Emperor Penguin Saves Scientist.

Log-entry_701207: The team left on the journey towards main base. We farewell’d each other thoroughly all through the morning like it would be a big thing. It would be only a week that we are apart after all, the time it takes to travel between this station and main base and send second team back to relief me. We have only one snow crawler at our disposal after that unfortunate event with Snow Worm last month. I volunteered to stay behind as the crawler can’t hold us all. Someone needs to look after the station, and some alone time occasionally isn’t that bad either.

Log-entry_701208: Main base warned me about approaching snow storm. Looks like team left just in time to avoid it. Been securing equipment most of the day, can’t afford to lose radio connection or power blackout. While I was working outside, I noticed small herd of local birdlife gathering at the nearby hill. They peek over it randomly and keep distance, so there isn’t much to observe for spending time.

Log-entry_701209: The storm arrived at night. Outside floodlights are swallowed by the darkness and snow, wind howls like Wendigo riding on washing machine. I’m starting to regret staying behind. Pylons creak ominously. I may have to risk the weather, if something breaks.

Paul pushes himself backwards from the terminal, office chair rolling across the floor. It wasn’t his first snow storm, but no one wants to be stranded alone at night in Antarctica. Not even climate researcher who applied for this station for three years. The hole in ozone layer was rapidly closing and hopefully nothing like it would ever appear again, so this was excellent time to learn about it while it still existed. It was like observing extinct animal, or something. He never was that good to explain why he wanted to isolate himself in the frigid nether of mother earth.

Paul leans back, staring at the ceiling as the wind howls through the walls. The station was short of a bunker, he had no fear for his life, but the pylons outside may not withstand the winds and piling snow. Backup energy cells were loaded to full, but you really want to rely on those when you are out of other options. Once they drain out, you freeze faster child’s tongue on frozen pole. Bouncing stress ball against the ceiling, Paul drifts into monotonic state of mind. It’s interesting how human mind demands constant stimulus or it zone outs and starts to ignore details around it. Like warning messages.

-zzzzzziiipp-

The emergency lighting activates as the backup power comes online. Paul falls of his chair, bumping his back on the chairs legs before it rolls out under him. The power grid had failed. Backup would keep life-support going for hours, but how long the storm is going to last? He scrambles up to his feet and hurries to the terminal.

POWER OFFLINE. CONSTRUCT ADDITIONAL PYLONS TO MAINTAIN ENERGY PRODUCTION.

“Great.” Paul slams his forehead against the table. The wind and snow must have tilted them enough to cut the connection to the power grid. If it wasn’t anything worse than this, he could fix it. If the temperature wouldn’t be bazillion degrees under zero and wind blowing with equal speed.

“Option one; wait to the storm to pass and dig pylons out under meter of snow. Option two; go outside and get turned to snowman. Option four; reroute backup power to pylons, reconfigure power generation, loop excess energy to quantum field and use magnetic coils to kickstart self-sustaining cold fusion. Expect I don’t have sonic wrench nor British accent.”

Paul weights his life choices. It’s better to try option two and retreat to option one than other way round. He pulls another layer of clothing on top of his sweater and pants before zipping up his thick winter coat. Ski mask, woolen cap, scarf, insulated goggles. Three layers of mittens under leather gloves. Michelin-man was still a joke among them when they geared up for field work. Only reason they don’t have space suits is that the board of directors said NASA wouldn’t sell them. Military grade equipment shouldn’t be available to private companies’ decade before it’s time or something. Nevertheless, Paul pulled every piece of warm clothing on him, already looking like a snowman even before stepping out. He opens the tool kit and secures high-luminosity torch on his quilted jacket. Not that it will help that much if the floodlights are getting swallowed. With cumbersome large gloved finger, Paul taps door controls. Luckily, they were designed for this purpose, looking comically large. There is no need to pick anything besides the tools. Paul chuckles as he remembers his mother fuzzing about how he is getting eaten by polar bear. Southern pole doesn’t have apex predators. Large beasts like polar bears and Yetis live on north. Only Selkies could provide danger, but they don’t appear this far inland. Only Penguins and Shoggoths here. Another inside joke of the team. Calling the distant mountain range ‘The Mountains of Madness’, filled with Shoggoths living in ancient ruins. “I hope I didn’t just jinxed myself…”

Paul needs to give the door hydraulics a hand, and a shoulder, the snow having already piled up at the platform. As soon he closes the door behind him, the freezing wind invades his clothes, slipping between them and generally getting too intimate with him. Maybe option one was wiser after all. The floodlights barely light the walkways, darkness cradling the station. Paul begins to slowly shuffle towards pylons, following the led-marked walkway. As long everything works, there is no risk of getting lost even in these conditions. The station is like shopping district during holiday season. Everything is lighted with leds and glow-in-dark guidelines. Given you can see through your goggles. Paul needs to wipe them every tenth meter, blizzard trying to blow him off his footing. Shuffle, shuffle, shuffle, stop, clean goggles, grab guideline, repeat.

Until the guideline can’t be found.

It was right there moment ago. He double-checked them during day. They all were in good condition. Storm shouldn’t be able to sever them. No problem. Stay calm. Just carefully backtrack few steps, it should be there again.

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An hour later Paul begins to accept his is royally screwed. He can’t feel most of his limbs, the goggles are completely frozen, he doesn’t have strength to stand straight anymore. The snow is knee deep, layer of ice forming on him every time he stops moving, no sight of light in any direction. The fear is real. Not like this. Too ironic. You are not going to be found frozen solid right outside the station. Keep moving, keep moving.

Paul’s inner monologue is interrupted as something touches his hand. Something that pulls rather, since he can’t feel his fingers. Guideline? No, that doesn’t pull you. But nobody lives here. An animal? Dragging his soon-to-be corpse in its cave? But here aren’t any predators. Death? But only his bones are rattling, from cold. Does it even matter? Paul fatigued mind gives in to the mysterious figure pulling him.

Groggy, Paul opens his eye. What happened? There was a storm, he went outside, got lost and… Someone pulled him to safety. A cave. Paul blinks to clear his vision. He is staring at rock ceiling, so he is in some kind of cave. His whole body feels heavy and tired. Like something was lying on top of him. And shortly after adorable sigh coming below his chin confirms this thought. Paul lowers his gaze to notice someone in fact lying on top of him. A girl? No, a Penguin-Harpy. Emperor Penguin? Was it her who saved him? But so far all the penguins have avoided the researchers and stayed away on their flocks. There doesn’t seem to be other penguins in the cave either. Is she a loner? Paul blinks again, he considers rubbing his eyes, but he doesn’t want to move yet. The penguin, the girl seems to be still sleeping on top of him and he doesn’t want to wake her up yet. Besides, it’s not that bad either. She feels warm and soft. Did she shared her body heat to save him? She lets out adorable voice again and tilts her head upwards, opening her eyes. Whatever Paul was about to do or say, vanishes from his mind. He can only stare at the girl’s eyes as they focus on his.

They sparkle like frozen plains on clear day, the ice-blue of the world around her reflecting from her big eyes. They are so pure and clear, like the air of the Antarctica. Paul can see the vast snow-covered plains, deep blue icy waters, distant mountains shining against sunlight. Her whole world reflects from her eyes. Paul feels chill overtaking him, a realization they are only visitors on this beautiful, white world of ice and snow. His breath was taken when he had first arrived at the Antarctica, but this was so much more intense feeling. No diamond in the world could compare to these jewels looking directly at him.
The spell is broken as she finally blinks and smiles at Paul.

“You are awake.” She says happily, flock of hair eloping over her eye. She sidles to a bit more comfortable position, still laying on top of Paul. It’s only now he realizes he has been stripped of his clothes. With this realization, storm of sensations flood his mind. The rock bed under the mattress made-up of his clothes pressing against his back, the cold air tickling his toes, but more importantly her softness, how she envelopes his body with her own, the feeling of her feathers gently brushing against his skin, sending shivers down his spine. Her hair brushing over his chest as she tilts her head, those big, sparkly eyes looking him puzzled as Paul tries to keep straight face. Her breasts… her breasts gush everywhere. Paul gulps hard. Naturally she needs to be naked too to share the body head. More he tries not to think about it, more his eyes wander all over her. Her hair curls up at the tips, just long enough to drag once gaze to her scapula, which leads down to her spine, ending in the short, feathery tail resting on top of the large, round, soft butt. Paul gulps again as he conquers the butt with his eyes, climbing the peak only to slide down to her hips. And what a long slide it is. Her hips spread past his with ease, competing with her shoulders. Pear-shaped only begins to describe her as she lays on top of him.

“Are you thirsty? You have been gulping pretty hard for a moment now.” She asks, same smile still plastered to her rosy cheeks. Before Paul manages to answer, she raises up and reaches somewhere over his head. The breasts, which earlier gushed everywhere, now hang freely right in front of his face. The round lumps of fat with perky nipples swinging at mouths reach. Should she lean anymore forth, they would smother him in marshmallow goodness. Paul fights the urge to reach out, grab them, squeeze them, suckle them. And the fragrance. Mix of sweetness, musk, sweat, oils. The cold, Antarctic air enhancing sense of smell, Paul has never sniffed anything like this.

“Here.” She sits down, on his waist, and offers a cup. It goes ignored as Paul focuses on what else she is offering; a view to her frontal figure. The breasts that stole his focus rest now nicely on her chest, jiggling on pace with her breath. Below them is a plump belly, complementing the theme of softness her body has. It begs to be kneaded, lovingly groped by the love handles. A belly button that asks for teasing, being kissed and blown raspberries. And what peeks under the plump belly? A tuff of hair. Paul gives his hardest gulp so far, drawn towards the temptation of finale of his visual exploration. Tuff of pubic hair, same shade as her hair. Crowning her delicate cave entrance, her glistering sex, equally plump labia. Sitting on him, her pudgy thighs spread wide, she offers full view to her pink lips.

Paul breaths deep and heavily. He can’t apart his gaze from her innermost place. She is a penguin, an animal, a beast. She saved his life by dragging him to her cave. She just offered her solicitude. Harpies are helpful towards humans, they just want to be friendly and sympathetic. They have no understanding of human customs or personal spaces. She just found you on the snow and wanted to warm you. Penguin Harpies mating season is around this time. Reasons valid excuses get kicked out with Instincts cheat card as Paul’s member raises to poke her tail.

She lets out a giggle, enough to pull Paul’s gaze from her moist lips to her face. Were her cheeks this rosy always? Is she blushing? The Emperor Penguin takes a sip from the cup she has been offering and then dips her wing tip to the liquid, letting droplets to dribble on her breasts. The cold water causes her nipples to erect, single droplet remaining on the nipples tip, glistering on the light. The smile on her face has more blissful look on it, the sparkle on her eyes becoming sultrier. She leans forward, placing her hands besides Paul’s head as she scoots backwards. Her breasts swinging within mouths again almost takes his attention from his erection brushing against her crotch. Almost. Her body was warm, pleasantly so on the cold air, but her insides. They radiate heat. Penguin Harpies are excellent at preventing heat loss, their fluffiness capturing air between the feathers to stay warm. When the wind grows, they flock together to share what excess heat escapes their feathers. But no one has written study about their mating heat. Paul had already got used to the chilly air of the cave against his naked skin, albeit having goosebumps. But as she positions her moist lips above his penis, he remembers again what real warmth feels like.

Not bearing it anymore, Paul sinks his hands into her breasts, squeezing the soft orbs. They feel amazing. His fingers sink right in them, the weight on his palms feels just right. He can’t help, but smother himself against them, inhaling deep the scent of her bosom. The perky nipples brush his cheeks and he seeks to catch one of them with lips. Hearing her gasp as he circles the nipple with his tongue, Paul begins to knead harder. These tits were made to be wrapped around dick, pumped until her blushing red cheeks would be painted white. But she had other ideas, going straight to the mating. Having positioned herself while having her breasts thoroughly massaged, she lowers her pelvis onto his. The pudgy thighs spread as she places her weight on them. First attempt leads to Paul’s dick sliding across her moist lips, rubbing against her clitoris. Puffing her cheeks, she lifts for another try, bouncing up and down as she attempts to engulf his penis. Love juices dripple down Paul balls, but besides slippering his dick, she has no success on reaching her goal. The plump Penguin is already starting to get frustrated, bouncing on her soft butt and grinding against the dick. It not until Paul thrusts upwards when she bounces up that she receives her reward, gasping in pleasure as she hilts down to the base in one thrust as she comes down.

Her arms give in and she lays on his chest, savoring the feeling as her soaking pussy stretches to his shape. Paul’s hands feel lonely having the ample breasts taken away from them and his face. Instead they seek to her round posterior and sink themselves into the bouncy, soft flesh. Massaging her rump and throbbing deep inside her, he gazes once again into her sparkling eyes. Despite her enthusiastic start, their mutual gaze tells they are going to this gently and slow. Locking into each other’s eyes, their world has nobody else but them. They are as one, one body, one mind. Syncing their breaths, the lovers begin to move. Slowly pulling out and thrusting back. A bit more with each thrust. When Paul can’t move any further, she begins to lift her hips. They slam into each other, steadily and in rhythm. Her pussy grips hard each time he pulls out until chilly air blows into their drenched crotches. Then they slam together again, sliding deep within her until their hips meet. Hot and cold, fulfillment and suction. Their love is tantric. They share their skins, laying on top of each other. They feel each other’s shivers, breaths brushing their goosebumps, sweat gathering between them. They go on for hours, reaching peak together multiple times, never breaking the gaze. Finally, one last time he fills her overflowing womb with his seed, the pool of juices under them swelling and soaking into his clothing.

Breathing out, they ride the wave of pleasure together until they drift into sleep, still connected. Outside the cave, storm rages on.

-End of Part One.-