Milked by the Yeti (Again) part 3
by Callie Press
A behind the scenes look at Callie’s process and then installment 3 of MILKED BY THE YETI. Natch!
So I looked over the other parts and analyzed my work in the ‘literary’ sense. (Yeah, believe it or not, I have some education.) But that’s for me to know and you to figure out yourself! MJ seemed to find it amusing that I was taking this seriously. So I feel like I need to say, I’m not taking the story seriously, just my craft! Rough drafts are hideous so I desperately try to make my first shot read like a final draft once all my notes get cut out. Hemingway sentences are part of make-up, but I do tend to stick eight or nine of them together with commas and such sometimes. I don’t mind having more than one idea in a sentence, if it flows well (to me). MJ wouldn’t hear of me admitting I have flaws though, and I have to admit he has a point. I’m ok as-is!
Oh and I’m adding this paragraph as I come back to it to restart. Had a several-hours-long break on this installment, the other 2 were written in one frantic sitting each. Today was hectic and more than a little painful, kinda pushed it too much too soon. Oh well!
So I guess…’nuff said! Here’s part 3!
Callie’s Milked by the Yeti (Again)
The fucking Yeti took Lena up, up, up where the air was thin. It was a greater distance than before. They came to a large plateau surrounded on all sides by ascending mountain faces. A lake had gathered in this level valley. Everything was white except the bluish ice. Around the edges and even farther out, actually on the lake, were strange, enormous stalagmites. They were also white from the snow, just as the ground and the surrounding mountains. Lena could not look anywhere that did not appear white. She could discern the stalagmites and trees by flecks of color where the snow was thinner, either stone or wood. It was pretty in that Christmas way that only makes you happy when you’re seeing it from inside a warm car or from beside a roaring fireplace.
It was too damn cold for Lena to care how pretty all the white was. All she could think about was the nagging worry that the Yeti, who she was pretty sure she was in love with, would fuck her and milk her and kick her ass down the mountain again. Damn Vlad anyhow for putting that thought in her mind! She knew she could make the Yeti love her. Dogs always liked her, even mean ones, so she knew the Yeti would come around. He would change for her, because this had to be true love.
Suddenly she knew how to make him love her, and why he didn’t already. True love takes a passionate kiss! She determined to make him kiss her as soon as possible.
But then she remembered all the men and women she had kissed for whom she felt no love. Had they wanted her to love them? And her other favorites, Natasha and Vlad—she had certainly shared those true-love spit-swaps with them. What if the Yeti was too much? Was she even worthy of this massive, muscled beast and his leg-sized member’s love? She wasn’t trying to have a harem. Maybe she had used up all the true love a person deserves. Maybe she could never work with anyone except Natasha or Vlad or both of them, even though marriage was a thing of the past.
She got sick of her introspection right as the Yeti hit the edge of the frozen lake, which is right about the time I got sick of writing it. [That’s the kind of shit I edit out the most. MJ says, right at the time I got sick of editing it] The Yeti took a few running steps and posed. His feet hit the ice like skates, one leg forward, the other supporting the bulk of his weight. With very little wobbling or adjusting, they skidded way too god damn quickly across the ice. They were aimed at a stagmite that was busted off halfway up, which rapidly grew as they flew right the fuck at it, covering probably a mile in under a minute. He was skating faster than 20 li (里) per hour, faster than sixty miles per hour, faster than 97 kilometers per hour; like I said, way too god damn quickly to rely on nothing but Yeti-pads for traction. The stalagmite had been distant so Lena thought it was small, but it was higher than the Yeti when they smacked into it. He grabbed a little handle made of ice on the top of the stalagmite that seemed to exist expressly for the intention of slowing a skate-racing Yeti. He must have fashioned this himself, Lena thought.
They whirled completely around the stalagmite and the Yeti’s body took the brunt of the blow. He lifted his other arm, the one she was in, and timed it perfectly so that when he hit the wall of the stalagmite with his chest and legs, she flew into a hollow on top of it. She rolled on the floor-like surface and hit the back wall, which was just part of the protrusion that had been left to rise higher. The inside of the open-skied, hollowed out stalagmite was a large, snow-covered room. She was cold again.
She could see the Yeti had made an igloo in one corner of the floor here. Since she was bare ass naked and now covered in snow, a little protection from the elements would go a long way. The cold was already getting to her extremities, and even her ass, which had been toasty in the crook of his elbow. She hoped she wouldn’t get frostbite on her extremities, since she had more extremities showing now than ever. She knew this setup was clever because no wind reached her. Since it was too high up to jump from, she was in a kind of little prison.
She was impressed at his cunning and his hands-on skill at making things. It was manly to do, and it implied intelligence to make one’s own tools, like the great ape he surely was. He had made a home for her out of the stalagmite. He built everything without even knowing what duct tape was. She turned to face him and looked into the black field and the dazzling, multi-hued shades-of-red backdrop around his eyes. [And only for a moment did she wonder, ‘Why was this the other way around in the last installment? Can we get a continuity edit?’ Yes, Lena. If we were taking this seriously, you betcha. I had the eyes as “antumbra”, and i’m not even sure I knew what that meant! Sometimes I write a word and then look it up later to find out if I’m right or not.]
Lena climbed achingly to her feet, still a bit shaken by how hard he had tossed her into the makeshift room. She walked toward his big face at the edge of her little prison house. She was cold. She didn’t like it, but at least he was warm. She could warm up if he let her. Even coming closer to him made her warmer, both inside and outside. His eyes had the passionate heat of a volcano that set her aflame in her bald Russian nethers, and brought her big adorable nipples to diamond-hard nubs.
His eyes widened as he saw her nipples enflame and a grin split his big white fucking yeti face. His poor-to-middling teeth shone yellow and brown under the white shag that grew right up to his yeti lips. He reached up and helped himself to her enormous bare breasts with his big white yeti fingers, squeezing and kneading as he had the last time he milked her. Lena knew that she was moments away from being milked by the yeti again.
She smiled back at him and rubbed his face with her hands, moving closer to bring her breasts to his mouth, when a huge roar sounded from far to her left. It was another yeti! His eyes bulged and he inhaled loudly, clearly stunned at the sound. He leaped back a step, completely out of her reach, almost dislodging her from her perch. When he did, she saw that Vlad’s shirt was stuck to the yeti’s hip. The yeti noticed it too, and grabbed it quickly, tossed it onto the floor of her prison, and ran off in the direction of the yell.
Lena could see that way by poking her head beyond the perimeter of the stalagmite wall. Sure enough, after peering hard for a few minutes, she made out another yeti in the distance. She heard another roar and saw her yeti pick up the pace to reach the other yeti.
The other yeti, with yeti-sized tits. A she-yeti.
She saw him approach the she-yeti with his shoulders slumped and his head down. The she-yeti barked in his face and cuffed his head, and he walked ahead of her defeated until they disappeared from Lena’s view.
Lena put the shirt on and went inside the igloo, cold and alone, waiting for her body heat to permeate the isolated air inside. She was sad and cold. Her yeti, her love, had a wife.
Where did that leave Lena? She didn’t have a clue. She was clueless. Literally clueless. Any hint as to what would happen to her would have made it better, because that would at least have been a clue. She sat there, clueless in the cold, and tried to figure out something that could pass for a clue. She didn’t even have a clue about what would pass for a clue.
The igloo felt less cold after her tail-chasing thoughts had gone on for a few hours. She slept.
Vlad and Natasha watched from inside the truck. They were parked in a little grotto of trees and shrubs not far from where they had found Lena and the yeti last time.
“I don’t like this, Natasha,” Vlad said for probably the twentieth time. “It’s been almost 2 hours.”
“Yes, you keep saying.”
“If they got here before us, they’re already in the cave!” he said.
“You passed them, you idiot, we saw him run by with Lena long before we got here, across that gulch,” she said, smiling at him and cupping his cheek.
“What if he wasn’t bringing her here?” he said.
“What, you think he has many houses? He’s a simple beast, I doubt he juggles multiple homes.”
“What if that cave wasn’t his home? He could be smarter than you give him credit for. Maybe it was just one of many milking-caves. A hunt camp.”
“Oh I’m so sick of this conversation,” she exhaled. “’Milking caves.’ Uck. What do you want to do?”
“We should check the cave to be sure, then we should back track to the gulch and find a way across. We should be able to find his tracks, he’s the size of a house.”
She threw one long, slender hand up, then opened the door. “Bring the gun,” she said.
He grabbed a bolt-action rifle from the back seat. “I don’t like guns,” he said, scowling as he slung it over his shoulder.
“I know you don’t,” she said. “And yes, I know why you don’t like guns. But you can’t seriously believe you’re under a curse.”
They met in front of the truck and walked on, Natasha slightly in the lead and to his right.
“You’ve seen it happen, Natasha.”
“Coincidence. Besides, you don’t know if it’s a curse or not. They would have to tell you.”
Her thigh-high boots and his combat boots crunched the deep snow. It was cold. There was only a little breeze.
“No, it’s a curse,” he answered firmly. “My family has a long history of prophets and mystics. My Grand-Mama knew her shit.”
“Then it’s not much of a curse on you. Shut up about it now please, darling. If they’re in there, they’ll soon be able to hear us.” Vlad and Natasha were near the edge of the cave entrance. They noticed a flickering light emanating from the cave entrance onto the snow.
“I already hear you,” said a heavily accented male voice. “I’m armed, stop where you are. Why are you here?”
“We’re looking for our friend, Lena,” Natasha said. “Who are you? Why are you here?”
“Might we come inside and talk? It’s cold out here,” Vlad said.
There was a silent moment, then the man said, “It’s ok. Come in slowly.”
They did. They saw an Asian man in a parka sitting on a trunk-like suitcase in front of a small fire. His hood was down and he had the rifle aimed at them, but resting across his knees. Coming out of the neck of the parka was a breather of some kind, made of what looked like red plastic. It was a triangle, like a pyramid with one edge directly down the middle facing out perfectly in line with the parka zipper.
“Come, sit,” he said, motioning them in. The three of them likewise made the points of a triangle around the Asian man’s small fire.
“I am Jack Li,” the man said. “I know you two, from the camp. You are friends with the woman who was milked by the yeti.”
“He took her again today,” Natasha said, peering at Jack intensely. “Jack Li. Do I know you? You look so familiar.”
He squirmed. “No, I’m sure you don’t. You must have just seen me around camp. I was waiting for the yeti to return so I could defeat him. I left as soon as you got your friend back to camp safely. I’ve hunted three yetis before this, so I know about yetis. He was not here when I arrived earlier today. I have been here most of the day awaiting his return. If he had come back here, I would have been waiting for him. The yeti did not bring Lena here after he took her again. This must be just a milking cave.”
“I told you,” Vlad said.
“We will have to backtrack to the gorge, then,” Natasha said. “Will you come with us, Jack Li? We saw them across a gorge.”
“I will come,” he answered. “But we should rest here. We can easily catch up tomorrow, with your truck. Their stamina is remarkable, but even a yeti can’t keep up the pace like a truck. Tracking him will be easier in the light, but only because we have a new moon tonight. We will depart at first light.” He stood and produced three blankets from the trunk he was sitting on, handing them one each. He wrapped the other around himself and said, “I’ll take first watch.”
“What do you think?” Vlad said.
“What do you think?” Natasha said.
He pondered a moment, then said, “We’d be warmer if we share our blankets and body heat.”
“Very true,” Natasha said, and that was that. They were a team, at least for now. Nothing would stop them from saving Lena from the fucking yeti tomorrow.
The li (Chinese: 里, lǐ, or 市里, shìlǐ), also known as the Chinese mile, is a traditional Chinese unit of distance. The li has varied considerably over time but was usually about a third as long as the English mile and now has a standardized length of a half-kilometer (500 meters or 1,640 feet). This is then divided into 1 500 chi or “Chinese feet”.
The character 里 combines the characters for “field” (田, tián) and “earth” (土, tǔ), since it was considered to be about the length of a single village. As late as the 1940s, a “li” did not represent a fixed measure but could be longer or shorter depending on the effort required to cover the distance.
There is also another li (Traditional: 釐, Simplified: 厘, lí) that indicates a unit of length 1/1000 of a chi, but it is used much less commonly. This li is used in the People’s Republic of China as the equivalent of the centi- prefix in metric units, thus limi (厘米, límǐ) for centimeter. The tonal difference makes it distinguishable to speakers of Chinese, but unless specifically noted otherwise, any reference to li will always refer to the longer traditional unit and not to either the shorter unit or the kilometer. This traditional unit, in terms of historical usage and distance proportion, can be considered the East Asian counterpart to the Western league unit.