Florence felt the sudden surge of his hot, throbbing shaft ramming upward into her tight passage and she had to cry out, but the fantastic, lascivious delight of the animal cock fucking into her ovaled lips was beyond anything she'd imagined. It was beginning to taste even sweeter, and the way it plunged taperedly into her mouth was driving her wild with pure animal lust. Sex at home had grown dull and lifeless for her, but the perverted thrill of this incredible experience was almost too much to bear. Arnie was screwing into her puckered anus, something she'd grown accustomed to and she could take it or leave it, but Novlik was thrusting his hard animal cock into her mouth and would soon squirt his own life-giving sperm into her in a seething flood... and suddenly she wanted it... she wanted it badly!

She thirsted for his animal cum in her mouth... rushing down her throat... choking her as it spurted in a hot, sticky torrent! Maybe she'd finally cracked up, but that was what she wanted, and she sucked and tongued his glistening pink spear ravenously while Arnie burrowed his stiffened rod into the tender depths of her back passage. She could feel his heavy, sperm-laden balls slapping with a loud thump against the sensitive folds of her cunt, and she closed her eyes, savoring every second of this abandoned, wicked ecstasy she had suddenly found.

"Aaaaagghhh! You're hurting me!" She opened her lips around Novlik's prick pumping into her mouth enough to speak as her husband rammed his cock into the rubbery, yielding depths of her rectum, shoving the soft, tender flesh aside before it until his loins finally collided roughly with her widespread buttocks, flattening them beneath his weight. Every inch of his long, thick prick was buried in her warm, tightly constricting rectum.

Gasping for a quick breath, Flo was unable to move even a little to ease the agonizing pain as her husband's sadistic cock impaled her helplessly, rammed to the hilt in her anus, her thighs split horribly apart. He was showing her no mercy, and she wouldn't satisfy him by begging for any. She fought back the tears as wave after wave of sharp pain shot upward from her obscenely stretching rectal passage. The torture was incredible!

Arnie cursed under his breath with delight, reveling with lewd excitement at the feel of his wife's ass pressing tightly against his hairy pelvis, while he watched Novlik's long, crimson prick sliding wet and glistening between her pursed lips, his strong, sinewy flanks jerking spasmodically while she scratched delicately at his furry animal balls with the nails of one hand. Goddamn, he didn't know if he could take it!

He shoved his loins forward into her tightly puckered tunnel and his eyes focused intently on the stiffened rod that disappeared completely in the stretched, brown hole between the jutting fleshy mounds of her buttocks. He grunted with pleasure and drew the hard, blood-filled shaft out slightly, watching with cruel passion-dazed eyes as the tender pink flanges of tender flesh were pulled out with it; then his cock disappeared once more in the forbidden aperture with his inward thrust that sank his cock again up to the hilt in her rectum. His breathing became faster and suddenly he began rocking rhythmically in and out of her warm clasping channel, deep down into her belly with each and every thrust.

"Oooooh... oooohh... oooohh," Florence moaned around Novlik's ever swelling organ buried in her mouth, as she knelt like a wretched slave before him, committed to his cruel satisfaction. Arnie delighted in watching her lose control like this -- it gave him great amusement to watch her grinding back onto his wet, glistening shaft as it cruelly sodomized her again and again. She seemed to be enjoying the vicious thrusts that spread her tender rectum walls so painfully... enjoying this savage ravishment of her asshole.

Damn, she was incredible! What an unbelievable slut she had become! The pain seemed to be gone, for she was sucking the animal's prick with obvious wild-eyed delight, even reaching down between her spread thighs with her free hand and fingering her own clitoris, rubbing it fiercely in an insane effort to bring on her delicious, all-consuming climax.

Christ, he'd never in his whole life witnessed anything like this! Not even in those wild Alaskan whorehouses he used to visit when he was working freighters. He gaped with amazement at his vicious white cock disappearing and reappearing as he rammed it all the way into her savagely grinding buttocks with each powerful, sadistic thrust. She was taking everything he could throw to her, and was hungry for more. Not even the tiniest bit of his prick could be seen as he buried it relentlessly into the tightly clasping passage, its blood-swollen head straining far up into her tender, hungrily clutching depths.

On and on she sucked at Novlik's pistoning, scarlet prick, her fingers warmly caressing his downy black balls, while her other hand fondled the wet, puckered lips of her own wide-spread slit. He felt her buttocks tighten as she squirmed to suck him up even further into her ravenous belly, filling her taut rectum with his stiffened manhood as she came nearer and nearer to her own fulfillment. He couldn't stand any more, and he began pounding into the hungry furrow furiously, slamming his pelvis against her exposed buttocks so hard he thought he'd split her in half.

Nothing else in the world mattered to Flo except the burning desire ravaging her knotted belly, and where the shame and humiliation should have been, there was only an uncontrollable hunger for more... more! Her ravenous needs grew maddening as Arnie stepped up the pace of his powerful assault on her rearward passage, and her wildly quivering belly and loins screamed desperately for precious relief.

She ground back against his impaling shaft like the insatiable bitch she was, all the while sucking and tonguing the sweet, honey-tasting animal prick fucking deliciously into her throat. She could feel the telltale moans of passion slipping from her lungs. She was nearly there...!

Novlik's massive, sinewy body began to quiver convulsively, and suddenly without warning, Florence's mouth was filled with a great undamming of thick warm liquid which gagged her and slithered and oozed down her hungrily gulping throat. Like a starving animal, she sucked and swallowed, sucked and swallowed while the huge beast whined with ecstatic delight, and her whole body shivered with the pleasurable raptures of unrestrained masochism...

Just as quickly as it came, it was all over, and the huge dog's prick began to deflate and withdraw from her eagerly clasping lips, until finally, the animal rolled from beneath her and got to its feet.

"Oh, yes, yes! Oh... Oooooohhhh..." she moaned pathetically at her panting husband as he pistoned savagely into her wildly stretched rectal passage, streams of sweat running from his body and mingling with her own as they coursed along her thighs and legs. "I-I'm going to cum! I'm going to... Now! Oh, god, NOW!"

As his fiercely battering cock worked itself again and again into her rectum, her hips forced themselves back on the painfully impaling shaft, and she groaned incessantly as the pleasure grew greater... greater... and then -- burst in a dizzying whirl of color. Never had she dreamed Arnie could bring her such incredible blissfulness... never had she known such total and devouring wantonness.

She was spinning out of control in a frenzied rippling orgasm that filled her whole being. She was gone! Nothing else mattered, nothing but those delicious, satisfying chills of pure pleasure coursing through her ravished body.

"Aaaaaaaahhhhhhh..." she screamed, as the blessed, fulfilling relief spread over her naked form, her senses dazed to everything around her in the magnificence of this special moment.

Arnie cursed aloud, still sawing into her savagely with the last of his stored-up strength, thrusting into her so hard she thought his enormous, throbbing prick would rip all the way through her, and burst out her mouth; she moaned pitifully from the pain, but offered no resistance. She felt his strong pelvis snap convulsively against the flattened mounds of her buttocks and then a great, flooding surge of thick, hot semen burst up into her rectum, filling her trembling belly to the brim, and oozing out in a thin, hot rivulet down the inside of her quivering thigh.

She heard him gasp one last satisfied groan of relief and withdraw, his rubbery cock now deflated. Her tightly clasping passage released its grip on his limp organ reluctantly, and he slithered out of her with a wet sucking sound. In its place came a quick, welcome chilling rush of air in her unplugged hole; then, she too fell forward and sprawled exhausted on the carpet, her breasts heaving beneath her.

Florence lay very still for what seemed like a long time, then gathered enough strength to climb shakily to her feet, wiping the thin trail of semen from her thighs, retrieving her dress from the floor. She could feel Arnie's eyes on the naked flesh of her back even before she turned and faced him. When she finally did, there was no mistaking the mask of contempt twisting his face, but she'd expected nothing less. There could be no mercy, no understanding about something like this. Subjecting her to every unspeakable indecency he could dream up was not enough; only by rubbing her face in it could he really be satisfied.

"You really are a slut, you know that," he sneered. "You're even worse than I thought."

Flo knew better than to argue with him when he was like this. "I'm going to take a bath now, and go to bed. I'll see you." She turned slowly and made her way to the bedroom, her equilibrium off from the dizzying spin her mind had suffered.

Arnie reached down beside his favorite chair, his hand touching Novlik's furry head. "You liked that all right, didn't you pal?"

Novlik answered with a quick swish of his thick tail.

"Well, if all goes well, old buddy," grinned Arnie, rubbing the mammoth dog's forehead, "maybe in a few days you'll have another playmate... A nice young one for you this time!"


Chapter 6

Winter was making one last dying effort as Ginny stepped down from the commercial prop-jet at Whitehorse, Yukon Territory. The falling snow was so thick she couldn't see the hangar as she made her way toward the charter line headquarters, falling in huge wet snowflakes that stuck to her like glue. She was soaked to the skin when she finally reached the shelter of the hangar, and the tiny office of Northern Lines Charter Service.

"I'm Mrs. Dennison," she said hopefully, "I think my brother-in-law made arrangements for a flight with your company. Have I got the right place?"

A young-looking man wearing a ski jacket looked up from the pile of charts on the large table, "Yes, ma'am... you've come to the right place, all right. I'm Rick Scovill, your pilot."

Ginny's first thought was that he looked much too young to be flying a plane. "Oh... Well, I guess I'm ready anytime you are," she smiled.

"That might be quite a while, ma'am," replied the pilot, "I guess you didn't notice all that snow coming down out there."

Ginny looked out the window, as if she was seeing the near-blizzard for the first time. "Gee I guess I wasn't thinking," she said, a little embarrassed. "I just never thought about it, I suppose. But don't the planes take off in rain and snow and such?... I thought I remembered flying in the snow one time, coming home to California from Indiana."

The young pilot laughed, "Wait till you see the plane we'll be using. It's not much like those big jets you're used to."

"Oh, I flew up here in one... A small one, I mean. It only seated about twenty-five or thirty people."

Rick stepped back and opened a narrow door to the hangar behind the office; a cold gust swept through like a winter storm. "That plane over there... that's what I meant when I said small." He pointed his index finger toward a well-maintained L-16, a World War II spotter plane.

"That thing?" shrieked Ginny. "You must be kidding! It looks like a toy!"

Rick motioned her through the doorway into the hangar, and Ginny followed close behind, shivering in the unheated immenseness of the old building. They passed a dozen or more larger planes; she'd seen photographs of similar ones in magazines. Even those looked small after the commercial liner she'd flown to Whitehorse on, but this tiny thing was too much!

"Well, here she is," said Rick proudly, opening the flimsy door on the pilot's side. Inside were two seats, one in front, one in back. "What'ya think of her? Quite a cute little number isn't she?"

Ginny shook her head incredulously. "Cute, yes... but can it fly?"

"Sh-h-h-h," whispered Rick, "don't let Nancy hear you talk like that."

"Nancy?" Ginny looked around for another face, but they were apparently alone in the huge hangar.

"Yeah... That's her name. Nancy, meet Mrs. Dennison from California."

Ginny felt rather awkward, never having been introduced to an airplane before, and she didn't know quite what to reply. "Uh... could we go back inside your office, Mr. Scovill? I'm freezing to death."

"Sure," answered Rick. "This was terribly inconsiderate of me. I forgot you aren't used to our Canadian weather yet. But you will be if you stay up on the Mackenzie very long."

Ginny had to think for a moment before her memory told her that was the name of the big river Arnie and Florence lived on. It flowed north, to the Arctic Ocean, she remembered from one of Arnie's old letters.

"I don't think I'll be up there too long," said Ginny.

"Maybe just for the summer."

Rick smiled, "If that's the case, you might not see any real North country weather at all. It'll be more like California in the summer... maybe even a little hotter."

"Hotter? I thought it was up close to the North Pole or something."

"You haven't done your homework, ma'am," said Rick, stifling a laugh. "Norman Wells is one helluva way from the North Pole... if you'll pardon my language, ma'am."

Ginny could tell already she had a lot to learn about this strange part of the world. Strange at least to a small-town girl from Indiana. Cold weather and snow she'd come prepared for, but not for a California climate. "Just how warm is it up there in the summer?"

Rick thought for a moment. "Well, it depends on what part of the summer, such as it is. There's really only about two months of what you'd call summer. But sometimes it gets up in the nineties in the middle of the day... though it might drop below freezing that same night."

"Ninety? I brought all my winter clothes!"

"Well, I wouldn't worry about it," laughed Rick. "Remember -- it drops down awfully low sometimes at night. And you never know when a real cold wave is going to come through. Once in a while they get some awfully cold storms off the Arctic ice whistling up the Mackenzie."

Ginny was beginning to wonder if she'd made the right move in coming up here at all. But that had never crossed her mind back in Los Angeles; just the chance to get away from all her troubles and spend some time with relatives, even if they were in-laws, was all the incentive she needed to make up her mind. She hoped Fred wouldn't be too terribly angry when he got her letter. She hadn't had time to write him for his permission and wait for an answer. With the way he wrote letters, she might have been standing around for months waiting for Fred to say yes.

* * *

It was mid-afternoon when the freak snowstorm blew over, leaving in its wake a beautiful, cloudless blue sky that stretched from horizon to horizon. Ginny could make out the hazy shapes of distant mountains, far off to the north, ringed with cloud-like fog and squatting like watchdogs of the untamed Northwest Territories beyond, blocking out the influx of civilization from the warmer, less awesome south.

"Is that where we're going?" asked Ginny, peering out the misty window of Scovill's office. "It looks awfully rugged. Is there any chance... I mean, is it dangerous?"

Rick was pulling on his insulated heavy jacket. "No, not terribly... But it will be cold. Is that the only coat you have?"

Ginny was wearing the heaviest jacket she owned, one she never got a chance to wear in Los Angeles. "Yeah, but I've got a sweater in my suitcase. I could put that on under my coat, if you think I'll need it."

"Don't bother," answered Rick, opening a locker behind the desk. "I think I can find something in here you can wear. Your brother-in-law should be able to get a real coat for you when you get to Norman Wells."

Rick picked up her suitcase from the combination baggage agent-ticket clerk in the tiny terminal building across the wide landing apron from the charter hangar and strapped it down in the back of the L-16 and Ginny climbed in, feeling more than a little embarrassed as she bent far over to maneuver into the back seat, revealing her thighs way up past the bottom of her white panties. No time for modesty, she told herself, and strapped the broad safety belt around her waist. Her elbow bumped the inside of the fuselage wall, and to her amazement, it gave like cloth!

"Rick! What's this plane made of?" she asked, almost hoping it had been her imagination.

"Oh, if you mean the fuselage covering, it's fabric... a lot cheaper than metal, and a helluva lot lighter."

"Fabric! You mean like cloth... cotton or something like that?" she asked.

"Yeah, something like that. But don't worry," he assured her. "It's airworthy. This little baby's been flying since 1943, and I don't think she's gonna quit on us now."

Ginny shook her head, unable to believe what she was about to do. Halfway across the Northwest Territories in a cloth-covered plane! I must be out of my mind!

* * *

The tiny L-16 leaped into the air almost before Ginny realized they were even moving down the runway, and before she could catch her breath, they were high over the Whitehorse airport, banking steeply as they left the pattern. The scurrying airport workers grew smaller and smaller, and soon they were just a dozen or so ants zipping back and forth between the six-inch airplanes scattered around the terminal.

"How high are we, Rick?" she shouted over the high-pitched whine of the single engine, leaning as far forward as her safety strap would allow.

"Not very high yet! About twenty-eight hundred feet! We'll climb to four thousand for the rest of the trip!"

The tree cover grew denser as they left the paved streets and houses of Whitehorse far behind, and the only break in the thick forest was an occasional logging road winding through the trees to a logged-over section. Animal life seemed everywhere; white-tailed deer leaped and bounded along beneath them, as if chasing the tiny shadow of their plane. She thought she spotted a huge brown bear, but she couldn't be sure, and Rick was using the radio, trying to reach the airstrip at Norman Wells.