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    Grumpy Bear
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.

Worlds Apart - 19. Trolling

Captain Ron strode across the wharf at 5:45 am sipping a coffee and thinking about his fishing strategy for the morning.  He looked ahead at the gangplank and was pleased to see Siku ready and waiting with the Ship’s Cat once again perched on his shoulder.  As he grew nearer, he noticed that there were five huge men waiting with him, each nearly the size of Siku himself.  What the shorter ones lacked in height, they made up for in broad muscle.

“Good morning, Papa Bear” the captain said cheerfully to his crewman as he drew near, “You look like you’re in a much better mood today.  Who is this motley crew you have with you?”

“Well sir,” Siku replied, “Yesterday, when we were talking before I left for the day, you mentioned that we were going to be so busy trying to make our weekly quota in just three days, that you wished that you could have five more men just like me for the next two days.  It just so happens that several of the crew from my last job on Lake Michigan are here visiting for the holiday week, and they would be happy as clams if you’d let them join the crew and do some fishing for the next couple of days.”

The captain tipped his hat back and surveyed the men, squinting through the morning gloom.

“Laddie,” Dom said striding forward and extending his hand, “I’m Siku’s previous captain.  I think we spoke over the phone when you were checking Papa Bear’s references. I can personally vouch for myself and the other four of my crew.  We’re ready to lend a paw on your boat.”

“Good enough for me,” the captain replied, shaking Dom’s hand vigorously, “Fish totes are over there, and the ice machine is next to them on the side of the building.  The rest of the crew should be along shortly.  Let’s show them what a Wisconsin fishing crew is made of!”

The five bears scrambled to begin loading totes and wheelbarrows full of ice, following Siku’s instructions. Charlie jumped over to Captain Ron’s shoulder before he strode across the gangplank onto the boat.

“Good to have you back, Charlie,” the captain said, stroking the cat on top of her head, making her purr, “I trust everything worked itself out with the hairball yesterday?”

“Meow,” Charlie replied, pressing her head into the captain’s hand for more petting as they made their way to the wheelhouse.

In just twenty minutes, by the time the rest of the fishermen had arrived at the Wharf, still rubbing the sleep out of their eyes, the crew of five bears had loaded all the totes and were just finishing with the ice.  A couple of them were even going over the spare nets with Siku on deck and making minor repairs.

“We’ve got a busy couple of days planned, boys,” the captain called to his regular crew over the bullhorn from the wheelhouse as they arrived in a loose group, “So Papa Bear has called in some reinforcements.  These are seasoned fishermen, not greenhorns, so show them the respect due, and we should have our quota for the week in no time!”

The regular crew scrambled to double-check that the visiting fishermen’s work was up to the captain’s standards, and after giving the thumbs-up to Captain Ron, they were ready to leave the dock a full forty-five minutes ahead of schedule.

As the boat headed out of the bay toward open ocean and their waiting nets, a couple of the bears asked the crew where they could store their tote bags of lunches.

One of the crew showed them where the spare lockers were located and then slyly asked the visitors if the tales that Papa Bear told them about their boat were true.

“He told us that none of you pack your lunches on your boat on Lake Michigan,” he began with a grin, “That when you take your break, you all just strip down naked, jump in the water, and catch a bunch of fish by hand to eat raw for lunch!  He did that the first day, and caught a tuna with his bare hands to eat, but we all freaked the fuck out, and thought he was going to die of hypothermia.  The captain made him promise never to do that again.”

“He told you right,” Barry said, elbowing the crewman roughly in the ribs, “Packing a bunch of sandwiches feels like a cop-out.” 

“Where we come from,” Dom added, “We have to earn our lunch.  Siku made us promise to pack a lunch and follow the rules today.  No getting naked, no jumping overboard...”

“And no lunchtime fuck-fest on deck,” Barry concluded sadly, “What a shame.  All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy, don’t-cha know.”

The crewman stood looking at Dom and Barry with his mouth agape.

“You all…” he said carefully, “Have an afternoon… fuck-fest… every day at lunchtime?  All of you… together?”

“Aye, laddie,” Dom replied with a grin.  “Does that surprise you?”

“Strangely,” the crewman replied, “No.  It makes perfect sense.  I thought San Francisco was as wild as it gets, but apparently we’re a bunch of prudes compared to Wisconsin!”

“Does that mean the rest of the crew are up for some playtime at lunch?” Barry asked hopefully.

“Um, no.” the crewman said. “I’m pretty sure here in California that would violate a whole boatload of workplace conduct laws.  Sorry.”

“Bugger it all,” Dom said, looking forlornly at Barry, “We’ll have to wait till after work.  I’m sure the Cubs will be horny enough by then.”

****

Mike leaned against the high table overlooking the street in the Castro district coffee shop. He had split the cubs into groups of one or two upon their arrival this morning and they had fanned out across the Castro, Mission and Haight-Ashbury neighborhoods.

He had spent extra time on his long, luxurious, blonde hair that morning, trying to decide between a topknot with the back and sides hanging loose, or a man-bun.

“Cub,” Gunnar had said passing by him in Siku’s master bathroom as they both got ready for their respective missions, “Don’t you think the man-bun is a little bit hipster douchebag?”

“Exactly, Papa,” Mike replied, securing his man-bun with a stretchy hair band, “It’s all about using the right bait.  It takes a douchebag to catch a douchebag.”

Now, he stood in the coffee shop, slowly sipping a fat-free soy hazelnut latte, wearing his tightest ass-hugging jeans over his favorite jockstrap that pulls his package up and out and puts it on display, and a white tank top with “WOOF” printed across the chest.

If this isn’t enough to get Colt’s attention, Mike thought to himself, I don’t know what will.

After staring out the window for a few more minutes and having one more look around at the other patrons in the coffee shop, he decided that this location was a bust, with nary a Kodiak bear in sight.  He took his coffee to go and made his exit, turning left up the sidewalk and trying to look casual as he took in the sights around him.

He didn’t notice the pair of eyes spying on him from the relative darkness of the alley two doors down to the right, and as he strolled up the street, a tall figure emerged and moved to follow, sniffing at the scent trail left behind by the bear.

“Blonde grizzly cub,” Colt mumbled to himself as he followed the round globes of Mike’s ass in front of him moving up the street.  “It must be my lucky fucking day.”

Mike stopped at the storefront of an adult bookstore and stood looking at their window display.  There were certainly no stores like this in Sturgeon Bay.  He put the coffee cup to his lips and tipped his head back, closing his eyes to drain the last of the brew.  As he swallowed the last drops, a pair of thick, muscular arms caught him in their grip, and a hard chest and equally hard erection were pressed against his back.  He kept from spitting out his coffee and snapped his eyes open and head forward, looking at the reflection in the storefront glass of the Kodiak werebear who had him in a tight bear hug.

“My, my,” Colt said, leaning his head down and pressing his nose against Mike’s neck, giving it a little lick as he did so, “What’s a pretty little cub like you doing wandering the streets of the Castro without his Papa?”

“I, uh” Mike stammered to think as he was wrapped in the bigger bear’s grip, “I left my Papa this week to come here and be on my own.  He just bred a new cub and needed me out of the way so they could bond.  This is my first day in the city, and I was just doing some sightseeing.”

“No Papa, you say,” Colt asked with a grin, looking at Mike’s reflection in the glass, and grinding his erection against his lower back, “You’re going to need a friend to take you under his wing and show you the ropes.  I know I’m not your Papa, but I could be your Daddy if you want.”

“I’d like that,” Mike said, playing it cool, and attempting to lead the big bear on.  “What’s your name, Daddy?”

“My name is Colt, Cub,” the Kodiak replied, “What’s yours?”

“I’m Mike.”

“Do you want to come with me to a spot where we can get to know each other better, Mike?” Colt asked.

“I’d like that,” Mike answered, “But can we make it this evening instead?  I have some appointments I need to keep coming up soon, and I have a feeling that ‘getting to know you’ is an activity that will require a clear calendar.”

Colt smiled, and scented Mike’s neck again, looking for the sent of fear or deception coming from the cub, but finding none.  He gave his neck a quick bite and looked back up at their reflections again with a grin.

“Sure thing.  Meet me at eight o’clock tonight at the El Capitan hotel, room 253.  Plan on spending the night.”

“A hotel?” Mike asked, “Don’t you have a place here in the city?”

“Of course,” Colt replied, “But I just met you.  I need to try you out at a neutral location first before I show you where I live.  Don’t you worry your pretty blonde head, Cub.  If you pass the test, Daddy will take you home with him soon enough.”

Mike nodded.

“Eight o’clock at El Capitan hotel it is then, Daddy,” he said.

“What room number, Cub?” Colt asked giving him another tight squeeze.

“Room 253,” Mike answered with a grunt as Colt squeezed the air from his lungs.

“Good boy,” Colt said, finally releasing him and quickly turning to stride away.  

“Don’t be late,” he said without turning to face Mike, and was soon halfway to the next block as he walked with a confident swagger.

Mike waited until he was out of werebear earshot and was sure Colt wasn’t going to turn to look at him again before pulling out his cell and starting to make calls.

“Hey, it’s Mike.

“Yes, I’ve made contact with Colt.  He’s a big fucker just like Axel and twice as cocky.

“Yeah, I know that’s hard to believe, but if you’d been in my place, held in a bear hug by the overgrown asshole while he ground his cock against your back for the last ten minutes like I was, you’d be a believer.

“No, he wanted to take me straight to a hotel and start fucking the shit out of me right now, but I made an excuse, so I’m supposed to meet him at eight tonight.

“Yeah, let’s round up the rest of the Cubs before Colt has a chance to try to fuck any of the rest of us and meet back at the house in Sea Cliff.  We’ll wait for the Papas to get back from fishing and San Jose and we’ll make a plan for how to deal with him tonight.

“See you there.”

Mike called up a few other Cubs and told them where to meet for pickup.  He wanted to get the rest of the group off the streets and out of sight before Colt spied too much fresh meat today and began getting suspicious.

****

Gunnar and three of the other Papas in the San Jose group sat at a table at an Indian buffet restaurant for a late lunch and to review their progress.  The bears were trying to take it easy on the restaurant proprietors but were each on their third full plate of food when Vilho suddenly rushed in to join them with a look of excitement on his face.

“Good news?” Gunnar asked hopefully around a mouthful of chicken tikka masala.

“I think I’ve found our possible path to get Siku and Shivay back together again,” Vilho said excitedly as he sat at the table with the other four bears and absent-mindedly picked a samosa from Gunnar’s plate and shoved it into this mouth whole.

“Hey, get your own food!” Gunnar exclaimed, and Vilho began to stand up and go to the buffet, but Gunnar grabbed him by the arm and forced him back into his seat.

“Get your food after you tell us your big discovery!”

“Oh, right,” Vilho replied, bringing his focus away from the steaming tables of food a few feet away and back to the business at hand.  “We know Shivay’s name as well as his father, Nameer, but neither of them are listed in any directories, online or otherwise.”

“We know,” one of the other bears said. “We wasted half the day searching through public records with nothing to show for it.”

“Well, I realized that we have one other bit of information… Nameer is a doctor.” Vilho continued, “When Siku was sharing stories about Shivay, he said that Nameer spends most of his time at home in the garage, tinkering with old clocks the way he tinkers with his patient’s hearts.  So, I did a search for a physician in the area by the name of Dr. Nameer Rawal, and bingo!  He has an office just a couple miles from here, and he’s seeing patients today.”

“Do you think we could get in to see him?” Gunnar asked excitedly, “Explain to him what happened on Saturday to cause the breakup and see if he can get Shivay to give Siku another chance?”

“I doubt that we’ll all be able to get in to see him,” Vilho replied, “But if one of us happened to be influentially wealthy and walked-in under the pretense of traveling all the way from Wisconsin to get a second opinion from Dr. Rawal on a serious heart condition, I’d bet that bear could manage to get a little alone time with the good doctor.”

“I suppose that influentially wealthy bear is me, right?” Gunnar asked, putting down his fork.

“Well, you’re the only bear in the group who owns not one or two but three businesses with enough money to buy the rest of the town of Sturgeon Bay if he wanted,” one of the other bears said, “I think you’re volunteered.”

Gunnar sighed but turned to Vilho.

“Good job,” he said. “You’ve earned your lunch.  Go nuts, but don’t put the place out of business, please.”

Vilho grinned, jumped up from the table, and went over to the buffet to finally fill his plate.

An hour later, Gunnar walked into the reception area of the medical offices of Dr. Nameer Rawal, accompanied by just one bear, Elias, as the other three waited anxiously outside.

Gunnar took a seat in the waiting area while Elias walked over to the reception desk.

“Excuse me,” Elias began once he had the attention of the receptionist. “I am the executive assistant for Mr. Gunnar Bergan, seated over there in your waiting area.  We don’t have an appointment, but we have traveled from Wisconsin hoping to see Dr. Rawal to discuss a recent diagnosis that he has received from his own physician at home.  Dr. Rawal has an excellent reputation as a cardiologist, and Mr. Bergan does not want to proceed with any treatment until he has received a second opinion.”

The receptionist was a bit surprised and skeptical that Dr. Rawal’s reputation extended very far beyond San Jose, California, let alone all the way to Wisconsin, but she confirmed that he did have a cancellation in ten minutes and would be able to see Gunnar right away.

She handed Elias a form on a clipboard and Elias proceeded to fill it in with entirely fictitious answers before handing it back.

“Does Mr. Bergan have insurance?” the receptionist asked.

“Yes, but he’s choosing not to submit this particular visit to his insurance company,” Elias replied. “He would prefer to pay for Dr Rawal’s services today out-of-pocket.”

Elias slid Gunnar’s American Express Platinum card across the desk to the receptionist, and her eyes went wide just for a second before nodding her head.

“You can pay after he has seen the doctor,” she said with a smile.  “Mr. Bergan can go in now.  I’ll escort him to exam room four.”

Gunnar sat in the exam room, anxiously waiting.  After several minutes, he heard a rustling outside of the door as the fictitious paperwork was removed from the wall mounted chart holder and briefly read.  A timid knock on the door preceded the entry of an Indian gentleman, clean shaven, wearing scrubs and comfortable shoes.

“Good afternoon Mr… Bergan,” the Doctor said, referring to the paperwork again, “Thank you for coming in today.  Please tell me what brings you here.”

“I apologize for the pretense of being a patient, Nameer,” Gunnar replied, staring at the tiger boldly.  “Perhaps if you were to examine my scent it would reveal the reason for my visit,”

Nameer gave Gunnar a puzzled look, but cautiously took another step forward and scented the air in front of him.  Gunnar could see the look of realization on his face as he discovered that a werebear was sitting in his exam room.

“You’re here because of Shivay,” Nameer said with a nervous look. “You must be one of Siku’s friends who attacked my son on Saturday night.”

“I am Siku’s friend,” Gunnar replied, “But I wasn’t at the party on Saturday, and I certainly took no part in your son’s attack.  My name is Gunnar Bergan, I live in Sturgeon Bay, Wisconsin, and I am a member of the North American Lycan Council.”

“Oh, no, no, no,” Nameer mumbled, backing himself against the closed door. “The wolves cannot know that we’re here in San Jose.  We need to live free and independently, away from their oppressive influence.”

“Nameer,” Gunnar replied, standing up and taking the tiger by the arm to gently make him sit in one of the exam room chairs, “I’m not here to force the tigers into governmental oversight by the Council.  If you prefer to live independently and anonymously, that’s your option.  I am here because a great crime has been committed against a bear and a tiger within our continental boundaries, and my job as Councilmember is to seek justice for both.

“What crime has been committed against the bear, Siku?” Nameer asked.  “It was he who offered my son up to the other bears to be assaulted and raped.”

“No,” Gunnar replied, “Siku loves your son.  He never would have put Shivay in the position where any harm could come to him if he had known the intentions of the other bears at that party.  What you must understand is that the actions of those bears were not normal or customary behavior within werebear society.  Siku thought that he was hosting a pleasant get-together to meet the local bears at his new home.  While werebears do tend to mix friendly socialization and casual sex, we do not ever force ourselves upon another, and we take our responsibility as the protectors of others, the job for which we were created, with the utmost seriousness.

“Therefore, two crimes have been committed that must be set right.  The first is the assault on your son which requires the apprehension and arrest of the werebear known as Colt.  He appears to be the de-facto leader of the bears in this city and is responsible for their behavior and corruption.  We believe there were about ten other bears who participated in Shivay’s assault, and they will be punished for their crime along with Colt.  The remainder of the werebears in this region, once removed from Colt’s influence, will be rehabilitated and useful work will be found for them outside of the male prostitution forced upon them by Colt.”

“You say that there were two crimes committed,” Nameer said, gazing up at the bear who leaned against the exam table as he explained the situation, “What was the second?”

“The second crime was the breakup in the aftermath of the assault of two were-creatures who were fated to become Mates.  Siku still loves your son with all of his heart, and if Shivay loved Siku as much in return, it would be difficult for those feelings to disappear so easily once the heat of the moment had passed and Shivay had time to collect his thoughts.”

“I feared as much when Shivay showed up at our door late on Saturday night, reeking of the scent of multiple bears and sex,” Nameer replied, looking sadly at the floor, “But what is done is done.  When his mother allowed him to return home that night, it was under the terms that he would leave that part of his life behind forever and commit himself to the marriage that she had so meticulously arranged for him.  He meets his bride in two days, and they are to be married in two weeks. Nothing can change that now.”

“As long as he isn’t married yet, the door to Shivay’s true self and happy life is not yet closed.  We could use your help in righting this wrong and reuniting two lovers and Mates once again.”

“If I help you,” Nameer said, “My wife will personally disembowel me and have my pelt made into a wall hanging for her study.”

He sighed and looked up at the bear once again.

“But, if I don’t help you, I’ll be forced to watch my son go through the same miserable life as I have, so the choice is clear.  I will help you and Siku’s true bear friends bring my son and his Mate back together.”

“Can you tell me your address so that I may go and speak with him myself?” Gunnar asked.

“Yes but give me a day to speak with my son and reason with him.  I may be able to get him to leave home once again and reunite with his bear on his own.  If I can’t convince him myself, I have an idea when the best time would be for you to arrive at my home with Siku and the rest of your bears to make the greatest impact on my son… and my wife”

“Fathers… and Papas, always know best,” Gunnar replied. “I’ll give you my phone number.  Let me know how things go with Shivay over the next day and we can make plans for their reunion!”

Copyright © 2021 Grumpy Bear; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.

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The best moment of the chapter was the discussion between the two crews.

The worst was Colt grabbing Mike from behind.

The most decisive was convincing Nameer that Siku was Shivay's true mate, and the bears of SF were corrupt and would be held accountable for the rape of Shivay.

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