The seal hunt
By Strega
 
There was a pure white seal not twenty feet from Ronnie. Though one of the smaller species, this one was one easily as large as he was not even counting the unnatural bulge in its midsection. A club, handle wrapped in athletic tape and equipped with the usual hook for collecting the corpse of a clubbed seal, lay on the snow nearby. He recognized the club as Jonas's, By that knew who the bulge was. His high school friend still kicked inside the distended seal, which lay there looking smug. Somehow it had surprised and gulped Jonas down and now the only thing in his friend's future was a trip through the little seal's digestive tract.
 
Ronnie would run over to help if he didn't have problems of his own. The polar bear that had him by the collar dragged him effortlessly along, and his efforts to swipe at it with his own club were ineffectual. It didn't even bother to bat the thing out of his hand since the grip it had on his parka made it impossible to twist around and strike with any force.
 
It had seemed a good way to make some money. The usual ads were posted. 'Strong men needed for seal hunt.' Active young men used to working in the cold, it said. And in Norway, that was most young men. So Ronnie and Jonas and Christian and Einar and others from their high school class, plus many others, applied and were accepted for what was supposed to be a weekend expedition. One day out packed like sardines in the seal hunting ship's spare rooms, a day to hunt, and a day back.
 
Einar was gone now, swallowed whole by a dolphin that bolted him down parka, boots and all. Ronnie saw his friend struggle to swim away from the carnage at the longboats only to be pulled under and reappear as a set of legs kicking from the dolphin's beak. Three heaving gulps and his friend was gone, his only legacy being a high-pitched dolphin burp.
 
Things had gone wrong quickly. Four boats full of men, mostly students with a few experienced leaders in each boat from the seal hunting ship, motored up the narrow ford to the seal rookery. A couple of orcas and a right whale appeared, the orcas female from the shape of their fins, but that was little cause for worry. The orcas, clever giant dolphins, knew about the seal hunts and hoped to pick off any young seals that tried to escape via water and baleen whale was most likely lost.
 
That's what they thought. They were wrong and found out only when well out of sight of the ship. The baleen whale and orcas disappeared beneath the waves only to reappear under two of the boats. Both flipped over, spilling the men into the icy water, and before the solitary rifleman in each of the other two boats - there to fend off polar bears - could get a shot, the whales disappeared again. Moments later the remaining boats were flipped as well and nearly a hundred men struggled to right their boats or reach the shore.
 
What resulted was a well choreographed ambush. The two orcas easily chased down and swallowed one man after another until both were fat and lazy, belching contentedly as they chased a last few men. The baleen whale's colossal maw rose from the waves to engulf a dozen hunters, and despite the well known fact that such a whale never ate anything larger than a seabird it lifted its nose from the water and swallowed the squirming mass of men in one huge gulp. When ten more men disappeared together down its gullet the survivors scattered and tried for the shore.
 
Another few managed to right a boat and climb aboard only for the insanely predatory right whale to swallow the entire boat, men and all. One quick thinking man leapt from the gunwale and right into the gaping beak of a dolphin, which chittered and giggled as it swallowed him whole. Two dolphins, one bulged out by Ronnie's friend and the other by at least two other men, swam around looking for additional prey, avoiding the orcas and giving the predatory right whale a wide berth though twenty-plus men and an entire boat already bulged its fat midsection.
 
Ronnie made it to shore, where things were little better. Some of the men beached in the midst of a group of walruses who lay placidly until the men were too close to escape before lunging forward to gulp one man after another. One of the experienced hunters, armed with a pistol, managed to put several rounds into a fat walrus bull before disappearing down its gullet. If the bleeding wounds particularly discomfited the bull it showed no sign, smashing a second man to the ice with its tusks before lifting him and bolting him down. A great bulge moved through its thick neck and then he was gone, swallowed by a creature so huge that if Ronnie hadn't seen it happen he'd not have noticed the new, twitching lump in the walrus's belly.
 
Men were being eaten all around him as Ronnie reached the shore, adrenalin overcoming the cold of icy water that soaked his clothing. Normally he'd be looking for dry clothing and shelter to stave off hypothermia but twenty feet away a big gray seal was swallowing Bjorn whole and he didn't want that sort of warmth. The snow was thick with predators gathered for the ambush and all seemed to like their prey whole. Ronnie ran past a white wolf that was laboriously eating his friend Arvid - he recognized the man's fast disappearing boots - and escaped the ring of seals, walruses, and furry creatures who had reduced an organized band of hunters to assorted bulges and a scattering of seal clubs and gear lying near well fed predators.
 
He was one of the few who made it out of the ambush. Eirik, a friend from his soccer team, ran right into a pack of wolves. Astrid, one of the few women in the hunting group, ran for her life, pursued by a loping beast that could only be one of the rare giant wolverines Ronnie had heard about. It had already torn her pants off and was visibly male and aroused. Ronnie didn't wait to see what happened.
 
Of a hundred men, Ronnie was one of the last and broke through the ring of predators only to run right into a wall of white fur. The polar bear remained perfectly still to blend in with the snow and he was in too much of a hurry to spot the ink-dark eyes watching keenly as he approached. It was smart enough to cover its black nose with a forepaw to be even harder to spot. He bounced off its flank and before he could recover it pinned him a massive paw and sank its fangs into the nape of his parka.
 
Panicked and fully expecting to be bolted down whole Ronnie swiped at it with the hooked seal club he'd somehow managed to keep hold of. Face down in the snow he couldn't get any leverage and it ignored him as it dragged him along. Ronnie felt something kick beneath the white fur of its drooping belly and knew there was already at least one man in its stomach. In a moment the bear's jaws would creak wide and struggled with all his might, but the polar bear was as big as six or eight men. It simply ignored his efforts until it reached the edge of an icy slope and threw him over.
 
Still struggling, Ronnie slid down the green ice only to be brought up short as the bear's fangs went through the tough fabric of his pants cuff. He scrabbled at the frictionless ice, sure he was about to be eaten feetfirst. The seal club slid down the slope onto the snow below and that woke something.
 
Dark eyes blinked awake in the snow and the long torpedo shape of a gray seal shook off the white. It was almost as big as the polar bear and Ronnie swore it grinned as its turned its whiskery muzzle up toward him. The seal considered the situation for a moment before inchworming its way to the base of the icy slope and yawning.
 
A horrified Ronnie stared into the steaming gullet of a gray seal and knew that if the polar bear let go he'd slide down the icy slope and right into the waiting maw. Somewhere in the distance a gun popped. Someone was still putting up a fight even as other predators in view belched and settled down to digest their meals. From his vantage point he saw the oddly bulged right whale, an anchor hanging from its maw like a fishhook, swimming lazily away. The two female orcas and a pair of swollen dolphins flanked the whale, one dolphin managing to leap from the sea and show off the long bulge of at least two whole men it had swallowed alive. The good news was that despite ending up in the icy water, not one man or woman died of hypothermia. The bad news was nature of the heat sources they were involuntarily snuggled into now. The three surviving boats had sunk and of a hundred men all that remained was a distant shriek - Astrid? Had the wolverine caught her? - two more shots that trailed off into silence and a deep belch as the polar bear vented the air that went down with its earlier human meal.
 
That drew Ronnie's attention back to his own situation and he watched in horror as the seal slid nose up the icy slope as far as it could go. Flexible jaws creaked and popped as it yawned and Ronnie stared past yellowed fangs into its throat. He'd seen too many people eaten whole today to doubt that if the polar bear let go he'd be a long bulge in gray fur in seconds. The bear shifted its grip on his ankle and Ronnie knew he was doomed. Either it would pull him back up and swallow him feetfirst or let him slide into the slimy gullet waiting so eagerly below.
 
Maybe if he pushed hard enough as the ice he could avoid either fate, pull free from the bear's fangs and miss the seal maw below. Ronnie scrabbled at the ice, the thick sealskin mittens sliding across the glass-slick surface, and for a moment his hand caught on a rock frozen into the ice. Before he could take advantage of the anchor the polar bear let go and he slid helplessly down the icy slope, right toward the seal's gaping maw.
 
He tried to twist aide but the ice was slick and there was simply not enough time. There was a rush of cold air as he picked up speed, a sudden close look at the yellowed fangs and the steam rising from wet pink flesh around them, then a wet thump and everything went black. Slimy seal gullet expanded smoothly and slid past his cheeks as his momentum sent him halfway down the thing's throat. Only the bulky parka catching on jagged teeth and his broad shoulders kept him from disappearing in one long slide, like a letter dropped into a hungry mailbox.
 
Ronnie kicked in desperation, his boots sliding across the smooth ice outside the seal, and tried his best to grab something. His arms were pinned tight to his sides but his hands were still in the seal's mouth and he grabbed its lower jaw, refusing to he swallowed. Sharp teeth gouged his palms but it was hold on or slide down this fetid fleshy chute into a waiting stomach and even here in the gullet he smelled the digestive juices ahead. The big seal's pulse drummed through him, slow and calm despite the situation. It wasn't worried about the polar bear close overhead and Ronnie felt the slick flesh slide over him as it lifted its head in a worm-like undulation and swallowed.
 
A great contraction of its throat muscles rolled over him, starting at the strong tongue trying to push him deeper and continuing down the seal's gullet, each band of muscle trying to ease him closer to the stomach. Were it not for his grip on the lower jaw he would slide helplessly down its throat but he held on, knowing that if he slipped the only thing left of him that anyone might recognize would be the metal buckles of his clothing it passed after digesting him.
 
If he could hold on long enough it must cough him up or suffocate and Ronnie held on for dear life. Slimy throat shifted around him once again as the seal tried a different tactic. Craning its nose upward, it lifted itself on its flippers and thrust its muzzle toward the sky in an effort to bolt him down. As its jaws snapped wide open they jerked forward and for an instant his entire weight hung by the slender grip of his fingers. Copious volumes of saliva filled its maw to lubricate him for easy swallowing and Ronnie went wide-eyed on horror in the stinking dark of a hot seal gullet as his hand slipped off the seal's side teeth. He desperately tried to regain his grip but just then it swallowed again, and the slimy contraction of its gullet muscles, aided by gravity, pulled his other hand off its fangs as well.
 
"No!" Ronnie kicked, his toe hitting ice, and he used that impact to hook his heel back and slam it into the seal's rounded head. Thick fat and bone cushioned the blow so the seal didn't even seem to feel it and it was too late in any event. He was sliding deeper, carried along by powerful throat muscles, and a slimy sphincter expanded in front of his face as he was pushed into the seal's stomach. The seal arched, then straightened as it it swallowed a last time, and the horror he'd tried to avoid took Ronnie whole. Despite a last frenzied effort to kick and squirm he slid into the seal's lengthy stomach, wrapped from nose to toes in thick fat and sloshing acid.
 
"God, no! Help!" Ronnie squirmed, pushing at the surrounding meat, but hundreds of pounds of seal fat and muscle squeezed in against him. Gravity pushed the seal's fat down on him and he felt the long bulge he made, his shoulders and hips visible as protruding bulges in its long torpedo body. He was wrapped in a thick fleshy coffin of meat, stretched out in a seal's stomach and barely able to move. Hot digestive juices sloshed, flowing over him as the stomach wall kneaded them into his clothing.
 
There wasn't much skin for them to contact. Not yet. His sealskin leggings, heavy boots with hobnailed soles for traction on ice, his thick parka with the wolverine fur around his face, all provided a lot of protection. Useful stuff, wolverine fur. Ice won't form on it, so your breath won't coat it with frost.
 
It was also, he remembered reading somewhere, immune to stomach acid just like all hair and fur. There were so few calories in hair that it wasn't worth digesting, so creatures simply didn't evolve the stomach enzymes to do it. As the stomach acids softened and ultimately digested his hide clothing, the fur would fall loose. It would make its way out of the seal virtually unchanged, shat out with the other indigestibles like his own hair.
 
Some of the acid was getting at his skin between sleeves and mittens and at his face now, too. Wrapped in slimy seal flesh, pinned under the bulk of fat and muscle and bone, Ronnie tried to struggle. He didn't want to be seal fat and seal shit. He really didn't.
 
If his struggle bothered the seal at all it didn't show. Even from inside it he heard the long belch as its stomach squeezed most of the air trapped in his clothing out into its gullet, and it lay there perfectly relaxed, content to let its stomach work. Then there was a change. He felt the seal undulate as it pushed itself along the snow, turning sideways to the wall of ice he'd slid down. There was a subtle shift as it did something with its hind flippers then the seal, and Ronnie inside it, each grunted as a great weight pushed down from above.
 
Something thick and strong wrapped around each side of the seal down by Ronnie's thighs at the same time and the weight of whatever it was squeezed the rubbery seal body into an oval as something came to rest atop the seal's hindparts and Ronnie's upper body. Two more somethings pressed against either side of the seal's body across from his shoulders and there was an imposing slither as something...entered the seal's body, near his face?
 
Ronnie worked it all out just as the humping started. The polar bear. The polar bear hadn't thrown him over that icy slope by chance. It had deliberately fed him to the seal as a bribe and now it was fucking the seal. He could feel the thing's forepaws wrapped around the thick seal body, its hindpaws down by his shoulders. The weight of its belly (where the occasional vague twitch showed its own human meal still lived) pressing down from above and his face was so far down the seal's body cavity he could actually feel the massive bear cock pistoning in and out of the seal. Ripples moved through the thick gelatinous fat around him as the bear slammed its hips against the seal, and the seal pushed back against it to meet the thrusts.
 
Polar bears prey on seals, but it seemed that with an abundance of food, even a fat seal can start looking pretty good to a horny bear. A hole's a hole, his friend Einar used to say. Einar was busy making his way through the guts of a dolphin and now it was Ronnie's turn. From the point of view of one being digested a seal isn't that different from a dolphin, no doubt. The main difference was that far as he knew the dolphin that ate Einar wasn't being fucked by a bear. Maybe a orca or right whale, though. Enough unnatural things happened today that a dolphin fucking a whale seemed positively pedestrian.
 
The seal let out a purr of pleasure as a thick black polar bear cock - they were black, he thought he remembered - slid in and out, and all Ronnie could do was curse. Bit by bit the seal's digestive juices were seeping into his clothing, and eventually even his parka and pants would dissolve, at which point his transformation from man to seal fat and seal poop would really begin.
 
Trapped in that long pocket of fat and flesh and squeezed by the added weight of a horny polar there was nothing Ronnie could do to save himself. All he could do was gasp in the foul-smelling air and wait for the end. He lasted quite a while thanks to the remaining air trapped in his clothing. He was still alive when the thrusting increased in pace and ended in a shudder, both the seal and bear climaxing at the same moment, and hear the slither as the polar bear pulled its cock back out, leaving great volumes of cum behind. It wasn't the first polar bear to look elsewhere for love when the white bear ladies weren't receptive, or to offer a bribe for a female's affections. After all, the white bear sows have to worry about getting pregnant, but a bear can't get a seal pregnant no matter how many times he tries.
 
By the time it tried again Ronnie was dead, mercifully out of air before digestion really got going. A gift of a whole human bought the bear a good long stay with the seal. They were some of the last to leave the beach, a day later. They left just as the first search parties arrived.
 
The three sunken boats were recovered, along with a few seal clubs and assorted gear, but not even much of that. Some of the younger aquatic preds had made a game of carrying loose gear out into the inlet to sink. Not one body was found. A pack of walruses lay innocently on the shore, not even reacting when men approached to look for traces of the hunting party. None was found. The almost universally natural materials of the hunter's clothing dissolved along with its owners and one pile of walrus poop looks much like another. A few seals and sea lions of various sorts lay stretched out on shore as well, having digested their human meals to the point of having no incriminating bulges. More obviously dangerous creatures like the polar bear stayed well away, or watched from concealment. One very fat white seal watched from inside a snowbank, still swollen around a partially digested human skeleton. It had only managed to catch its meal due to the man's distraction and having laboriously swallowed him whole it had little choice but to den up until he was fully digested.
 
Eventually the search parties left, puzzled as to how the men vanished without a trace. It's hard to solve a murder without a body, even a hundred murders. As they motored down the inlet they noted the right whale and two female orcas headed in the opposite direction. No doubt a lost whale and two orcas speculating that it might be lunch, they thought.
 
If they had stayed they would have seen a curious gathering. The right whale, swimming rather gingerly after his ill-considered meal of an entire boat and having had to pass a variety of unpleasant junk thereof including an oar and a red and white life saver, not to mention having to regurgitate the boat minus its now digested passengers, swam close enough to the shore to talk to a white bear, a more than human sized wolverine, a walrus, several seals and sea lions, a wolf and a large sea otter. His own cohort of water predators swam close as well, the two orca females each flanked by a newly fattened dolphin.
 
"It worked," the whale whistled without preamble, and various preds grinned back at him. The wolverine nodded, remembering his latest unwilling lover and meal rather fondly. He'd been much happier to see the human female than she was to see him, but his happiness was of course the important thing. A softhearted predator is a short-lived predator.
 
"It did," growled the wolverine. "Can we do it again?"
 
"Carefully," whistled the whale. "Not here. These hunts move around. We'll have to decide where the next one is to be."
 
"He means," whistled one of the orcas, "That we need to learn where the humans will hunt next."
 
"Yes," whistled Ronas, who realized he'd been rather cryptic. "Do we know the other places they do these hunts?"
 
"My mother," said the still-fat white seal, who had crept out of his snowbank, "Says there are three every spring, this inlet, then the next and the next."
 
Those present, most of whom would happily eat a seal this size under other circumstances, nodded agreeably. You had to respect a little creature like that who managed to overpower and gulp down a whole human as big as himself.
 
"I will talk to my friends," growled the polar bear, who often went by 'Sealfucker' for some odd reason. 'Anything fucker' would in fact be more accurate, since he'd had, among other things, several quite willing human women and a she-wolf or two wrapped around his shaft at various times.
 
"And we must be careful that the humans don't figure out what is going on," barked a grizzled old sea lion, who was still rather tender in delicate places due to the unusual amount of indigestibles his meal wore. No one wants to pass a pair of rubber boots, but sometimes you have to.
 
So they sat, and they planned. As far as they knew no one ever planned and executed a mass ambush of humans out to hunt seal pups. Many of them had given reluctant humans short-lived fur coats before, but a hundred of them at once? It was unheard-of. That was the beauty of it.