garden of mushrooms glistening darkly here and there in the room, and best of all gave me a chance to brush my nipples across old Jankush's arm as he sat next to me. He started a bit, but did not lean away so that when I twisted back to a forward position, I swiped his bicep again. Pretty sure he liked it and I know I did. I felt a little bad toying with the man in this serious place, but it was just too fun, and I was excited to start summer. Jan's cock was one of the hard ones and he was studiously ignoring it. Now, you must understand that nudity is nothing special in our culture: travelling all the time in close quarters, we just don't have the luxury of prudishness so seeing a naked man is commonplace. Anyone would strip down if his clothes needed washing, or for dirty work on a hot day. Same for us.

I remember particularly chatting with a few boys a couple of years ago. They were taking turns splitting wood and talking about frying fish (we had just arrived at camp, and had no catch yet and everyone was practically salivating our loud, thinking about fresh salmon) and we just chatted while they chopped away. One of the boys was Eddie. I remember a casual fascination with the way their penises would fly around when they swung the two-handed axe. I've got a freeze-frame images in my mind, of Eddie's long wiry body twisting up to the end of the axe, sweaty hair frozen in flight, lines of muscle in his trunk and legs standing out like he's pulling hard on the axe, like it's trying to fly away into the sky. He almost sneering down his nose at the log trying to focus on where the blow would fall. It was a beautiful moment, commonplace in our lives and part of what's great about being Eskimo.