The Frigid Wastes

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"Sil'neye, slozhneye! Trakhni menya, kak viy eto imeyete ve vidu, stad!"

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"O, da! Bol'she! Bol'she! Trakhni menya, kak budto ty menya nenavidish!"

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Mark had been putting up with the same bullshit for almost an hour, the same creaky suspension, the same passionate Slavic shouting, the same noises that had been keeping him from sleep for the past two weeks. Yana didn't seem to notice, however; the big bear was lightly snoring soundly underneath the human, letting him rest on top of her furry bulk while she draped her muscular arm over his back. Maybe she was used to the sound of her parents fucking like rabbits...

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"Okh, blin, da! Prodolzhay! Ya khochu, chtoby eta amerikanskaya shpionskaya suka slyshala nas vsyu noch naprolet!"

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As a last-ditch effort, Mark stuck his head between Yana's furry breasts and pressed them to either side of his head, trying his damndest to keep out that goddamn creaking. With soft tits against his ears, it was slightly less grating, but it was still there, like a gnat buzzing in his ear. "God fucking damnit!" he screamed into Yana's fluffy chest, "Can't they give it a fucking rest?"

"Ty dumayesh' on smotrit? EY, AMERIKANSKAYA SHPIONKA, YA TEBYA VIZHU!"

"Grrrrrrrrr..." They were doing this on purpose, they had to be. He knew enough to recognize being called amerikansky, and he also knew that momma bear had a hard-on for making him miserable after catching him being a peeping tom. He wasn't sure if it got on his nerves more or less because of it being intentional, but either way, it was still irritating as hell.

"Ey, bud milym! Derzhu pari, on delayet nashu doch- mrrrrrrg... ochen schastlivoy."

To his surprise, living with the polar bear tribe had been surprisingly pleasant. Most of the time, he either had his winter gear or the safety of the wagon to keep him warm, and Yana always provided good company when she was home. They'd brought back most of the stuff from his van, which was now lying about the wagon intermixed with Yana's belongings. Most important of those things was his camera, his outlet converter set, and his spare SD cards; the wagons all had Russian-style power outlets, and with the free charging, he'd managed to fill a card with pictures of the polar bear tribe's daily activities. It would probably make him famous when he got back to the states... if he ever got back to the states...

However, right then, the thought of going home was on the back burner, and the primary thought on his mind was whether or not to suit up and tell Yana's mom to knock it off. On the one hand, it would be nice to sleep in peace for once, but on the other, Yana's mom could quite literally snap him in half. Decisions, decisions...

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"YA, KONCHAYU! Konchayu! Ahhhhh, blyad!" He finally recognized the sound of the bears finishing up, and relaxed against Yana with a sigh of relief. Finally, it was over... he could sleep in peace and get- "Davay, poydem dvoye na dvoikh!"

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Mark let out a bestial growl, then pressed his face into Yana's chest fur and screamed, "Goddamnit!"

The human didn't know when he finally fell asleep, all he knew was that it wasn't enough. He was roused from slumber by a firm shake on the shoulder, followed by a familiar gruff voice saying, "Wake up, krolik, we have chore."

"Mrrrrrrgh... I don't wanna do chores." Mark curled up into a ball, disappointed that his giant fluffy teddy bear was gone. "Just... five more minutes."

"No, krolik, we go now!" Yana grabbed him by the arm and firmly hauled him to his feet, after which he simply flopped back onto the mattress. The second time, the bear scooped him up and roughly shook him, scattering any thoughts of sleep from his mind. "Look, zanudnyy, you put on coat, or I throw you in snow."

"Fine, fine, just... give me a minute." Yana released him from the bearhug, and he slowly began the arduous task of getting geared up for the snow. There was his underwear, his t-shirt, his sweatpants, his sweater, his socks, his snow pants, his scarf, his gloves, his coat, and finally, his heavy snow boots. "There, you happy?"

"Da." While Mark had been getting suited up, Yana had taken all of thirty seconds to put her own clothes on, and once he was ready to go, she grabbed her scrap-greatsword before heading out into the snow. Mark quickly followed her out and closed the door behind them, and once they were out in the snow, the human was greeted by the sight of a bustling village. Polar bears of various statures went about their daily chores, curing meat or carrying wood, and none of them looked twice at the human stomping through the snow. Yana first went over to another of the wagons where a pair of bears were building simple spears, and once she'd grabbed the shortest one they had, she came back over and tossed it to her mate. "We go on hunting trip," she said, "Get meat for tribe."

Mark nervously clutched his spear as he tried to imagine what that would entail. Would it be ice fishing? He'd tried that once... didn't really end well, though. "Don't you have designated hunters?" he asked, "I mean, the chief shouldn't have to kill her own food, right?"

Yana chuckled at the human's naivety, slightly shaking her head. "Da, krolik, but I want to see what you do." As they walked up toward the gate, the bear exchanged a few words with the guard, who quickly deactivated the gate's massive spike trap. "We hunt lion of sea," she continued, "It not too hard... maybe you hunt for once, eh?" She nudged him playfully, chuckling as they stepped out into the barren tundra, but Mark's mind was more concerned than excited. Didn't sea lions weigh almost a ton? How were they going to get it back to camp? Was Yana just going to carry it?

"So... how do you hunt sea lions?" the human asked, "Do you dive for them, or..."

"No, you cut hole in ice, then stab it when it comes up. Is easy, even you could do it." They continued on for about ten minutes, finally emerging onto what looked like a thick sheet of blue ice. Mark was a bit hesitant to step on it, but Yana was not; the big polar bear just strode out like she'd done this a thousand times before, which, Mark realized, she probably had. While her human mate cautiously inched his way across the ice, Yana brutishly stabbed down into the ice with her sword, sending a spider web of cracks radiating out from where she'd stabbed. Mark watched in horror as she continued to stab at the ground, each blow landing with practiced precision; to the human's surprise, by the time Yana stopped, there was a large chunk of ice just waiting to be pulled out, and the bear didn't hesitate to use her sword to lever it up. "Come, krolik," she said once she saw Mark was standing back, "Is total safety."

Mark, however, quickly decided on keeping his distance. He wasn't sure what the next step in the hunting process was, but out of all the things he could think of, stripping naked was last on the list. He watched with a mixture of confusion, surprise, and arousal as Yana stripped off her clothing; it took a while for him to realize she was doing it for camouflage's sake, mainly because his eyes were fixated on her plump, furry ass cheeks. After undressing, she took up a position with her sword raised point-down, becoming as still as a statue poised to strike.

For the first two minutes, the human mimicked her stony stillness, but he quickly grew tired of standing stiff as a board. The next eight minutes passed with him just standing casually, scuffing the ice with his boots as he waited for something to happen. Yana was still as ever, barely moving a muscle as she waited for... something. As ten minutes stretched into fifteen, he began to wonder if anything was going to happen at all, and he sat down onto the frigid ice to wait it out. Maybe he should just go back to camp, he thought... or perhaps he should talk to Yana, ask what she was doing. Maybe-SHANK!

The hunt was over before Mark even knew what happened. In a split second, Yana had driven her sword downward into something below the ice, something that the human couldn't even see. He watched with confusion as Yana reached down into the water, then pulled something up from the depths with her massive strength; it turned out to be a massive, 8-foot sea lion, and as she laid it out onto the ice, Mark saw it still had her sword buried two-thirds of the way into her skull. The human sat in utter shock as Yana pulled the sword back out of its head like it was the most normal thing in the world, wiped the blade clean on the sea lion's fur, then turned to beckon him closer. "Come, krolik," she said, "Mne nuzhna tvoya pomoshch."

After beckoning him a couple more times, Mark finally took the hint, standing to his feet and walking over to Yana's kill. The beast looked even more impressive up close, easily weighing a literal ton, and he was more than a little shocked when Yana said, "Now pick it up."

"What..." Mark looked from the massive sea lion, to his own skinny arms, to Yana, then back to the sea lion. "I... I can't pick that up!"

"Try."

Mark just stared at her, dumbfounded. "Yana, there's no way I can lift that, it's gotta weigh at least two thousand pounds, and-"

"Try." Yana gazed at him with steely resolve, almost like a mother trying to push her child to greatness. "You are not lodyr, no?"

"No..."

"Then try."

"Okay... sure." The human let out a long sigh, trying to psyche himself up for this impossible task. He walked over to the sea lion, dug his gloved hands under its blubbery corpse, and... "Hrrrrrgh!" With all his strength, he only managed to push it a few inches over before his might failed him. After taking a breather, he tried grabbing hold of a flipper and pulling it, earning the same ineffectual result. His next thought was to try the head, but the stream of blood and brains flowing from its head deterred him from that approach, so he instead ran around and tried yanking on its tail. He actually managed to move it a few centimeters before he lost his grip, causing him to fall flat on his ass with a loud thud. "Yana, I can't," he panted as he got to his feet, "It's... god, I can't even move it. How the hell are we gonna get it back to camp?"

"Easy." After Yana put all her clothes back on, Mark watched in amazement as she stepped one leg over the sea lion, grabbed it around the neck, and hauled it up over her shoulder. From there, she swung it around into a fireman's carry, then began trotting off back in the direction of the camp. "Come, krolik," she said, "Grab sword and follow."

The human quickly picked up the sword, which was almost too heavy for him to lift, and began plodding along behind the polar bear. From behind, he could see the blood leaking out from the sea lion's head, staining both the ice and her pristine white fur. It was then that Mark began wondering what kind of woman he was sort of married to: sure, she was a massive, super-strong polar bear, but the casual ease with which she'd slaughtered an enormous sea lion stuck a dissonant chord in his heart. Had she killed before? Well, obviously... how else would she eat in this frozen wasteland? That in turn, brought up the question of how he'd ever survive out here... hell, if it weren't for the grace of the polar bear tribe, he wouldn't have survived a day. Then again, if it hadn't been for them, he'd probably be back home now, looking over his photos and- "Ey, krolik, how much kilogram can you carry?"

"Uh, well..." Mark knew he could deadlift about a hundred and seventy pounds from his brief forays into the gym, but he wasn't all too sure what the conversion rates were. "Maybe... sixty?"

"Sixty?" Yana let out a loud chuckle. "You funny, krolik."

The human didn't take kindly to being laughed at, and although he dreaded what she might say, he still replied, "How much can you carry?"

"Trista pyat'desyat... three-fifty, easy." She casually adjusted her grip on the sea lion as if emphasizing the point, then added, "I see why you amerikanskiy do not hunt. I guess I have to hunt for you, da?"

"Yeah..." The rest of the walk back to camp was reasonably quiet, allowing Mark to contemplate his situation a bit more. He was basically a pet, now that he thought about it; the human needed someone to get him food and keep him safe, and he couldn't do a whole lot around the house. All he was good for was affection and keeping the bed warm... but then again, being Yana's sex toy/pet hadn't been all that bad. The polar bear quickly got him through the gate, and once they were inside the village, several polar bears rushed up and took the bear from Yana, carrying it over to what looked like an open-air butcher shop. Mark expected Yana to leave them to it and lead him back to her cabin, but instead, she grabbed her sword from him and murmured, "Stay out of trouble," before heading off to help butcher the carcass. With one swing of her greatsword, she chopped off the beast's head, after which she grabbed a knife from a rack and began the process of gutting it.

A few minutes afterward, some other polar bears began setting up what looked like a bonfire, stacking up thick logs into a pyramid-shaped pyre. Despite his missing leg, Yana's father was helping too, hauling bunches of bunches of branches that looked far too heavy for any human to carry. The thought of helping crossed Mark's mind, but after a quick look at the logs, he realized he wouldn't be able to do much. He also thought about aiding Yana, but quickly dismissed the idea as soon as he saw the amount of blood coating everyone and everything in the shop. With little to do, and Yana's command of "Stay out of trouble" ringing in his mind, he just took a seat on the steps of one of the wagons, then settled in to watch the bears work.

There was something beautiful in the way Yana carried herself, he thought after watching for fifteen minutes. True, she used her sword like a butcher's cleaver, and crimson blood stained her white fur up to the elbows, but she still maintained a sense of grace despite her size... or maybe it was all in her figure. Mark's eyes lingered hungrily on her sizeable rear, reminiscing about all the times he'd pounded her into oblivion... and all the times that fluffy polar bear tush had almost smothered him. Despite the gory spectacle, he could feel himself getting slightly stiff in the pants, and he'd just begun subtly rubbing his groin when a careful footstep crunched in the snow behind him.

"EY, IZVRASHCHENNAYA SUKA!" The shouted exclamation made Mark almost crap his pants, and he whirled around to see Yana's mother Masha glaring at him not two feet away. The older polar bear was even more gigantic than his sort-of wife, and although she had a bit more fat on her, he guessed she could still snap him in half. "Sdelayte sebya poleznym," she continued once she had his attention, "Otnesite etikh ryb ke ognyu." She then kicked something toward Mark, and it was then that he noticed the massive basket of fish lying on the ground.

The human looked back up at the bear with fear in his eyes, not sure what she wanted from him. "I don't understand," he whimpered, "Do you want me to take these somewhere?"

Masha let out an exasperated sigh, then replied, "Vy. Pereyekhat. Ryby. Tam." She pointed to him, then to the fish, then to the bonfire that the other bears had just lit up.

"Okay..." Mark finally understood, but he quickly realized that the basket was probably a bit heavy for him and that Yana had said to stay put. "I'm sorry, but Yana told me to stay here... couldn't you take it?"

The older bear's eyes gleamed with rage, and with two broad steps, she was right in front of him. She then made a show of cracking her knuckles and neck, showing off her massive muscles while demonstrating the sound Mark's bones would make if he didn't hop to it. "Peremeshchay tekh ryb," she viciously growled, "Ty lenivyy malen'kiy amerikanskiy izvrashchenets!"

"Okay, okay, I'll take the damn fish!" Mark hurriedly grabbed the basket, and although it took quite a bit of effort to pick up, he was able to pick it up and stagger over to the fire before dropping it to the ground. One of the other polar bears came up with a bundle of sticks, then sat down and began skewering each of the fish in turn, leaving Mark with nothing to do once again. He looked back over his shoulder to see Masha still glaring at him, and after a moment's thought, he decided the best person to talk to about the whole mother-in-law situation was the chief herself.

He wandered over to where Yana was directing some of the other bears, and as soon as she saw him approaching, she gave one last command before turning to face him. "Ah, krolik," she said with a grin on her face, "Chto proishodit?"

"Well, I wanted to talk about Masha," the human began, "She's been a bit... ah... standoffish."

Yana could see the fearful expression on Mark's features but still cracked a small smile. "Do not worry, krolik, she just get to know you. She still try to protect everyone in tribe, and that mean she take while to trust." The big polar bear put a paw on Mark's shoulder, squeezing gently, then added, "Just relax, you smell like fear."

The human thought for a moment before fully realizing what Yana had said. "Wait, what? You can... smell that I'm afraid?"

"Everyone can, krolik, ty pakhnesh kak malen'kaya suka!" Yana chuckled at her own joke, accompanied by a few sniggers from the surrounding bears, and Mark was just about to retort when Yana pulled him into a cozy hug. Despite the metallic scent of blood that hung around her, it still felt good to have his cheek pressed against her soft bosom. "You stay on her good side, you be fine," she murmured comfortingly, petting the back of his hooded head with one massive paw. "I make sure of it."

After taking a deep breath of Yana's musky yet calming scent, he pulled back just a bit to look her in the eye. "Is there any work that a krolik could do?" he asked, "I think Masha doesn't like me just hanging around."

"Sure." Yana let him go, then beckoned over a teenage-looking polar bear who was almost the same height as Mark. "Dima," she ordered, "Pokazhi zdes' Marku, kak sdelat neskolko plevkov."

The young bear nodded, then wordlessly beckoned Mark over to where a few other bears were working on what looked like racks or spits. It didn't take long to get the hang of it, and before long, he was putting his nimble human hands to work tying knots and hammering down sticks. The nearby fire helped keep his bare hands from freezing off, and once the time came to actually put meat on the spits, Mark felt rather proud of his handiwork.

The rest of the day passed relatively quickly, with the human either taking on trivial tasks or resting inside Yana's wagon. He had a nice lunch of cooked sea lion which he washed down with a rather funny-tasting tea, after which he had a taste of what Yana called ryazhenka. It tasted like some kind of sweet and creamy caramel, but when Mark asked what it was, she just replied, "You no want to know," with a slight chuckle. The afternoon involved more odd jobs and hanging around, only this time, Marsha made it obvious she was watching him. The fact that she was lifting massive logs and baskets of meat made it somewhat intimidating, but the human could have sworn that her hellish glare had softened just a tad... maybe seeing him working had helped build a bit of trust.