Fineprint Pt. 02: Republic

She squeezed his balls in her palm gently, and he bucked, pushing himself deeper inside her moist tunnel. Ursi smirked, enjoying the sensation of his member throbbing inside her.

"Go on..."

"You're warm...and soft..."

Another squeeze was his reward, her delicate, downy fur tickling his sensitive skin. His member pulsed, flexing against her walls as they closed around him, striving to drag him further in with their hypnotic contractions.

"You're good at...kissing."

"Oh I am?" She pulled him out of her, a string of thick fluid trailing from his member. As he had suspected, on Earth her tail was strong enough to lift him like a doll. She held him in the air, flipping her body over to lie on her back, her massive chest deforming and spreading under its own weight. She shuffled up the bed, into a lounging position with her feet on the deck, and passed him from her tail into her outstretched arms. She hugged him against her body, pressing his face into her silky, pliant breasts. He sank his fingers into the irresistible chub of her belly, squeezing the soft fat as his member dug into her furry thigh. She allowed him to nuzzle and explore her with his roving hands for a moment, then lay back, letting him fall between her open legs. He found her opening again, pushing inside her gently as she lay her head back, a happy sigh escaping her lips. She placed a heavy hand on his spine, leaning forward a little so that her face was level with his, to compensate for their height difference.

He began to move, his face reddening as she gazed into his eyes, watching him with a grin as he shivered and gasped at the stimulation, the exquisite textures of her tunnel scouring his cock.

"Ok, I am satisfied, you may come." She laughed as he began to move faster, driving his member against the subtle upward curve of her tunnel. She placed her other hand on his cheek softly, the delicate hairs tickling his skin, and moved her face forward. Her puffy, oversized lips met his, and her tongue slipped into his mouth, its slow, calculated motions sending a wave of pleasure down his spine. His movements became more erratic and desperate as they embraced, her agile tongue teasing him, at once gentle and forceful. His brain began to cloud, her expert kiss sending sparks through his mind, he couldn't think straight whenever her lips were pressed against his. Her scent, the metallic taste of her saliva, the powerful motions of the slippery muscle as it both excited and satiated him. She left him just enough room to breathe as her tongue wandered, tickling his throat and coiling around his organ.

She released him, now gripping his hair in her hand and pulling him into her cleavage. Her musk filled his senses, her soft, fluffy breasts pressed around his head. She ran her dull claws up his back, making him buck and flinch, chuckling to herself as she tormented him.

"Finish inside me...I like it."

It was an invitation he couldn't refuse, and so he thrusted desperately, slamming into her depths, her tight, fleshy walls gripping him and sticking to his skin on the outward motion. She held him against her, her chest rising and falling more rapidly as her breath became ragged, the soft fur of her hands warming his naked back.

He felt her massive thighs close around him, the pliant flesh pressing into his hips as her legs trapped him, pulling him against her body. He was surrounded on all sides by flesh and fur, her warmth penetrating him to the bone. She squeezed him in her limbs almost painfully, a low growl rising in her throat, even her flexible tail coiled around one of his legs like a snake, as if she were trying to take possession of him. He felt a tremendous shiver roll through her body and translate into him, and she grunted, her powerful climax making the walls of her tunnel ripple over his member, almost vibrating around him as she drew out his climax.

He shot thick wads of his ejaculate inside her, coating her inner walls with his essence as she trembled and shivered, her hot breath ruffling his hair. He groaned, his voice muffled by her bosom as the almost painful jolts of pleasure forced more of his emission out of him, his erection throbbing and jumping against the vice of velvet muscle that contained it.

They rode out the waves of pleasure together, gasping and panting, clawing at each other's bodies as if it might somehow lessen their exquisite suffering. After what felt like an eternity Dennis came to his senses, feeling Ursi's gentle stroking on his head, scratching his scalp with her dull claws in the way that she knew he liked, afterglow flooding him with a calm euphoria. He slipped out of her, along with a trickle of their mixed fluids, and Ursi rubbed her engorged clitoris with the spongy pad of her index finger, wringing out the last few aftershocks as she buried her face in the nape of his neck.

"I needed that..." She mumbled, rolling onto her side, her powerful legs still wrapped around Dennis. She held him against her fluffy body, one hand at the base of his spine and the other gripping the back of his head.

"Let's sleep like this...I can still feel your come inside me...so warm..."

He pressed his face into her inviting cleavage, and closed his eyes, breathing in her flowery perfume and listening to her breathing, now slow and regular. It was like being cradled by a giant teddy bear, her body radiated so much heat that he felt as if she were reaching inside his torso with invisible fingers and warming his very soul. He wrapped his arm around her waist, the soft tire of tender fat that made up her love handle yielding as he squeezed it, his fingers sinking into her meat and the fleece of her coat. He couldn't keep his hands off her, her body was so enticing, so pleasing to the touch. He buried his face in her cleavage, the swollen, malleable flesh parting to allow him access.

He fell asleep in her arms, the dwindling afterglow easing him into pleasant dreams.

The next day the Borealans filed out of the Navarin into the snow, resuming their work from the day before. A small group went to check the cauldron, pulling out the strips of bark from the now cool water. They had become limp and flexible, just as Ursi had hoped, lengths of flat, durable rope that would harden as the air dried them out.

They brought the strips over to the construction site, and as three Borealans lifted each log, slotting them into their grooves, two others wrapped the joint with lengths of bark. Before long, the vertical supports were linked by horizontal braces, and the structure was beginning to take shape. Dennis had assumed they would need to wait a few days for the bark to dry, but the Borealans pried open yet another crate and produced an unrecognizable tool. It looked a little like a blowtorch with a flared nozzle. They used the tool to quickly dry out the strips of bark, causing them to contract and squeeze the joints together. Dennis could hear them steam and creak as the aliens ran the flared tool over them.

When they were all properly affixed, the Borealans connected smaller knee braces to reinforce them, tying them together using the same process. Despite the lack of nails and adhesives, the simple joints and ropes looked as if they would be strong enough to keep the growing structure upright. It had taken a couple of days so far, but the speed at which they worked under Ursi's direction was surprising.

As Dennis watched, the group returned to wood pile, selecting more logs and beginning to hack at them with their heavy axes. He wandered over to Ursi as she walked through the structure, testing the beams with her hands.

"What are they doing now?"

"They're building the rafters that will support the roof."

He watched her as she pushed against one of the supports, trying to shake it and ensure that the bark rope had secured the two logs together properly.

"How do you know about all this stuff Ursi? Why does a Queen know about carpentry and traditional building techniques?"

"It is necessary for me to know," she replied, tugging at one of the braces. "I'm not just leading my people to a new home, I'm bringing our culture here, our history. Life is harsh in the polar territory, passing on knowledge is extremely important, it guards against cataclysms, ensuring that no situation occurs where knowledge is lost due to the death of a single expert or artisan. In the modern era we can store data in books or computers, but we maintain a strong oral tradition. My people are survivors, it is uncommon that a citizen of the polar territory does not know how to build shelter such as this, or hunt their own food."

The Borealans made quick work of the rafters, and fitted them to the braces as Dennis watched from the sidelines, his boots sinking in the deep snow. As the midday sun rose high in the sky, the aliens put the finishing touches on the frame, connecting the rafters at their peak with strong, thick logs. Now the structure had the beginnings of a roof, and the skeletal frame was complete.

"How are you going to cover it?" Dennis asked, and Ursi scratched her furry chin with a black claw, thinking.

" There are several methods, in a situation with fewer resources we could layer bark to panel the walls, it wouldn't be very insulating but it would preserve the life of the inhabitants. We have no quarry, so stacking the walls with rocks and earth will not be possible at this stage. I think the best option is to stack logs, this is good, thick wood. I will have my pack start work on cutting the trunks to size and flattening the joints."

She strode through the snow, and barked at the waiting Borelans, they immediately got to work, beginning to select logs from the pile, using marking sticks to measure their length. They intended to stack the logs between the supports, like a log cabin, Dennis realized, but four hundred feet long. Between each support would be a self-contained log wall, the logs cut to size, then shaved flat on the top and bottom so that they would fit snugly together. As Dennis watched them work, he wondered if all Polars were skilled in carpentry, or if Ursi had made sure to bring artisans with her, knowing that such work would be necessary.

They used the blades of their axes to cut the tree trunks to the correct length, carrying them over to the structure to test them, placing them between the supports. They seemed to want them slightly longer than was necessary, ensuring a tight fit, perhaps so tight that adhesives would not be necessary.

It took them the rest of the day, but between each of the supports there was now a sturdy log wall, the joints so snug that Dennis couldn't even see between them. All that was left to do was the roof. It was starting to look quiet attractive, Dennis thought, stepping backwards in the snow and appraising the massive longhouse from a distance. The only opening now was a nine foot by six foot space left at the front where a door would eventually be inserted, so he assumed. He wondered how, or indeed if they would furnish the interior. They intended to live inside it communally, surely they would need beds, dividing walls for privacy, surfaces upon which to prepare food, and all of the other necessities a living space required.

They returned to the Navarin, intending to eat and sleep once more, and again Ursi did not join him in his cabin.

The next day Dennis woke to see a dozen Borealans on the skeletal roof of the structure, laying planks between the rafters that were being cut by the rest of the pack near the log pile. They used their axes to chop the logs, following the natural grain of the wood in order to produce long, flat sections that they then passed up to the roofers. They weren't perfect, but given the tools available they were surprisingly straight and even. By midday the entire roof of the massive structure was covered with planks, but it didn't look especially insulating or waterproof.

The next step seemed to be to strip more logs of their bark, and flatten it, layering the pieces like scales over the planks in such a way that rain and snow would not fall between the gaps. They needed an inordinate amount of bark in order to line the whole roof, but luckily lumber was not scarce in the Siberian taiga, and a few quick trips to the nearest forest solved their supply problems.

When the roof was covered in bark, and Ursi was satisfied that it was water tight, the Borealans retrieved their shovels, and began to dig up piles of frozen dirt. Before long there was a deep trench running all the way around the building. Perhaps they were making some kind of defensive moat, Dennis mused, but then they began to pile the dirt on the roof, throwing great masses of soil over their shoulders. A few clambered up onto the structure and began to spread it around with their hands.

Dennis wandered over and got Ursi's attention, his question obvious before he had even opened his mouth.

"The bark stops snow and water from penetrating through the planks," she explained, "and the layer of dirt will insulate the roof and stop the heat from escaping."

"Can the roof support the weight of all that soil?" Dennis asked, skeptical as he watched the aliens work.

"It should, the gravity here is lower than on Borealis and these are techniques we have used for thousands of years in the polar territory. The supports and beams should be sturdy enough to hold both the soil, and any water or snow that falls on it. In the growing season, plants may even take root."

He stood beside her, watching late into the afternoon as the longhouse took on the appearance of a small hill, covered with snow it might not even be visible from any kind of distance. When they were finished with the roof, they erected a massive wooden door, filling the space that had been left in the log wall at the near end of the longhouse. They used hefty wooden stakes as hinges, one at the top and one at the bottom, meaning that the door could swing open and closed. They secured it with pegs that could be raised or lowered in order to keep it shut. It had no locking mechanism, but nosy neighbors were not a concern in this wilderness.

Dennis stood inside the completed longhouse, a handful of Borealans were crouched around a stone circle in the center, tending a fire that sent wisps of grey smoke up into the air and out of a small opening in the roof. The structure was truly massive, he felt as if he were standing inside some kind of wooden cathedral. The huge log beams that made up the rafters were bared elegantly, the fire, which was the only source of light, casting dancing shadows on the roof and painting the log walls in an orange glow. He could feel the warmth already, the insulation the thick wood provided trapping it as the flames slowly warmed the enormous space. More Borealans filed in, walking past him, carrying more stone that they had retrieved, it looked as if there would be at least two more fires along the length of the building. Despite how easy it would have been, he noted that they had installed no dividing walls, leaving the entire space open and communal. Privacy must not be a concern for the pack.

"What do you think of it?" Ursi sidled up next to him, her arms crossed as she appraised the longhouse.

"Impressive, big. A lot like its architect," he added, nudging her thigh with his elbow. Ursi grinned, ruffling his hair with her giant hand.

"All that is left to do is furnish it. I am undecided on how we should proceed. I could have my carpenters carve furniture from wood, it would conform to the traditional style of the building, however much of it would need to be replaced at a later date regardless, as modern amenities become available. I may take up your Russians on their offer and have them provide us with temporary furnishings. If I were to give them the necessary measurements, would they be able to fabricate what we need?"

"If you're talking about chairs, tables, work surfaces, things like that, I'm sure they would be able to produce them very quickly," Dennis replied. "If you can give me a list of everything you need, along with the dimensions, I can put the request through using the Navarin's comms."

Ursi nodded, scratching her chin with her claw.

"I think that is what I will do. Besides, the pack needs meat and they are becoming restless, we must hunt soon and hold a feast in honor of completing the project. The first Borealan dwelling in our new republic, there is much to celebrate. Dennis, can you retrieve information on local fauna from the ship's computer?"

He thought for a moment, then nodded.

"Good, we must learn what is good to eat, and how to hunt it."

CHAPTER 3: BIG GAME

Over the next few hours Ursi worked out what furniture they would need for the longhouse, walking through the space with a tablet computer and entering in the data, converting Borealan measurements to centimeters and being sure to note any special requirements. Dennis returned to the Navarin and used the computer to look up information on the animal species that inhabited the Siberian taiga. It looked as if wild game was plentiful, there were large moose, of ideal size for a Borealan to dine on, species of wild deer and sheep, and even large predators such as black bears and the newly reintroduced Siberian tigers. He wasn't sure if Borealans would eat those, but they would surely prize the pelts. The two pilots hovered over his shoulder, increasingly bored and agitated, resentful of being grounded for so many days.

After a while Ursi pushed through the automatic doors to the cockpit, crouching as her head brushed the ceiling, bringing Dennis the tablet with all of the necessary data for the things she required. He put the request through, and the Russians were more than eager to help, insisting that they could 3D print the furniture and deliver it that very afternoon. Ursi was surprised, but pleased. Dennis transferred the data on the local species to her tablet, then followed her back out of the Navarin and down the ramp, into the snow.

"If the Russians keep their word, we can hunt right now, any meat we catch will keep in the snow until the work surfaces we require to prepare it arrive."

"What are you going to hunt?"

Ursi looked out over the snowy landscape, past the longhouse, with three trails of smoke slowly rising from its roof. The Borealans were moving the rest of the crates inside, and chopping more firewood with their giant axes.

"It is hard to say, having never hunted any of these species before. At this point you know more about them than I do. What do you suggest?"

She handed him the tablet and he reached up to take it, swiping past the list of local fauna.

"Well...moose are the largest, they have the most meat. That said, they're solitary animals, might be hard to find one. Deer live in herds, but they're very fast and quite lean. Wild sheep might be your best bet, I can even advise on how to best prepare mutton."

She cocked her head at him.

"Oh, that's sheep meat," he added. He handed the tablet back to her and she examined the entry on sheep. She couldn't actually read English very well yet, Dennis had been attempting to teach her.

"Their coats are made of fluff? Could be useful to us."

"Yep, that's called wool, humans have used it as a material to make clothing for thousands of years."

"Can you read this?" Ursi asked, showing him the entry on her screen and pointing with her black claw.

"It says...they live in large herds, that's good, looks like you'll find them in the more mountainous regions, it's quite a trek but I'm sure your people can handle it."

"I will take a small party, this is new prey, there may be unforeseen complications. Stay here, and meet the Russians when they bring the furniture. Have the Borealans who remained take it inside the longhouse."