Tamed by the Yeti

by Clea Kinderton

  “It’s Joanna! She’s being attacked!”

  Several people were speaking at once.

  “Oh my God! What is it?!”

  “It can’t be!”

  “It’s the yeti!”

  “That’s impossible!”

  “I told you! It’s real!”

  “What are you doing? Shoot it! It’s killing her!”

  A deafening blast rang out, echoing through the chamber, a crunch as the bullet struck stone.

  Oh my God! They’re shooting at us!

  Before I could move, the yeti pulled out and charged across the floor, growling like a bear.

  People were screaming in terror.

  “No! Stop!” I shouted, scrambling after the snowman. I was terrified that it would hurt someone, but even more afraid that someone would hurt it.

  I saw a man in a toque and a parka raise a rifle, but before he could fire, the yeti snatched the gun from his hand and snapped it in two like a tree branch. The man jumped back, terrified. Everyone else was running away, disappearing back down the tunnel from which they’d come.

  A search party! They found me!

  The man who’d been holding the gun had his back to the wall, face white with fear. It was only then that I realized that it was my brother.

  “Bill!”

  The yeti advanced on him, but I lunged in time to grab its big, hairy arm. The weight of my body slowed the yeti down, and it turned, bestial face twisted in rage. I thought for sure that the creature was going to kill me, but through some miracle the beast-man managed to restrain itself.

  “Don’t hurt him,” I pleaded, shaking my head. “He’s my brother.”

  I knew the yeti couldn’t understand what I was saying, but it could tell that I didn’t want it to hurt the man who’d behaved so threatening toward us. The yeti turned its head toward my brother and growled — a sound that sent a chill down my spine — and then slowly relaxed.

  “Joanna?” My brother’s voice was faint, fearful. Bill was no coward — like me, he’d been all over the world and he knew how to handle himself — but he knew how close he’d just come to being ripped limb from limb.

  “It’s okay, Bill. It won’t hurt you,” I said in what I hoped was a reassuring voice. I hugged the yeti’s arm even tighter, hoping that my presence would soothe the beast.

  “Joanna ... what’s going on?” Bill’s eyes were glued to the yeti, as much out of fascination as fear. As a conservationist, the discovery of a live yeti was as amazing to Bill as stumbling across the Holy Grail would have been to a Bible scholar. Bill’s scientific skepticism had discouraged him from assisting in the creation of my documentary — a fact for which I was grateful, because in all likelihood it had saved his life — but there was no way for him to deny the evidence of his senses.

  “He saved me, Bill. I fell through a hole in the ice into a cave. And then I fell into an underground river. I would have drowned, but the yeti pulled me out.”

  Bill turned his attention back to me, adamantly refusing to allow his eyes to stray below my chin.

  “Why are you naked? What were you doing when we came in?” I could see the horror and suspicion etched in my brother’s features and knew I had to work quickly to dispel his assumptions.

  “It’s just very playful,” I said, trying my best to appear indifferent. I patted the yeti’s shoulder affectionately. “It’s just like a big dog.”

  “But where are your clothes?”

  “I ... had to take them off. To clean them. They’re wet now, so I can’t wear them. I don’t want to get hypothermia. I’m trying to make new ones.” I pointed to the pile of hides for evidence.

  Bill’s eyes still betrayed his suspicions.

  “Look, I know what it looks like,” I said in a firmer voice. “But it was perfectly innocent.”

  I felt bad about lying to my brother, and about making the yeti seem less intelligent — less human — than it really was, but the alternative was even worse. If anyone found out what I’d been doing with the yeti ... well, I’m not sure I could have lived with myself. Not yet, anyway. I could feel a stream of yeti cum slowly crawling down my leg and pressed my thighs together, praying that my brother wouldn’t see it.

  Bill finally relented. He was only too willing to believe my lie — if only to spare his own sanity — but I could tell that something else was troubling him. He looked anxious.

  “Joanna—”

  “Relax, Bill. It’s perfectly harmless. As long as you don’t make it angry, that is.” I smiled at the yeti and gave it a hug to show my brother that it really wasn’t a threat. The yeti grumbled in a low, deep voice and snorted through its broad nose.

  The color was beginning to return to my brother’s cheeks, and he began to stand a little more at ease. Now that these urgent, preliminary concerns had been addressed, he felt compelled to express his amazement.

  “Joanna, this is incredible! This is a major scientific discovery! One of the most important discoveries in the last two hundred years. Perhaps in all of history!”

  I smiled at my brother’s enthusiasm, but I knew I couldn’t let him get carried away. The moment the world found out about the yeti, there would be no peace for him — for us. The mere thought of the media circus, the curiosity of the scientific community, even government interference, made me feel sick with worry.

  “Bill, you can’t tell anyone about this.”

  My brother’s enthusiasm was cut short and he stared at me, dumbfounded. “What are you talking about?”

  “You can’t tell anyone about the yeti.”

  “Why not?” The way he was looking at me, you’d think I’d sprouted antlers.

  “Because if other people get wind of this, they’ll try to hurt it. They’ll try to take it away. Lock it up in a cage. Perform experiments on it. At a minimum, all the attention will attract spectators, and they’ll ruin its habitat.”

  I could see that my brother was struggling with this, but I felt confident that I could bring him around. Conservation was in his blood, and as much as he wanted to share in the glory of my discovery and participate in the advancement of science, he wasn’t willing to do it at the expense of another living creature.

  “Joanna—”

  “I’m going to record its behaviors. I’ll make a documentary out of it. It will give me a chance to study it in its natural environment, the way Jane Goodall would.”

  “But you’re not trained for that sort of—”

  “Come on, Bill. I’m not stupid. I have a degree in anthropology, and I know how to use a camera. I make documentaries for a living. Beside, you know that it’s for the best. The yeti trusts me. If I don’t take advantage of this opportunity now, the world may never get another chance to study the yeti in its natural habitat.”

  “But—”

  “You can bring me supplies. Some video equipment and my notebooks. And clothes, of course. I’ll stay here for a while, record the creature’s activities, and then, when the time is right, we can tell the world together.”

  I could tell that Bill wanted to argue, but something made him hesitate. Perhaps it was the passion he heard in my voice, or the strangeness of the situation. Whatever the reason, he slowly nodded his head and looked down at his feet.

  “Fine. If that’s what you want, Joanna. And if you feel that it’s safe.” He turned his attention back to the yeti, scrutinizing the creature more intently, clearly intimidated by its size and strength.

  “It is, trust me. I’ll be fine. I’ve been here for days and its never—” I was going to say ‘laid a finger on me’ but I wasn’t sure I could say the words without betraying my secret “—tried to hurt me. It’s even been sharing its food.”

  Bill sighed, caving to my bizarre request. “When Pierre told me you were missing—”

  “Pierre is alive!” I said, surprised and relieved.

  “Yes, all of them. Claude and Alison, too. They’ve been worried sick about you. They’re leading a search party on the ot
her side of the mountain.”

  Then it really was just a dream! A part of me had been afraid that it had been their spirits that had come to me.

  Silly Joanna! Ghosts aren’t real!

  I tried not to think about the tiny yeti I’d dreamed clinging to my legs and what that might mean.

  “Tell the others I’m fine, Bill,” I said when I got over my initial surprise, “but don’t tell them about the yeti. No one can know.”

  We talked for a little longer and Bill finally resigned himself to the fact that I was determined to stay. We developed a list of supplies which included food, clothing, toothpaste and other essentials as well as all of the video and audio equipment I would need. I would need a generator as well — I hoped I could convince the yeti to allow me to run it — and a steady supply of gasoline. In the end, he agreed to come to the valley where the entrance of the cave was located once every two weeks to replenish my supplies.

  We also concocted a story that would explain my whereabouts to my family and friends: simply that I was undercover, filming an important, groundbreaking documentary and that I would be incommunicado for a while. The people who had come with him would have to be convinced that they hadn’t seen what they’d seen. Bill was going to tell them that it had been a bear, that he’d scared it off, and that I was fine. I felt bad putting him in a position where he would have to lie, but there was nothing else we could do.

  After several more reassurances, my brother finally left. When he was gone, I did my best to soothe the yeti, who was still clearly agitated about the whole ordeal. I led him over to the fire and sat him down on the edge of the fire pit, stroking his furry arm and whispering softly, telling him that everything was going to be okay. I knew he couldn’t understand a word of what I was saying, but he eventually relaxed and in no time he was back to his old self.

  He wrapped his arm around my waist and we cuddled for a time, sitting in silence and staring at the fire. I was just beginning to doze off, exhausted by the emotional strain, when I felt the yeti’s hand squeezing my breast.

  I looked down and saw with surprise that his cock was already fully erect.

  “Again? Already?” I said, taking his thick, hard shaft firmly in hand. I gave it a few strokes, teasing some precum from the tip, and felt myself moisten.

  The yeti made a small, sheepish grunt.

  I bent forward and licked the tip, taking him into my mouth for a little suck, then I stood up and straddled him.

  “This time, I hope nobody shoots at us,” I said.

  And I lowered myself on his cock with a satisfied sigh.

  Did you love Tamed by the Yeti? Then you should read Bride of the Manticore (Reluctant Monster Breeding Erotic Romance) by Clea Kinderton!

  According to legend, the Manticore is a beast with the body of a lion, the tail of a scorpion, and the head of a man. After a terrifying attack on her camp, Dilora flees into the desert, desperate to avoid the fate of her fellow travelers, only to be confronted by the legendary monster. The Manticore gives her a choice: share the fate of her companions or submit to him and bear his children.

  This 12,000 word forced breeding fantasy adventure includes cunnilingus, oral sex, shifter sex, and a reluctant but brave heroine being impregnated by a magical creature. Not for the squeamish!

  "I can make you happy," he says, kissing the throbbing vein in my neck. "I can give you pleasure, wealth, comfort, security --" His hands move down from my shoulders to my waist and then gradually slide to my front. "But I can't do any of that unless you agree to my proposal."

  I try to pull away but his grip grows tighter, pulling me against him. His hands are on my belly, low, just inches above my sex. I can feel his long, hard appendage pressing into my back. A wave of heat flashes through me, making my legs tremble and my heart pound like a drum. The crease between my thighs is suddenly hot and damp. I try to remember that he's a monster, that this isn't his real form, but a mirage designed to mislead and betray me.

  I grab his wrists, stopping his hands. "I told you I need time."

  "I'm not forcing you to make your decision now," he murmurs, kissing me behind the ear. "This is just a taste of what I offer. I can't expect you to make your decision without knowing what's at stake."

  His fingers curl around the fabric of my robe and I feel a tingle run over my skin, as if the air is alive. My robe falls from my body, as if it has no more substance than a dream.

  "How dare you --" I turn to him in surprise, but he presses his finger to my lips.

  "Don't speak, Dilora. Relax."

  Read more at Clea Kinderton’s site.

  About the Author

  I'm an erotica author with an overactive imagination. I've always been a big nerd and love reading big fat books, especially YA, fantasy, science fiction, and horror. Now I spend all of my time dreaming up stories about people that are much more adventurous than myself doing things that I would never, ever do in a million years.

  Relax, mom, it's just pretend. :)

  I'm always interested in hearing what you have to say and welcome suggestions. You can contact me at cleakinderton@hotmail.com.

  Read more at Clea Kinderton’s site.