Being the Bear

Mitch nudged Walt and whispered, "What's Windsor? I mean, why should it ring a bell?" Walt just shrugged and returned to listening intently.

"For the benefit of those of you who may not know, a bear friend of mine, name of Steve Branson, was in Windsor, back in Vermont, serving a ten year sentence. There was a notorious case maybe 12 years ago, popular local politician got himself killed. The guy was a real sleazeball, kiddy porn, some drugs, too; but that wasn't known at the time. He was popular back then. BIG outcry, demand that the police DO something. Eventually, Steve was arrested and charged with the murder."

Robert looked at Boris, who indicated that he should continue.

"See, Steve had killed the guy, but it was in self-defense, not murder. He'd confronted this guy over a drug deal involving the daughter of a guy Steve worked with. In the struggle, Steve partially changed. Somehow, this sleazeball politico escaped, then started to blackmail Steve. You know, 'Five big ones in a bag, or some people find out what you really are'. Anyway, Steve confronts this guy again. This guy has gotten silver bullets from somewhere, has a cross, the whole nine legendary yards; and he starts taking shots at Steve. Well, you know how strong Steve was, and what a temper he had. It truly wasn't his fault, and the lawyer worked his butt off and got the charge reduced to manslaughter, though he wasn't able to get the jury to go completely with self-defense. The DA's case was sloppy and politically motivated, but there were some things that our lawyer just couldn't use in evidence, forensic stuff mostly. Too risky for Steve; and too risky for us." He looked at Rusty and Moose. "Being a werebear has its problems, too."

"The judge wasn't happy, he and the DA were golf buddies. He gave Steve the maximum sentence he could; ten years. We even tried to arrange a prison break of sorts before they had a chance to transfer Steve, but they moved really fast, getting him out of there and into Windsor before we had a chance to organize something. The best we could do was to let him know that we'd take care of things for him while he was in, and once he was out, an 'accident' would be arranged so he could disappear and start life over someplace else."

Rusty whispered intently to Mitch. "What's all this got to do with us and the rogue?" Mitch shrugged, and Walt shook his head and put his finger to his lips.

"The last two years of Steve's sentence coincided with Sebastian's two year term. Sebastian's gay, and he knew he'd need some protection inside. He'd been assigned to work in the creamery, same place as Steve. He was attracted to Steve. Boris doesn't think so, but I really think there must have been some feeling there. I just don't see Steve not sussing out a complete fake. Anyway, Sebastian and Steve get along, then they become more involved. I don't know if they had sex while they were in prison, but I DO know that by the end of Steve's sentence, he really had fallen for Sebastian, and Sebastian professed love for Steve. They agreed to set up together once Sebastian got out, about a month after Steve. Steve asked us to postpone the 'accident' for a while." Robert paused.

"When I talked with Steve, it was obvious to me that he had real feelings for this guy, and that he believed that Sebastian had feelings for him. 'This is real,' he said to me. Well, Steve always was a romantic, but I believed him. I didn't trust Sebastian, but I believed Steve. So, when Sebastian got out, no one was surprised when he moved in with Steve. Whether Steve explained what he was to Sebastian while they were in prison, or afterwards, I don't know; but Sebastian was willingly changed by Steve. Later, before he made his first change, we staged the 'accident' that let them disappear and start new lives. That wasn't easy, by the way." Robert looked at Vic. "We really need to get someone into databases and shit like that. Arranging new identities used to be easy. Now it's getting harder and harder."

"Anyway, and this is the ironic part, Steve and Sebastian move to Montana, get jobs and start new lives. Steve's working construction, Sebastian is in retail. Things are good for about six months. Sebastian seems to be turning over a new leaf. Then bang!, Steve gets killed by a falling beam on a construction site. Skull crushed. A fake accident 'kills' him, and then the real thing comes along and actually does." Robert shook his head. "Some of us traveled there to see Sebastian, offer any help we could. Now, I never liked Sebastian from the start, but Steve loved him. And he DID seem to be making a clean start; and he was family now, so we made the trip."

"What happened?" Moose asked, speaking up. Rusty elbowed him in the ribs.

"Sebastian disappeared. We got there and he was gone, cleared out. No funeral arrangements, nothing. All of Steve's stuff was left behind, just a few pictures were missing, as far as we could tell." Boris nodded. "We had a hell of a time getting Steve's body released for burial because none of us were family. We all knew we couldn't just write Sebastian off, but it took a while to find him again. When we did, I more or less dedicated my time to keeping track of him. I felt I owed it to Steve, and I just knew we'd have to do an intervention sooner or later. I'd no idea what he was up to, though. It wasn't until later that I found out he was changing guys. That's when I got in touch with Boris."

"Robert, I know you kept close tabs on Sebastian, but no one suspected what he was up to, so don't feel bad." Boris said, "Apparently, he's very... convincing."

He smiled at Robert, then turned to the rest of the bears. "We know that Sebastian has changed some of his cronies from prison or maybe guys he'd known on the outside before. If it was willingly or not, we don't know, but I suspect that at least some of them had no idea. Robert tells me he knows for a fact that at least some of them aren't kindred, and that at least one became so wild in his first change that Sebastian had to kill him. It's never a good idea to change someone who isn't kin, of course. I know others have disagreed with me, but the legends tell us that ones who aren't kindred will often go mad if they are changed and here we have the proof. I'll bet anything the one who went mad wasn't kindred." Boris growled in disgust.

"So. They function as a criminal gang, petty theft, the occasional convenience store or small bank. It appears that he deliberately changed four or five other men so he could have a gang of sorts. Some criminal activity is easier when you're a werebear, I guess." Boris paused and took a drink.

Robert spoke again. "What makes all this so bad is that now he's killed someone local, I mean local to him in Billings. He killed an old guy who ran a liquor store. Why he did it doesn't make sense. The old guy didn't own a gun and in previous robberies he cooperated completely. I can only guess that the store owner saw something, maybe one of them changing, and Sebastian decided he didn't need any tales of werebear gangsters floating about. Really, really careless on their part, that's the first thing Steve should have taught him and probably did, but Sebastian isn't the sort to listen to 'authority'. His response seemed to be to kill first and think later."

Boris set his drink down. "This is why we are all here. We have to do something, before it's too late."

René leaned forward. "I agree, we must do something. For obvious reasons we cannot leave this to the authorities. Do we know where to find them?"

"Well, as of two days ago I did," Robert explained. "They've holed up in an old ranch house outside of Billings. I think they don't plan on staying long, so they may have moved. We should move fast."

René interrupted. "Wait. I know this seems urgent, but we must consider carefully. Our sudden arrival might scare them off. And we ourselves aren't exactly inconspicuous; we may make suspicion in the minds of the town."

"Oh, Billings is big enough, I doubt we'd be noticed that much," Robert said.

"Perhaps. But my concern runs deeper. What do you propose we do when we get there? Discuss politely with them? Fight? It does not seem that they would be amenable to the friendly chat." René said.

Vic, who was more astute than he sometimes appeared, caught a whiff of some other concern under René's words. Mitch, too, felt there was more to this than met the eye, or ear. He leaned over and whispered to Vic. Vic nodded.

Boris spoke next. "Let's be frank. We all know what this means for us, what's at stake here. We cannot let the local authorities take care of this. Imagine the consequences if a policeman, or several policemen, reliable witnesses, saw a change. Or if one or more of Sebastian's gang were to be seriously wounded and taken to a hospital, or attended by a paramedic." Boris turned to Moose and Rusty. "One of the reasons there are such strong prohibitions against criminal activity among our kind is to avoid situations just such as this. Our deeply rooted customs of self-policing arise out of our need to be inconspicuous, unnoticed by the general population. Our survival depends on it."

René spoke up. "But, to kill?"

Shocked, Rusty leaned over to Mitch and said, "What does he mean, 'kill'?"

René's were-sharpened ears caught the comment and replied. "Yes. I said 'kill'. We all understand what Boris and Robert are leading to, even if you do not. I do not fault your lack of knowledge, for you are young and new to all this. But Boris, and Robert, too, I think, feel that we must do something soon; and what choice does he present to us but to eliminate these rogues?" Robert nodded, but Boris was still.

"Boris, we had discussed this before," René continued. "There are too few of us to idly consider reducing our numbers further..."

"Not 'idly' at all, I assure you," Boris interjected.

"And even more of an issue is that of were killing were. It goes against much of what we fundamentally are." René's voice rose with his excitement. "We may need to kill these rogues, but I beg you to consider it only as a last resort."

There was a moment of silence, then it seemed that everyone spoke at once. The hubbub increased until René's voice rose above it.

"Our traditions strongly discourage bear killing bear. Always there have been too few of us, and we are ever-mindful that such violence brings unwanted attention from the rest of the world, especially where there are so many legends and superstitions about werekind."

Boris looked around. "I have never liked violence, but I fear that in this situation, we have no choice. Even if they saw reason and agreed to change their ways, we would always have to be watchful of them."

"At least let us give them that chance," René all but shouted. Larry jumped up to answer him.

"Y'all know where ah stand on this. They're a threat to us, ever' one. They violated one of our oldest customs. We cain't let the public deal with it. It's up ta us. We gotta kill 'em an' do it soon, 'fore they kill again or someone finds out 'bout 'em... or us." René glared at Larry, who stared back, eyes flat.

"Bears, BEARS!" Boris said. "This gets us nowhere. Please, René and Larry, sit. René, I know you are loath to kill weres. You come from a long and distinguished line of werebears, and your words carry great weight here. Under most circumstances, I would agree wholeheartedly with you. But Larry has a legitimate point. This endangers us all. And not just us, but werebears everywhere." The big bear turned next to Vic.

"Vic, you have been quiet. What are your feelings?"

Vic rose and spoke. "I feel much as René does." Here, René smiled and looked at Larry almost in triumph. "Our blood and seed give life, and we should think carefully before taking it away. But I have to agree with Robert and you. It appears that we may well have no choice here." Vic sat.

"Walt? Mitch? Would you like to add anything to our discussion?" Boris looked expectantly at the two. Vic hadn't been wrong in judging character yet, and he was interested in what these two might have to say, given Vic's endorsement of them.

Walt hung back, but Mitch cleared his throat and spoke up.

"I know that none of you know me, and it is true I haven't had time to learn much about being a werebear yet. But before this guy here gave me my life back..." Here, Mitch gave Walt's shoulder a squeeze and Walt looked down and blushed. "Before that, I was a geneticist. I would think that even a cursory bit of blood work would reveal to a tech or a doc that the patient or body he was working on wasn't exactly what it appeared to be. So there is a very real danger in a police confrontation and shootout of forensic work being done at the scene. Obviously, people in Billings who might see one of the gang change would open the door to all sorts of unwelcome questions." There were nods from the other bears, but Mitch knew he was going over old ground. "I hesitate to offer a suggestion here, but..."

"No, please. Go ahead," Boris nodded. Mitch took a deep breath. He knew there had been comments about 'the new bears'.

"Well, what about a compromise? We go to Billings and confront these guys. We're prepared to do what we have to, but we give them the chance to reform. If it becomes obvious that they aren't interested in that, well..." Mitch left the obvious unstated. "But, they have a choice then. Robert said that some of them might not have known what was going to happen to them when they had sex with Sebastian. The unwilling ones might not want to continue with Sebastian's little plan. After all, they only have Sebastian's view of what it means to be a werebear. We give them an out by offering the gang a chance. Any who do agree might need to be 'adopted' so that they learn from more experienced bears and perhaps in this way, they can be salvaged, but I don't expect that Sebastian is salvageable. From what has been said of him, he's a bad seed and is likely to try to charm his way out. Then, as soon as he feels confident, he'd turn on us. Anyway, that's the way I see it." Mitch sat, and Walt kissed him, pride in his eyes. Vic murmured quietly, "Good cub!"

Boris looked at Mitch appraisingly. First, it took guts to stand up among strangers who were both more experienced and perhaps less than completely welcoming. Second, his idea had a great deal of merit. Finally, it had been expressed quietly and with conviction, not heated emotion. This was a bear to watch.

There was some further discussion, with Larry still holding out for immediate termination of the all rogues, but in surprisingly short order, the consensus was reached that Mitch's suggestion should be the course of action, at least for now. Later, as the bears were relaxing on the deck as the sun went down, Boris spoke with Vic.

"Your Mitch has his head screwed on right. Where did your cub find him?"

"Oh, Mitch and Walt go back to high school, but they've only been back in contact with each other for about six months. Walt had a thing for Mitch in school, but Mitch never knew. They met up again at a class reunion."

"Well, he's got a lot of sense and what you Americans call 'spunk'. It takes guts to speak up like that in front of a crowd like this." Boris gave Vic a bear hug. "Thanks for bringing them."

Larry interrupted them. "Hey, you ol' Czarist bastard. You still got that hot tub downstairs?"

Boris chuckled and said, "Yes, and it's all fired up and hot."

"Woo-fuckin'-HOO! Let's git nekkid!" With a whoop, Larry bounded off towards the stairs, shedding bits of clothing as he went.

"He may be a gun-toting redneck and a hard-liner, but he's got some good ideas," Robert said, as he pulled off his shirt over his head and followed the Texan bear down the stairs. Rene followed him.

Chapter 6

Robert crossed to the wall and adjusted the heater controls for the hot tub and dimmed the lights, allowing enough to see by for people unfamiliar with the room but not enough to interfere with the spectacular view of the mountains out the sliding glass doors.

Larry stepped into the hot tub and let out a grunt and a loud sigh as water rose and the heat soaked into his bones. His dark brown fur floated out as he lowered himself in, his cock bobbed on the surface until he sat down. He sported a cock that looked like it was nearly always at half staff. In fact, it was his ball sack that was nearly always snugged up tight below that raised his penis to an angle that suggested arousal. His legs were not especially furry, but his torso was heavily pelted. The long hairs floated this way and that in the water.

"This is better'n sex!" he sighed, closing his eyes.

"Well, let's not go too far," Robert laughed.

"Well, perhaps, mon ami; hot water can ease many things, but sex is superior, I think, no?"

Larry opened one eye. René was busily removing his pants. He was less stocky than the average bear, not as thick in the middle, and without the prominent belly most bears had. His cock was wide, with the tip enveloped in thick foreskin. Flaccid, it begged to be sucked. Erect, it was impressive. His body was covered with red-orange fur that was long and straight. The pattern was unusual in that it was so sharply defined. Along his sides, he had no hair, then suddenly it was thick and long on chest and belly. Shoulders were bare, but back and arms were covered. His butt was smooth, but his legs were satyr-like. René had a reputation of being an efficient top as well as an enthusiastic bottom. His family were renowned for being much more than merely satisfactory in the sack.

René stepped into the hot tub. "Shall we test your theory?" Larry opened the other eye, and sat up.

"Come to papa!" Larry leaned toward the French Canadian bear. René stepped down into the hot tub and fed his cock to Larry. Larry teased the tip, then worked his tongue up and down the narrow shaft. He forced his tongue into the ample foreskin, tickling the sensitive place all uncut men have on the underside where the tip joins the shaft. René alternately moaned and rolled his eyes back in his head.

Larry put his arms around René's thighs and drew in close while swallowing his cock to the root. He snuffled and nosed around the standing bear's pubes. The two appeared to have forgotten their earlier disagreements.

"OK. Hot tubs are second best, next to sex!" Larry spoke around the rigid pole in his mouth.

"Now, that's what I call international cooperation!" Boris said, coming down the stairs and looking at the two. He crossed to Robert, who was extracting towels from a cupboard and kissed his friend. He took two large towels and handed them to Walt and Mitch. "Please... you are my guests. Make yourself at home," he said, gesturing towards the tub. "It is not often that we get to entertain so many bears at one time, and Robert and I love to play."

They stood for a moment, watching Larry and René in their entente cordiale. René was moaning as Larry fingered his asshole. "I thought you said René was a dedicated top," Mitch whispered to Robert.

"Oh, Larry's just priming the pump. If I know Larry, he's looking forward to a nice long game of sit n' spin on some Frenchie bearmeat."

"Where are your friends, the big one and the short one?" Boris asked as he disrobed. Boris was a prototypical bear: big, bearded, round bellied, and hairy as hell. Over the decades, he'd aged a bit, and thickened more than a little. He carried the weight well. Robert hugged his lover from behind, and Boris wiggled his butt in pleasure.

"I think they're still upstairs," replied Walt. "Believe it or not, Moose is kinda shy in groups."

"But I thought you and they had..." Boris looked at Walt, puzzled.