Title: The White Bear and the Walrus
Author: Strega
© 2003
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The white bear and the walrus

By Strega

The walrus lay in his icy cove and brooded.

Just around the point of land from where he lay was a larger icy expanse, and that stretch was thick with other walruses. Fat, brooding females, huge scarred males guarding their territories, and along the very edge the occasional young male like himself looking longingly inward.

It wasn't safe to go any further toward the center. Though the youths like himself weighed more than a ton, they were still dwarfed by the dominant bulls. Approaching close enough to even take a sniff of a cow was asking for a mauling, and more than one youngster died each mating season trying to do just that. Yet the temptation was all but irresistible. If the dominant bull grew too distracted, a young male might manage to lure a female at the edge of the harem into the water and into mating.

But not often. Eventually, the adolescents would give up...and that's what he had done. He lay in a narrow icy channel hardly large enough for even one of his kind, pointed his head at the water and brooded. One day he would be large enough to fight for dominance, and then he would have his own harem of nubile walrus-cows.

Unfortunately, separating himself from the herd (and the scent of cow) wasn't keeping his thoughts from the females. Though too small to gain access to the cows, he was sexually mature and extremely ready to mate. Even now, his peculiar member was stiff. Not that it was ever anything else: the last twenty inches of his shaft were reenforced by his oosik. That bone was more than an inch thick and eighteen long, surrounded by erectile tissue but never limp even when he was calm. At its base this rigid member connected via a flexible joint to an even thicker cylinder of flesh. This part wasn't meant to enter the female, but allowed the member to bend despite its strong inner bone.

He wasn't calm now, and the itch of lust was too strong to resist. Rolling to the side, he inched himself down the icy slope as his need increased. As his flippers entered the water and the fluid buoyed his lower body, his forward flippers reached down to cradle the thick, stiff pink member as it emerged. Clapping his flippers -- greatly evolved 'hands' still nearly as nimble as such despite their ruddery shapes -- around the shaft, he humped his lower body, pushing his tender cock against the tough flipperhide. It was a shameless display, but there was no one to see --


"Huh?" He looked around, swiveling his rounded head on its thick neck. About fifty feet away in the icy cleft was a white creature, rounded and fat with a pointed muzzle. A polar bear!

Without thinking he pushed off into the water, swollen member forgotten. He turned for the open sea: polar bears swam strongly, but they couldn't outswim a walrus.

"Wait!" The bear hadn't moved. Still fifty feet from the water's edge, it stood there staring at him. Now that he had a safe moment to look, he noticed how fat the bear was. Rolls of fat turned a normally streamlined white bear into an almost walrus-like bulk. This bear must have weighed nearly as much as he!

"Why should I wait?" He paddled idly with his front flippers, keeping his place in the cold water. Already his penis had retreated into its sheath: the cold water was much less pleasant than the warm interior of a walrus cow. He'd mated only once before and that had been in the water, but his shaft had been exposed to the chill only briefly before sliding home. That was another reason for the thicker base: it had enough flesh to withstand the cold water while the rest impregnated the cow. "I know what you want."

"No you don't." The bear tilted its head to the side. "You think I want to eat you. That wasn't what I was thinking about." The heavy bear, relatively small for its kind but immensely fat, waddled slowly around until it faced away. Even from this distance, he saw that it was a female. "I thought you might try to make cubs with me."

"Hah! You just want to get me close so you can bite and claw me." Still, he paddled closer. Fat and round as she was, the bear did look a bit like a walrus cow. The impression increased as she lay down, stretching out her hind legs like a cow's hind flippers. Now he could see her sex clearly, and although he couldn't fool himself into thinking it was a cow there, the itch of lust returned. "You must think I'm stupid."

"No." The short bear tail flagged, and her hind paws stirred. "I think you're better than a bear male. Bigger. I saw you playing." Rolls of furry fat trembled as the bear sprawled out flat.

Could she move at all quickly now? No, he didn't think so. He found his flippers on the ice once more as the itch intensified.

"You're bigger than I am. You have your tusks," she said reasonably. "I just want to feel you in me. Come up behind me and put your tusks on my back. If I do anything wrong you can...yes, like that."

Against his better judgement, he'd crept up onto the ice, and his tusks jabbed into soft, fat-padded white fur. Walruses usually mated in the water, but still he inched his way up beside her. He flinched as she stirred, but it was just to roll onto her side, and he clasped her fat bulk between his foreflippers as he curled his lower parts around --

"Hhhurrr." The white bulk vibrated as the bone-stiffened tip found her sex. Tugging himself up beside her, he pushed himself all the way in. Nervous, he was still as limp as a walrus could get, but the massive oosik gave him the stiffness to push in. And even limp she was tight. That tightness only grew as two full feet of him filled her: she was hot and wet and slippery, and even as he entered her, he swelled inside her sex.

"Oh...yes. That's right. Now, more, push more...rrrrr." Without turning toward him (for his bladelike tusks were against her nape), she pushed downward, sheathing even more of himself into her. Now it was so tight that he could hardly move his shaft. Move it he did, though, his lower body humping to thrust in and out. Tighter and tighter, hotter and hotter.

The she-bear moaned, pushing back against him as he drove into that impossible tightness. The joint where oosik connected to thicker root flexed, his cock bent at its 'elbow' each time he withdrew. He didn't want to, but he had to pull back to ready each new thrust. He thrust, pulled back, thrust, gripping her furry fatness between his foreflippers. Soft, tight heat pressed in all around his shaft, stroking it both on entry and withdrawal. As ready as he'd been before she appeared the end was not long in coming.

"Ooooww." His flippers twitched as his seed passed copiously into her. It was every bit as pleasant as the time he'd mated with a cow, and he thrust powerfully as his semen left his body and entered hers. It only took a few seconds for his passion to pass. As the shuddering lust faded, he relaxed his flipper-grip and made to withdraw.

"Wait," the she-bear said, and curled her lower legs around his hind flippers to hold him close. "It wasn't enough. I want more. Surely you have more."

As she held his lower body close, she tugged with her hindpaws. His oosik, inflexible and unable to withdraw, began once more to move through her wet tightness. His already spent seed helped lubricate the clenching tightness, and in moments he felt the itch return. His shaft never shrank, and soon he was putting to with enthusiasm.

It was much slower this time. He moved himself through that wet tightness, oosik-stiff and swollen hard around that, and matched her moans with his own grunts. The minutes went by as they lay on the ice, her furry fat jiggling and his brown-skinned blubber matching the movement.

Fifteen minutes before, he'd filled her with his seed. Now he readied himself to do it again, and clasped her ever tighter in his foreflippers. Each grunt was louder, and each of her moans. Now she was saying, over and over, "More."

And he gave her more. He gave her all he had, ramming the thicker root up against her sex and filling her with stiff shaft and stiffer oosik. The shuddering spasm began again, and he held the writhing bear sow in his flippers and filled her once more with his seed. The passion was, if anything, more pleasant than the first time, and he gave out a shuddering bellow as he came.

As his passion ebbed, he found himself belly to belly with the sow. She had twisted as he ejaculated, and her fat, powerful forepaws were tight around his thick body. "Don't go," she moaned. "You must have a little more...?"

He put his tusk points against her throat. "Let me go. I don't have any more." Her shiny black eyes looked back, half closed and still full of need, Those black eyes, black nosepad and equally shiny black clawtips poking out of fluffy pawfur were the only variety in her white pelt. No, that wasn't true: he knew her sex was black-lipped, for he's seen it before he mounted. "I gave you what you wanted."

She pushed her chin against the ivory. "Just once more. It was almost enough." All four of her legs pulled at him, and again she forced his shaft in and out. His oosik couldn't withdraw, and though the erectile tissue around it wanted to shrink, the smooth warmth still pulsing around it convinced it otherwise. She wouldn't relent but rather kept humping him, taking his erection in and out of herself.

"Come on. Let go!" He pressed his flippers against her body. He was bigger, but her four paws all held him tight and forced him to couple. She was stronger than he was out of water, and unless he slashed her with his tusks, he wasn't going to break that grip. And gradually, against his will, the urge to mate returned. Breathing hard after his two previous matings, he first pushed against her, then eventually gave in and clasped her against him. Her soft, fur-covered fat was surprisingly pleasant against his wrinkled belly, and he let her pull him in close. She was doing all the work this time, and though he'd never felt passion three times in one day, he felt certain he'd find another helping of seed for her.

This time it was she who was approaching her passion first: he could feel the wet sex clenching around his oosik-stiffened shaft. He was swelling to full erection once more, and the hot tightness was still there, but he had ejaculated so voluminously the last two times that there was ample lubrication. Weary as he was, he began to thrust back against her, grinning around his tusks as she love-nipped his whiskery muzzle.

"Still want more? I have more!" Pressing his hind flippers against the ice, he thrust. Again his entire shaft went in, the thicker root pressing against the entry to her sex. "Hhh, I have more." With a series of heavy thrusts, he worked the root -- as thick as a man's knee -- into her. Even this fit, if still more tightly, and he hadn't hit her bottom yet. "Bear males must be long." They must have endless endurance too, for his spent shaft had been in her for many minutes of this third mating and she still wanted more.

She wasn't listening. The entry of the root stretched her as she hadn't been since her last litter, and the thick, thrusting walrus shaft filled the rest of her ever so tightly. Moaning, she wrapped her forepaws around his neck and pulled, biting lovingly around his broad whiskery face. Fangs scraped his chops and her chin pushed his tusks down against his neck as she shuddered, pulled, shuddered.

Her muzzle stretched wide, accepting his whole whiskered muzzle in its gape, and her forepaws locked tight behind his neck as her passion grew. The kiss became more intense as her whole body stiffened. Tremors ran through her furry fat as her moment approached --

He shut his eyes and leaned into the thrusts, and with a low, shuddering growl the bear sow climaxed. Her sex pulsed flesh-tight around his embedded shaft, and powerful muscular ripples massaged his penis. As her heat washed over his cock, her sex nearly milked a third load of seed out of his depleted body. But he wasn't quite ready to follow her into orgasm. He gripped her between his foreflippers and thrust to meet her passion, but when her ardor cooled he opened his eyes and made to keep thrusting. Soon he too would feel his passion --

Except that when he opened his eyes, all was still black. Why was it so dark? And these points pressing into his head and chin...her kiss had grown so ardent she had inadvertently yawned over his entire broad muzzle and bitten down. Her chops covered his eyes, and so it was dark. But that was easy to remedy: without stopping his increasingly enjoyable thrusts, he blinked into the darkness and pulled his head back.

When her jaws followed along, he thought her still caught in her post-orgasmic haze. Naturally she'd let his head loose, and he'd thrust to completion. He pushed against her softly furry body, warning her to let go so he'd be free to finish this third coupling.

But she did not let go. Her forepaws kept that same tight grip on his thick neck, and without allowing him to withdraw, she pushed her muzzle forward. Gaping still wider -- impossibly wide now -- she worked her lips over his entire head, forcing his tusks down against his neck. He couldn't move them at all now, and he pressed his flippers harder against the distracted sow. "Come on, let go. You got what you wanted, and I'm almost done."

It wasn't until her maw worked fully over his head that he realized there was something wrong. Her mouth was open so wide that his rounded head fit inside her cheeks, his tusks pressed against his own neck, and as his chin came to rest on her tongue she swallowed. Her long, muscular tongue pressed backward against his lower jaw, and her throat opened like a pulsing sphincter to accept his muzzle and skull. Wet, smooth flesh clutched at his cheeks, much like the grip her sex still had on his shaft, but this rhythmic pulse wasn't pleasant. It was a hot, sucking grip that pulled his whole whiskery muzzle and bullet head into her gullet and trapped his tusks between his neck and her lower jaw.

"Now wait --" His voice was so muffled even he could barely understand it -- "What are you doing?" As her fangs dragged along his tough-skinned neck and his head sank deeper into her throat he pushed hard against her furry fat. He couldn't keep from thrusting into her sex still, since he was getting very close to a third bout of shuddering lust, but he pushed against her as hard as he could. "Stop!" Hot saliva ran down his neck from her lips, which were wrapped around his thick brown neck and moving along by inches as she swallowed: her tongue was busy on his hide, licking him slick as he continued to slip into her gullet.

She didn't stop. Her own fat, furry neck swelled around the bulk of walrus-head, and his thick neck began to follow it into her maw. Her paws had an uncontestable grip on his wrinkled nape, and she held him helplessly close and worked her insanely stretched jaws gradually over his hide. Through his growing lust, he felt the rhythmic pulsation travelling down her throat as she swallowed. He realized now that this was no accident of passion, no game. Very deliberately, if slowly, this bear sow was swallowing him whole.

It was impossible. Even the thought was ludicrous. He was larger than she was, even counting her rolls of fat! But his head was moving through the loose pelt and fat of her neck, swelling it into a great rounded bulge, and even when his neck expanded out into his smoothly rounded body, she didn't stop. She simply yawned wider and pushed his growing thickness past her fangs and into her gullet.

If he'd seen her from the outside just then, he'd have remarked how her neckfur stretched thin. Smooth, tough black skin underneath showed through as her neck stretched grossly around him, and her gullet muscles pulsed visibly beneath the hide as she swallowed massively. Slowly, with infinite difficulty but without stopping, she worked her jaws over his upper body, swallowing every few seconds to keep him moving smoothly down his throat.

He began to struggle, but two things slowed his effort. First, his foreflippers were already nearly pinned against his body. He'd paused in disbelief for too long, and she had the upper third of his body down the pulsing heat of her gullet. Only his flipper-tips protruded from her thinly stretched black lips.

The second: despite his growing fear, his lust was too far along to stop. Fifty minutes after his first ejaculation and 35 after the second, his hind flippers arched his lower body up against hers and rammed oosik, flesh and root deep into the sow. Tight ursine sex gripped his sensitive shaft, squeezing it so pleasantly as the semen passed through that he lay in a shivering stupor for long seconds. It felt so good....

The rest of what was happening was not so good. The fat bear sow had his head inside her rounded body now, and his senses were muffled by a foot of muscle and bone with a foot more of fat on top of that. The enfolding flesh pulsed and sucked at him as she swallowed, the rhythmic contractions washing over him and urging him slowly deeper. Her white fur stretched and rippled, fat bouncing as her forepaws kept gripping another few inches of him and cramming them into her maw. Even with nearly half of him down her throat, she was flexible, and she curled down over herself and worked her lips further along his body. She was to his thickest point now, and trapped in the clenching flesh of her throat and weak from his passion he was helpless to resist. All he could hope was that she'd be unable to finish him. After all, how credible was it that a white bear, however fat, could engulf a walrus larger than herself?

All too credible, unfortunately. His spent shaft finally left her sex, spilling his last seed along her white belly. It pulled upward as she stretched herself straight, then drew gradually closer to her lips. Swollen grotesquely but in no apparent pain, the sow stretched, swallowed, stretched, swallowed, working herself slowly over the remains of her meal as though she were serpent rather than bear. More and more of her furry hide stretched to reveal black skin, but she did not stop. She swallowed until his head slipped free of clenching gullet and into the looser folds of her stomach, and that was like the start of an avalanche. Before he could even think about jabbing his tusks into her belly wall, the next gulp pushed his neck in after. The stomach folded tight around his face and whiskers, given strength by the foot-thick wall of fat behind the walls, and the sow swallowed him down faster and faster. Her stomach had the intense smell of seal meat, and that of bears as well. "Bears?" He pushed his head against the slime-coated wall, knowing she couldn't possibly hear him now. "She eats bears too?"

He felt his spent shaft bump past her lower jaw, bend at the root-joint and slide into her throat. The pulsing tunnel of gullet gripped his long, wrinkled, streamlined bulk, squeezing him downward, and he was helpless to save himself. He just lay there breathing heavily as she gulped him down.

The fat-lined belly stretched around him as more of her meal -- him -- arrived, then stretched still more. He was larger than her entire torso, head and limbs together, but still her gut expanded to let more of him in. His fingered hind-flippers passed into her jaws, into her throat, and she swallowed them down with the same heartless hunger she'd shown since she climaxed.

Entirely wrapped in her fatty bulk now, he lay partly in her stomach as the gullet's powerful musculature sent the rest of him down her throat. Resistance was now useless, but he wriggled anyway, trying to make the meal as difficult as he could. And perhaps he slowed the progress fractionally, but still her throat squeezed its muscular walls around his tail and lower body, and like a wet fish gripped too tightly his lower body slid out of that tightness and into the hot, welcoming ursine belly.

Whimpering, he curled in her outlandishly stretched gut. Now he had enough room to fight, and he pressed his flippers against the stomach's interior. But layers of mucus covered the tough muscular walls, rendering them too slippery to grip, and behind those walls were layers of strong muscle and padding fat. Even stretched thin around his bulk, there was six inches of bear sow between him and the outside world. That thickness pressed inward, resisting his efforts to escape, and he couldn't clear a space large enough for his tusks to slash or stab.

Gradually he lost the strength to struggle. It was very hot inside the bear, and while that'd been infinitely pleasant when only his member was in her, he was a creature of the arctic. Day in, day out he lay on ice or in frigid water, not in a sweltering hothouse of flesh and slime. Though a volume of air had been gulped down with him and was still fit to breathe, heat and exhaustion took its toll. By the time her digestive juices began to sting his tough hide, he was drifting in and out of consciousness. And soon after that, he slept the last sleep, lulled by the heavy pulse throbbing through the surrounding walls.


The white bear belched.

She stretched on the ice, bloated and exhausted, and it was neither the first belch nor the last to emerge from this meal. She was cold, too. So stretched was her body around her immense meal that her fur couldn't cover all of her, and the icy chill stung her skin. But she endured.

The last twitches from within herself told her the walrus had passed on. This had been by far her largest meal, but years of practice and her particular mutation had made even this vast engulfment possible. Her half ton of fat had been built up from seal, then from brown and black bears (many of whom, like the walrus, had mated with her before discovering her true intent), then finally a few fellow polar bears who had annoyed her into disregarding their species. Each had passed down the clenching tunnel of gullet to dissolve in her gut, and this fat fin-footed male would dissolve just as they had.

Another huge belch gurgled up out of her, and she smiled. He had been a most pleasant lover, every bit as large as she had heard. He'd been quick by bear standards, and it'd been necessary to induce him to mate three times before she'd had her pleasure. With her bear meals, pleasure was secondary and often disregarded. Oh, they had theirs, spilling their seed into her one or more times, but her aim was always to weary them so they couldn't escape when she sent them down her throat. With the walrus....

Slowly she dragged herself out of the icy cleft. The walrus had been so large that she'd wanted, no, needed to have her pleasure. It had been something special, that huge bone-reenforced shaft. Now it and he lay within her, and even though her fatty bulk the shape of walrus was unmistakable. That shape would gradually soften, then vanish as digestion progressed. Eventually there'd be nothing left but the new addition to her fat reserves, and perhaps a fond memory.

A huge snowbank provided shelter, and she dug herself into it and out of sight. Her hide with its now thinly stretched pelt could stand the snow better than it could freezing air, and as the snow collapsed around her it concealed her entirely. A last swipe of her paw dragged the bank down atop her last exposed bits, and she stretched out to digest her meal and reflect.

The last bit of his air, exhaled from lifeless lungs, bubbled up as a belch. Now there was just the low gurgle as he belly worked on this largest meal. It'd take days to digest this mass of fat and muscle and bone. He'd add a hundred pounds or more to her weight, another layer of fat for her already waddling bulk. How fortunate that she rarely needed to chase her prey.

"I didn't lie." Her words were as muffled by the snow as his last ones had been by her body. "I wasn't thinking about eating you. I wanted you in me. I knew that only afterward would I...have more of you in me." Hidden by the snow, she smiled.

When she finally finished digesting this young and lusty walrus, passing his remains from her body and retaining the rest as fat, she'd go hunting again. She'd cleaned out the supply of brown and black bears: nearly every one for twenty miles had slid down her throat over the last few years. She didn't like to eat other polar bears, though two or three had added to her fat. And she was above eating simple seal, now. They could sate her appetite, but the pinnipeds were dull meals.

But walrus! The herds of walrus would not soon diminish. There would always be the dominant bulls, and their harems, and the males on the outskirts looking in. There would always be the frustrated males who left the herd for privacy.

And she would be there for them. She would give them what they wanted, let them discharge their lust for their mutual pleasure. And then she would have the other thing she wanted.

And put on a little more fat.

The End