Project Ushanka

The arctic was as it should be. The wind blew across undisturbed water, smooth snow and ice floe alike. Icebergs broke from their glaciers and wandered south until they melted; just in time for a new iceberg to break off the same glacier. All was as it should be, the cycle in the arctic remained the same for the last few million years. However, the never-ending cycle was disturbed, its silence shattered by the sound of a loud gasp.

Tachanka breathed in deeply as his eyes shot open within his helmet. He immediately recoiled and held his hands up to block the sunlight reflecting off the snow and ocean. With squinted eyes, he looked around and took in his surroundings.

All around him was water and wandering ice, behind him was his yacht, beneath him was another iceberg. Standing atop the ice, he looked closer at his ship to see it had collided with an iceberg, rendering it immobile. Taking a step towards the yacht, he tripped over an empty vodka bottle and saw his footprints from the night before.

The impressions in the snow had been smoothed out and distorted by the wind. However, the tale they told was one in which Tachanka had drunkenly abandoned the ship only to pass out about forty meters away.

Looking back up, he continued his trek back to the yacht, "I wonder what the crew's been doing?" he thought to himself.

Reaching a cliff, he slid down and came face-to-face with the problem. A large part of the ship's hull had been gouged out, seemingly by an iceberg. Oddly enough, it had been shoddily patched with wooden planks.

Tachanka approached and inspected the wood, muttering to himself, "This won't do at all, we'll never cross the sea like this."

Pausing for a moment to think, he concluded, "I'd rather not drown, best not let them think it'll work."

Tachanka turned so his shoulder faced the planks. Bracing his arm, he launched himself into the patch, breaking through easily and landing on the cold metal floor. Rising from the rubble, he dusted himself off smugly and inspected the room.

The entire room was frozen over, with frost lining the walls and ice covering the computer screens. In the far corner, a mass of seemingly burnt corpses lay huddled together. Tachanka strode across the room, taking care not to slip.

Tachanka stared at the pile of desiccated corpses in wonder. After losing himself in thought for several minutes, he was finally struck with a realization so profound that he uttered it vocally.

"Oh, they froze to death," Tachanka paused for a moment to process this, "talk about freezer burn. Хахаха!"

After his hearty chuckle, he gathered himself enough to sit against the frosty wall opposite to the corpses of the crew. Withdrawing his emergency vodka from his pocket, he took a long swig and listened to the wind. Far off, an iceberg collided. Between the vodka, his perpetual hangover, and the frigid wind, Tachanka shivered himself to sleep.

Tachanka stirred from his hypothermic coma to the strangest sound one can hear on a wrecked ship in the arctic: his name.

"Tachanka… Tachanka… wake up!"

Tachanka stirred, "A woman's voice?" he thought to himself.

Opening his eyes, he was met with a most peculiar sight. He was seemingly afloat in an endless abyss. A few meters in front of him, an oddly clad woman was frozen in a block of ice. Scanning his surroundings, he determined that she was the source of the voice.

He approached the block of ice, hearing her voice again as he neared, "Tachanka," she said with a heavy German accent, "I need you Tachanka."

Tachanka started, "first, who are you? I've been screwed over by women frozen in ice before."

She replied with a tone of arrogant impatience, "Ach, typical. I am the Persona of the great vessel, Sie Prinz Eugen!"

Tachanka paused to look at her. She was pale, had long ashy hair, seemingly had a laurel wreath made of red metal. She wore what resembled an old German army uniform that was clearly unfit for being frozen. Her iron cross glinted despite the lack of sunlight, as did the buttons on what could be called her service-coat. Completely lacking in sides and pants, it was more akin to an apron paired with thigh-high socks. Clearly more of a fit for a waifu than a ship.

"Oi! Stop looking at me und listen!" She shouted at him.

Tachanka refocused himself and strained to maintain eye contact, "Да?"

"Ja, I am sie ship, und we are stuck in sie ice. You need to free me so we can escape."

"I must have mistaken boat fuel for vodka again…" Tachanka muttered to himself.

"Nein! I am very real! I don't look like my old self since mein parts were used to make this yacht after I was disassembled."

She narrowed her gaze and spoke again, "So little of mein body is left, I can't afford for the yacht to sink. That is why you must concentrate and break me out of here!"

Tachanka folded his arms in skepticism, "You expect me to break you out? With what? I'm as Russian as the next камрад but even I can't punch through that ice."

"Nein! Not mit your hands! Use that rock-hard cock of yours!"

Tachanka looked down at his pants and saw his ever-present bulge, "Oh right, I'm within a meter of something fuckable."

"Ja," she started, "use it for good for once. I've been twerking the ice away behind me, but I've done all I can. You need to chisel the rest away!"

Tachanka positioned himself on the far side of the ice block, "alright, I have to say I don't usually do this, but if you insist it's a survival situation…"

Tachanka unzipped his pants and felt his cock shoot outward having been bent in his trousers. Analyzing the ice, he found a thin point and pressed his second head into the frozen water. A few seconds went by before he had melted an indentation.

Taking a deep breath, he pulled back and began his locomotive-like thrusting. Feeling his dick bend outward against the cold mass, Tachanka tightened his grip on the ice. A few minutes more, and he was nearly balls-deep. The melted water began to act as lube as Tachanka was near the end of his sexual stamina.

Sensing what was going on, Prinz shouted, "Ja, quick, cum in mein ice-hole!"

Tachanka swiftly uttered a "No hetero'" before feeling his girthy love-cucumber pulsate with his baby-gravy.

The first spasm filled the ice with such volume at such pressure that he was launched back, landing with his cock up like a ship at full-mast. He felt his penis pulse one more time as the rest of the ice was doused in 100% Russian Сметаной.

Tachanka felt his head grow light as his erection slumped to the side. Feeling the weight of his helmet, he raised his head up. Prinz's arms erupted from the ice, causing the whole block to crack under the semen streaks. With a thundering blast, Prinz forced itself out from within the frozen prison.

"Ha-ha! I am free once again!"

Prinz turned towards Tachanka and extended a hand to help him up, "Now for the next part: you need to turn sie key! I am sie ship, but even I have my limits. We have just enough fuel to make it to Vladivostok. Hurry!"

Tachanka breathed in sharply through his nostrils, feeling his nose-hairs freeze. He scanned his surroundings, "Back on the ship again." He thought to himself.

Standing up, he looked again at the pile of frozen bodies. One's hand clutched a shining piece of steal. Reaching in and snapping the desiccated arm off, Tachanka recovered the key and made for the navigation room.

His mind racing as he found the ignition, Tachanka looked at the fuel gage before remarking, "Hmm, just enough to make it to Vladivostok…"

Seeing the other dials move and the wheel turn by itself, he sat back in the Captain's chair and swore to himself, "I'm never going to Japan again."