Fineprint Pt. 02: Republic

Ursi lifted off his face, her discolored eyelids drooping and her weighty, meaty breasts swaying, her breathing ragged, her chest heaving as she watched Dennis' face contort. His cheeks were crimson, burning with blood and dripping with Ursi's juices, and as he tried to hide his sticky face in embarrassment she pinned his arms to the bed, ensuring she could see every pained expression as Kaisha wrung his orgasm from him. He cried out, her steely muscles crushing his member between her tight walls, and Kaisha joined him, yelping as he felt her contractions wrench the come from his body. She shuddered and twisted as he released thick ropes of his emission inside her, flooding her tight, quivering insides with his hot seed. Every time her toned muscles tightened, she forced more out of him, every fresh spurt of gelatinous come making her gasp and shiver. They were locked together in their shared ecstasy, Ursi's eyes darting between the two, trying to take it all in as she smirked and leered.

Finally Kaisha collapsed on top of Dennis, her breasts, though smaller than Ursi's, still ample enough to bury his face. Ursi ran her fingers through Kaisha's fur like a comb, and she trembled, taking in short gasps of breath.

Ursi pushed Kaisha's limp body off him unceremoniously, and draped her arm about his chest, leaning in to kiss his cheek.

"Ugh, you taste bad Dennis, why do you taste of come?"

"You did that..." He muttered, still recovering from his climax, his head resting on one of the many pillows.

"I liked that...I can see your semen leaking out of her." She chuckled and Dennis reddened.

"Ursi, you're outrageous when you're drunk."

He waited for her retort, then realized that she had fallen asleep, her heavy arm pinning him to the bed as her chest rose and fell gently. She drooled, wetting the mattress, the usually regal queen now lying in an undignified heap. He looked to Kaisha, unable to communicate with her except through expressions. She seemed to decide that she wanted to stay, perhaps through fear of being reprimanded for leaving before being properly dismissed, or maybe she was just tired. Dennis felt a little awkward as the stranger leaned up against his back, huddling for warmth as her breath tickled his neck. Ursi had been right, Kaisha was certainly skilled...and tight. He might take her up on her offer to bed Kaisha as he pleased, if it still stood when she was sober. Nestled between two warm, furry Borealans, their rhythmic breathing hypnotizing him, his eyes grew heavy and he joined them in their exhausted slumber.

Dennis was woken by movement, he opened his eyes groggily, unable to determine what time of day it was from inside the longhouse. The orange fires still crackled, and a few Borealans milled about here and there. Ursi was on his right, rubbing her eyes and shifting around, half buried in the pile of pillows. To his left Kaisha stirred, one of her long, furry arms draped over his chest. Ursi rose to a sitting position, a hand on her head. She groaned unhappily, glancing at Dennis, her vision bleary.

"Oh Dennis, my head hurts."

He yawned and patted her thigh apologetically.

"Hangover, you were probably the most drunk a Borealan has ever been. It'll fade in a few hours."

"I'm thirsty..."

She rose from the bed, making Dennis roll into Kaisha as her massive weight left the mattress and the springs rebounded. Kaisha opened her eyes, blue like her queen, and peered at him sleepily.

"S-sorry," he stammered, but she didn't speak English. She increased her grip on him, hugging him against her chest, her chubby breasts pressed against his face and her fluffy fur tickled his nose. She smelled good, not quite as perfumed as Ursi, but the same underlying musk he had begun to associate with their sordid encounters was present. Her warmth permeated his body, and her rhythmic breathing entranced him, he felt himself drifting off to sleep again.

Some time later he was woken by Kaisha gently withdrawing and leaving the bed, probably to perform some duty. He figured it was time to get up, he didn't want to become 'that human who sleeps all day'. He realized he was still filthy from the night before, and he felt a twinge of sly arousal in his groin as he remembered their drunken romp. He recovered his clothes from a pile on the floor and dressed, leaving the shadows of the far end of the longhouse to look for Ursi. He found her at a table, eating more mutton, her claws coated in juice, she was nursing a tall mug of water. He greeted her and sat beside her, clambering up onto one of the oversized, plastic stools.

"You stink of sex, Dennis," Ursi chuckled, then winced as her hangover flared. "Oh, Dennis, never let me have your burning drink ever again, I will stick to 'raises the hair' in the future."

"I dunno, you seemed to be having fun last night."

She took a draw from her wooden mug, then glanced at him apprehensively.

"I hope I did not do anything...unbecoming of a Queen."

"You'd have to ask Kaisha, she'd know better than me. But hey, it was a celebration, surely you're allowed one or two drunken orgies on special occasions."

Ursi laughed and took a bite of her mutton shank, cleaving a huge section of muscle away from the bone with her powerful jaws.

"I am just happy we are operational, the longhouse is finished, we have a source of fresh food, we can now begin to build the village and ship in more people, and for the first time in a very long while I...I can relax." She eyed him as she ate, chewing a mouthful with a smirk. "You should probably wash your face, there are cauldrons of clean water made from melted snow at the far end of the longhouse, check it is not hot before you touch it. As much as having you walk around with my name written all over you in pheromones turns me on, it is not too pleasant for the others."

Dennis blushed and hopped down off the stool, making his way over to the line of massive, cast iron cauldrons. A couple had fires lit under them, with an unlimited supply of fresh snow, the Borealans must cycle them constantly in order to produce a steady supply of water, the aliens were large and must consume a great deal.

He splashed water on his face, letting it fall on the dirt floor, then watched as a group of Borealans came in through the main door. A flood of cold air preceded them, it was a hunting party, carrying more sheep to the tables for preparation, the last to enter pushed the heavy doors shut. They were prolific trackers, after only one exploratory hunting trip they seemed to have the scent of the sheep, and could march straight to them, they could set out in the morning and return by the afternoon with a full haul of mutton and wool.

He finished washing and returned to Ursi, who had finished her meal and was stood by the table, stretching her arms up to full height.

"The pack will start work on their respective dwellings later today, it is not my responsibility. For now I have nothing to do. It is a strange feeling, Dennis. For as long as I can remember I have fought for my people, day in day out, negotiating treaties, traveling to meet dignitaries, trying to secure resources, settling disputes, what few moments of rest and leisure I had were few and far between. Now that I finally have the time to just sit down and unwind...I don't know what to do with myself."

"Want to come with me and tell the Navarin pilots they can leave now?"

She nodded, and followed him out of the longhouse. It really was well insulated, the Siberian cold hit him like a fist as they pushed through the wooden doors, marching through the deep snow towards the idle spacecraft. Ursi waited outside, not wanting to deal with the uncomfortable, cramped interior as Dennis mounted the ramp and made his way inside. He found the two pilots in the tiny mess hall, nursing bottles of liquor and finishing off a round of dry rations. They leapt to their feet when Dennis informed them that they could lift off, barely giving him a chance to thank them for their services as they scrambled to the cockpit. Dennis waved Ursi back as he descended the landing ramp, and the moment he was clear of the blast radius, the massive vessel whirred to life, melting the snow around it in a haze of steam as the engines flared and she lifted off the ground. They covered their ears, watching the spacecraft ascend on its thrusters to a sufficient altitude to engage the main engines, then shot off in a vertical curve towards space. They watched the contrails dissipate, then Dennis turned to Ursi.

"Well, there she goes. We're on our own now."

"This is the way I wanted it," she replied, shielding her eyes against the sun as the small pinpoints of light that betrayed the Navarin's engines grew faint in the sky.

"You need a flag," Dennis blurted abruptly.

"A what?"

"Your republic, it needs a flag. Every nation and region on Earth has a flag, if you don't have a flag you aren't a real republic."

"Oh, how does one make a flag?"

"Like a tapestry, you guys can do that, right?"

"I suppose so. I was going to have my people make a tapestry anyway, now that we have supplies of wool, commemorating our journey here and the founding of the republic. The walls of the longhouse are looking too bare for my liking."

"You have people here who can do that?"

"Yes, the skill is not as common as that of building shelters, but it is passed down through certain families."

"That sounds good, I suppose if the longhouse is going to be the cultural center of the village that will be built around it, it needs some decoration."

They walked back in the direction of the longhouse, the soil roof now covered in a layer of snow that camouflaged it against the surrounding terrain. He wondered idly if that was intentional, had the ancestors of the Polar Borealans feared attack, by other tribes, or perhaps predators, or was it just a byproduct of the insulation?

"I meant to ask you, Dennis. Do you require a private dwelling? If so, I can order one be built for you."

"Oh, I was under the impression I would be living with you," he said, craning his neck to look up at Ursi as they waded through the deep snow.

"If that is what you wish, I would be happy to increase the size of the dwelling I plan to have built for myself, in order to accommodate you."

"I guess human and Borealan romances are a little different, humans pair for life, ideally. Well, we don't, not commonly, but...it's complicated. Anyway, what I'm trying to say is, I want to stay with you...for good."

The crisp snow crunched under his boots, and the chill wind ruffled his hair as they walked, he continued, rubbing his hands together to drive off the cold.

"I know that you had more than one reason for getting involved with me, and I always kind of of felt as if, as much as we enjoy each other's company, when your problem was solved and your new colony was established you might just...lose interest in me."

"Dennis," Ursi said, stopping in the snow and placing her large, furry hand on his shoulder. "I am not humoring you, nor am I doing this because I feel that I owe you a debt, or because you are useful to me as a diplomat. I admit that when I first met you, I believed that you had far more influence and power than you actually did. I thought that if I could seduce you, you might defect and provide me with the ships and technology I felt I needed at the time. When I discovered that you were, in fact, far less influential than Elysiedde would have the Regents believe, I was ready to give up."

She squeezed his shoulder, looking down at him with her blue eyes.

"But you, Dennis, you cared about our plight. You learned the ways and customs of our people, not because your position required it of you, but through your own curiosity. You came to love my people, and you offered what help you could give, of your own volition. Even going against the wishes of your employers in the process. You saved us, and you didn't do it because I seduced you, or because your government told you to, but because you thought it was right."

She hooked her hands under his arms and lifted him from the snow, his boots dangling in the air as she pressed him against her chest, embracing him in a warm hug. Her breath was hot in his hair, and she spoke more softly now, almost comforting.

"You are a small, unassuming creature, Ambassador Carlisle, but your heart is as large as that of any Borealan, and you are welcome to stay with me for as long as you wish."

CHAPTER 5: HOMESTEADING

Over the next few days, the Borealans split off into small groups, each choosing a location for their log cabins, clustered vaguely around the longhouse. They used similar methods as they had used to build the original structure, albeit the going was much faster on such a smaller scale. There seemed to be no real organization, the Borealans milled about, helping where they felt it was appropriate. It wasn't uncommon to see one member of the pack working on a log wall in the morning, only to find that someone had taken his place later in the afternoon, and he was now lining a roof with bark on the other side of the growing village.

Dennis couldn't provide much help, being too short and weak to carry armfuls of logs or leap up onto rafters, but he stripped bark, and help prepare food, the whole affair was oddly emergent. Ursi didn't do much work herself, mostly supervising the construction of her own cabin, it was situated directly beside the longhouse and was of an impressive size compared to many of the others.

When he couldn't help with construction, Dennis worked on the flag design, using an image editor on Ursi's tablet computer to experiment with shapes and colors, trying to think of something that would properly represent the new republic and its people.

The Borealans had a massive store of meat and furs now, a new hunting party ventured out at least every other day, and each night another feast was held. None quite as extravagant as the first, but the Borealans ate an incredible volume of meat to sustain themselves. Ursi was indulging a little too much, perhaps bored, or maybe enjoying her leisure time. Her already substantial bust now strained against the thin fabric of her clothing that kept it in check, and the subtle paunch of her belly was now protruding conspicuously over her waistline. She carried the weight well, her feminine figure distributing it to her hips, ass and chest, but it couldn't be healthy for her.

Ursi was sat at one of the plastic tables, the gaudy, yellow stool she was sitting creaking under her considerable weight. Her carpenters had begun to carve real, wooden furniture now that they had surfaces to work on, but replacing the furnishings in the longhouse was not a priority. The stools and tables they were making were for the private cabins, and the Borealans would make do with the plastic furnishings the Russians had provided for the time being.

She hooked a slab of mutton in her claws and dragged it across the surface of the table, leaving a trail of juice in its wake. Ursi demolished the huge mass of dripping meat, staining her fur with its oils, then leaned on the table, taking a drag from her long pipe, the fragrant smoke rising in the warm air.

"You know Ursi, you should really start to moderate what you eat. This isn't Borealis, you're not burning calories just walking around, and the climate here is a lot warmer."

He leaned back in his seat, appraising her butt, tight and shapely against her clothing, overflowing over the edge of her stool. She caught him looking and smirked, jiggling in her seat.

"Borealans are a hardy people Dennis, it is not unhealthy for us to become fat, besides..." She leaned closer and whispered suggestively." You can't seem to keep your hands to yourself."

"Be that as it may," he muttered, loosening his collar conspicuously as her massive breasts rested on the edge of the table, deforming as their weight spread, "you should at least lay off the fast food. It might feel small and light to a Borealan, but humans pack their foods with fat and salt, I don't think you appreciate how unhealthy it is."

Ursi eyed him skeptically, cleaning juice off her furry fingers with her textured tongue.

"Come now Dennis, you worry too much. I am perfectly capable of managing my health, and my eating habits."

The Russians had delivered the first shipment of the gravity sickness medication by cargo shuttle, it would strengthen their bones, help prevent muscle atrophy, lower their blood pressure, and deal with many of the odd ailments that afflicted those who lived in lower gravity than for which they had evolved. People living on Mars and Luna had done so for generations with few ill effects once a medical solution had been found. Along with the medical supplies, they had delivered more food upon request from Ursi. Dennis had seen no harm in Ursi sampling more human dishes and exploring alien cuisine, he had done as much on his trip to Borealis, however her request had eventually been revealed to be an entire crate of cheeseburgers. She had taken a liking to them after the celebratory feast, and he now somewhat regretted introducing her to junk food.

They were small enough compared to her exaggerated height that she treated them as snacks, and not as the calorie bombs that they were. At least she would run out eventually, and then he might be able to prevent her from acquiring more. Borealans ate when they were hungry, until they were full. It was unlikely to ever become a problem in the high gravity of Borealis, when Dennis had visited he had never seen an obese Borealan, they were all built like Olympians and champion weight lifters, simply walking on Borealis incurred a cost in calories and built muscle mass. Even though Ursi was gaining weight, her underlying muscles were still incredibly powerful, and would probably remain so for years until the muscle atrophy caught up with her.

It only took a few more days for their cabin to be completed, it was small and rustic compared to Ursi's vacation home in Elysia, but it was cozy, and as he and Ursi closed the door behind them, he felt as if he were truly alone with her for the first time in a while. The log cabin had a single floor, but several rooms, and was spacious compared to most of the dwellings the pack were erecting. The longhouse served as a dining room and a place for the Borealans to congregate and interact, so there was no food preparation area in the cabin, no dining area, and no place where one might entertain guests. It was mostly just a living space and a bedroom. Dennis peeked his head around the corner and was delighted to see a single, massive bed carved from wood, piled with pillows, blankets and furs in the way that Ursi preferred. They would be sharing a bed, in private, for the foreseeable future. In the middle of the main living area was a traditional fire, ringed with stones and smoking lazily through a small hole in the roof, the relatively small space was warmed easily by the dancing flames.

Dennis was beside himself, the unexpected sense of wellbeing and happiness almost overcame him as he realized they had a home together now. As a lowly attorney operating out of a law firm, before he went to Borealis he had mostly been confined to either an office cubicle in one of the towering skyscrapers that brutalized the skyline of Earth's sprawling cities, or his apartment, similarly located many floors above the ground in a minute, cramped space that even a sardine would complain was too confining. His job had never allowed for a serious relationship, cohabitation required a time consuming, expensive process of courting and entertaining, along with the means to actually afford a space in which two people could reasonably live. Coupled with his lack of success with women, he had never lived with another person since graduating law school.