They flew on for hours, seemingly in a straight line, and the excitement of flying soon became a monotonous bore, as they passed over miles of identical terrain, each mile no different from the dozens of others they'd left behind.

Rick started to spiral down, and Ginny readied herself for her reunion with Arnie and Flo, only to be disappointed when Rick leaned over the seat to let her know this stop was only for gas, and that she wouldn't even leave the plane. He cut the throttle and coasted in to a muddy landing strip -- without a name, and only a couple of Quonset huts to identify it.

They taxied over to an enormous red-painted tank, and a young boy, not more than twelve or thirteen obligingly filled their tank and wiped the dirt and grime from the plane's windscreen. Ginny stayed in her seat while Rick checked over all the fittings and the landing gear, and in a few minutes, they were back in the air, continuing their persistent northward course.

The constant whine of the airplane's engine soon lulled Ginny to sleep, and she dozed for over an hour, her head against the plastic window at her side. She might have slept all the way to Norman Wells, had the plane's course not suddenly shifted.

She blinked her eyes open groggily as the plane banked gently and began to head in a slightly altered direction.

"Are we almost there?" she asked. "I thought I felt the plane change course."

"Not quite!" shouted Rick. "But we're following one of the Mackenzie's tributaries. You'll be able to see the Mackenzie River pretty soon!"

Ginny anxiously searched the forest below, but could only catch an occasional flash of silver from the tiny stream beneath them. Tributary, indeed, she thought, why it looks more like a drainage ditch!

She looked away long enough to adjust her seat belt, and to maneuver her legs around a bit to ease the muscle cramps, and when she gazed out the window again, there was a long, widening giant of a river across their path, disappearing in the distance in the flat, treeless plain of the Arctic.

"There it is! You'll be in Norman Wells in about fifteen minutes!"

Ginny felt her stomach suddenly tighten, and for the first time, she was afraid of what she might find in Norman Wells -- after all, she hadn't ever really gotten to know either of these people, even though they were Fred's relatives.

Oh, I hope they'll like me... I hope everything works out all right...


Chapter 7

"Ginny darling!" came a loud shrill voice from across the taxi ramp, almost before Ginny could climb from the plane. It was Florence, but she didn't recognize the man with her, unless Arnie had changed quite a bit since the last time she saw him. This man was taller, and very blond, like maybe he was a Scandinavian.

"How are you, honey?!" Florence threw her arms around her as she stepped on the wheel cover, and then, shakily, onto the asphalt. "How was your trip? Was the weather okay?"

"Everything was fine, Flo... I was in good hands." Rick came around after chocking the wheels. "This is Rick Scovill, Rick, this is Florence Dennison, my sister-in-law and..."

"And this is Gus," injected Flo. "He's my husband's foreman. Arnie's out on the river checking some landings that got broken during the winter, but he said he'd be back by tonight."

Flo signed the pad Rick was holding in his hand, and Gus grabbed Ginny's bag. "Thanks Rick, I had a wonderful time!" shouted Ginny as they walked toward the jeep parked by the landing strip. Rick waved goodbye, and headed for the hangar for a rest before the long lonely trip back to Whitehorse.

"Well, what'ya think of our little town?" asked Flo as they drove down the muddy street to the Dennison place on the northern edge of the settlement, past a surprising number of frame houses, some of the newer ones built on short stilts, like terribly fat birds perched in the melting slush of springtime.

"That's certainly a strange way to build a house, isn't it? Is your house built like that, Flo?" Ginny asked.

"No, no... Ours is just a plain house. Those stilts are kind of a new idea. It's supposed to keep the permafrost from doing any damage or something... maybe Arnie could explain it a little better."

Gus steered the bucking jeep off the main street and up a little hill, through a dense thicket of green trees. Ginny could feel the temperature drop several degrees as they left the warm sunshine behind.

The house soon came into view, and Ginny was surprised to find it so large. From their letters, she would have guessed it as half this size. It looked like an overblown log cabin, and in fact, most of the exterior was made of large, rough-cut logs; it looked quite comfortable and cozy nestled among the thick trees.

"Well, Ginny, here we are. Home sweet home," said Flo as they stepped from the jeep. "I hope you like it, but if you don't, keep your mouth shut around Arnie. He's crazy about this place. Next to Novlik, it's his favorite, I guess I come in about third or fourth." She winked at Gus as she spoke, but he didn't reply, just carried the suitcase to the front door and returned to the jeep, the motor still running.

"I don't want to seem stupid so soon," said Ginny as they entered the house, "but who's Novlik?"

"You mean I haven't written about Novlik? I should have devoted a whole letter to that animal."

"Animal?" Ginny looked puzzled.

"Animal is right, sweetie," exclaimed Flo.

"You see, Novlik is Arnie's dog... mostly Malamute and Husky... and the two of them are inseparable. Wherever Arnie is right now, you can be sure that dog is within ten feet. I swear, he'd let him sleep with us if I hadn't put my foot down. I guess you'll be the lucky one, since you'll be sleeping in his room."

Ginny was more confused than ever. "His room? What..."

"But don't worry about it," interrupted Flo. "Novlik doesn't use the bed. He sleeps on an old sheepskin right by the door. You'll hardly notice he's around. You aren't allergic to dogs, are you?"

Ginny shook her head. "No, not that I know of. When do I get to meet this fantastic dog. I'm kinda curious to see what he can do."

Flo nearly burst out laughing at that last comment, but managed to keep a straight face. "Oh, you'll be surprised, honey... You'll be most surprised."


Chapter 8

Ginny was sleeping soundly when Arnie finally got home from a long day on the river, and he thought it best not to wake her. He thought for a moment he might have to, since Novlik had never seen her before and might get spooked by a strange person in the house, but he was as tired as his master, and was dreaming dog-dreams by the time Arnie could get out of his wet clothes, curled up peacefully on his sheepskin.

"I'll introduce them in the morning," said Arnie. "Novlik wouldn't hurt her anyway, even if they ran into each other in the night." With that, he crept quietly off to bed, dying to get rid of a hard-on he'd carried around all after-noon.

"Spread those legs, bitch," he whispered, so as not to wake up Ginny. "I'm coming in."

Flo had learned years ago not to argue with him when he was in one of his moods, and - half asleep - she obediently spread her bare thighs for Arnie's satisfaction, muttering something about being cold and not to wake up their guest.

"Don't worry about her," grumbled Arnie, poking his stiffened prick up between his wife's thighs without even a hint of foreplay. "She's probably heard people fucking before. Just put it in, I'll take care of the rest."

Flo obligingly worked the swollen head of his cock between the fleshy lips of her pussy, rubbing it back and forth a little on her clitoris to get her slit moist enough to keep from hurting her. Arnie felt the bulbous head slip into her tight passage, and rammed it home with a quick, brutal slap of his loins against her upturned pelvis.

"Ooowwww! Goddamn, take it easy," she blurted, forgetting in her sharp pain that Ginny was only a few feet away. Arnie didn't ease off for a second, but kept on pounding his thick cock into her tender channel until the warm juices made it less painful, and the soft, pink walls began to loosen a little.

* * *

Ginny was wide awake she had been since Arnie brought the dog into the house and began to undress for bed. With no real reason, she'd just kept quiet, and now she lay quietly, almost afraid to breathe, lest they hear her and somehow know she'd been listening to their most private lovemaking all along. She fought the urge to eavesdrop... she even put a pillow over her head, but it was no use.

The sounds coming from their open bedroom door were drawing her like a moth to a flame, and she couldn't stop herself. Somehow, it was suddenly wickedly exciting to hear two people making love, and Flo was certainly making no effort to stifle her groans. In a steady, sure rhythm, Flo moaned again and again, and Ginny could hear the bed squeak as it went up and down... up and down.

She could stand it no longer; as evil and wrong as it might be, she had to have a look. She could crouch beside the foot of her own bed and see easily into their bedroom. And their room was partially illuminated by the dim glow of the night-light in the hall, so their figures were outlined clearly. Moving slowly, careful not to make the bed squeak, Ginny lowered herself to the floor beside her bed, and crawled the couple of feet to the end.

She nearly gave herself away when she got her first real glimpse of the two of them, Arnie hunched over Flo's tiny body like some sort of savage monster, his haunches rising and falling as Flo moaned softly her soulful gasps punctuated with an occasional sharp, muffled cry as Arnie pounded into her. Ginny nearly gasped herself from the wicked excitement of watching them like this, but she succeeded in covering her mouth before it was too late.

She could even see Arnie's cock when he rocked back, as it slithered wetly from Flo's wide-spread slit, pulling little ridges of pink, ragged flesh with it as it withdrew from her wet, clasping vaginal sheath. Ginny felt the wickedness fan the dormant coals of desire in her belly -- never in her life had she watched anyone else make love. It wasn't something she would have guessed would be exciting, but how wrong she would have been. Already she could feel the dampness spreading between her tightly clenched thighs, and she struggled to fight the growing temptation to reach down between her legs and quell the rising flames of lustful desire as best she could. But she knew that was wrong, and she promised herself she wouldn't do it...

Her eyes wide with amazement, she watched as Arnie's buttocks raised again and again, his long, thick prick burrowing into Flo's wide-open vagina with deep, powerful thrusts. Flo's moans grew louder, and Arnie's strong rhythm increased.

Ginny fought it as long as she could, and when she could stand it not a second longer, she ran her hand down over the mound of her pelvis and between her legs, hesitating there a moment before she did an awful thing... something she'd steadfastly denied herself all the long, lonely months while Fred was gone. But she had to... she had to before this agonizing flame in her belly consumed her alive!

Gingerly, she touched the moist, fleshy crevice down between her legs with the fingers of her right hand, then explored for the sensitive, pleasure-giving bud of her clitoris. A shiver of ecstasy raced over her body as her fingers made warm, wet contact, and she hesitated again.

Oh, God, I can't... I just can't do this awful thing!

But her desire proved stronger than her willpower, and slowly, lightly at first, her fingers began to caress the throbbing nipple of her clitoris, sending wave after wave of delicious pleasure coursing through her body.

Oh, it feels so good... so good!

So great was her enjoyment, she failed to notice as a shadowy, massive shape crept toward her from the corner opposite her bed. Her eyes were half-closed, as she opened them only for another forbidden glimpse of Arnie's thick shaft pistoning in and out of his wife's hungrily clasping pussy-lips. Suddenly she snapped like a whip, leaping forward almost half a foot, still on her knees beside the bed.

My God, what is that cold nuzzling between my legs? What is it?!

She looked back over her shoulder, almost afraid of what she might find. It was Arnie's dog, Novlik! His cold, wet nose was sniffing back between the cleft cheeks of her buttocks, rooting as if searching for something in the nakedness of her exposed thighs.

What can I do? Oh, dear God, what can I do?

She tried to shoo the beast away, afraid to touch him for fear the mammoth animal might take off half her arm, but the huge dog seemed determined, and Ginny had no choice but to remain motionless, quivering with fear, as the savage animal nuzzled her crotch like she was no more than a bitch standing before him!

Her teeth gritted, she did her best to remain still, but every touch of the dog's nose sent fresh shivers of fright racing along her spine. She couldn't cry out... how could she explain this to Arnie and Flo? She'd never be able to look them in the face again if they knew she had been watching them like a common voyeur, spying on them in their own house.

She shivered anew as the dog's long, pink tongue suddenly lashed out from his lips, licking the sensitive folds of her vagina. Her whole body tensed, and again she tried to brush the huge animal away, but he wouldn't budge. She even summoned enough courage to try shoving him, but he growled softly but menacingly when she pushed his muscular haunches aside.

She was hopelessly trapped! There was nothing to do but remain still and wait for the frightening beast to go away!

Again his tongue licked over her puckered anal crevice, coursing down over the fleshy ridges of her quivering pussy, along the deep crevice of her buttocks, and up again past the taut, brown-ringed hole of her rectum. She trembled in abject terror as the animal licked her crotch from one end to the other... and he showed no signs of quitting.

Like the lashing tongue of a lizard, Novlik's rough tongue licked again and again at the moist, warm juiciness of her vaginal cleft, and she found herself quivering from his savage contact -- not from fear, but from something she suddenly couldn't control, a strange sort of primitive excitement that emanated from deep within her naked vaginal crevice.

What's happening to me!? What's going on inside my body?!

What is it!?

Novlik's bristly tongue raced over her clitoris faster and faster as the big dog lapped up the tangy, tasty wetness from her narrow slit, gulping it down eagerly. Ginny's belly was knotted to its breaking point, and she strained to hold back a tortured, relief-giving scream.

I can't stand anymore! I can't stand it!

Novlik's hungrily lapping tongue snaked deep between the soft, pliable lips of her moist pussy, licking out every drop of her precious juices. The rough tip brushed over her pulsing clitoris again and again, each time sending a convulsive shiver racing along her tightly-clenched furrow and along her naked spine.

His long, probing tongue wormed into the warm, moist entrance to the very mouth of her cuntal channel, lapping out the warm wetness deep inside her fleshy tunnel. Her body trembled out of control... she didn't know how much more she could take before he licked her to orgasm and then suddenly she knew... none...

"Oh, no! Oh, no!... Ooooohhhh..."

She clamped her hands over her lips to muffle her deep, throaty moan and fell forward, her weak, wobbly knees unable to support her weight a second longer. She lay there, heaving convulsively in the dying throes of her sudden climax, afraid to look up for fear that Arnie and Flo had heard her gasping moan and would be towering over her.

She opened her eyes slowly -- cautiously -- but Arnie and Flo were still on the bed, Arnie's hips bucking savagely as he neared his climax. Still fascinated, she watched a second longer, and saw Arnie's buttocks quiver visibly, then an oozing cascade of white stickiness spurted from his swollen, throbbing prick as he pulled it from his wife's clasping, hungrily nibbling passage just in time, drenching her belly and pelvis with a hot white spray of semen.

The huge dog left her alone, and calmly trotted back to his sheepskin bed, as if nothing had happened. Ginny pulled herself back onto the bed with her last bit of strength, still gasping for breath, unable to comprehend what had happened to her.

She yanked the blankets over her trembling nakedness and cried herself, finally, to sleep.


Chapter 9

It wasn't easy, but the next two days, Wednesday and Thursday, were enough to help Ginny forget the unforgettable -- those horrifying minutes at the mercy of Arnie's vicious dog, the incredible depths of degradation she sank to, even worse than her experiences with Marty Bondman back in California. Ginny had awoke the next morning feeling worse, perhaps, than on any day of her life, but by midmorning, she'd nearly forgotten the depravity of the night before.

Flo rushed her out of the house almost before it was light, and Gus was waiting for them when they made their way through the mud and slush to the post office. Ginny posted the letter to Fred she'd written on the plane coming up, and they sped away for a long day of sightseeing, beginning with the rugged drive east of town to the foothills of the Mackenzie Mountains. Those towering, rocky peaks were even more beautiful than she'd pictured them from Arnie's letters, remote and forbidding, almost untouched by human despoilation, they rose silently on the far horizon, like the Great Wall of China, running as far north as she could see.

Gus drove them up into the hilly meadows for an even closer look, and parked the jeep nearly ten miles from town, on a treeless bluff that afforded a picture-book view both of the river behind them and the majestic Mackenzies ahead.

"Can you drive all the way to the mountains?" asked Ginny.

Gus shook his head. "No... but there are horse and foot trails. Some of them date back to the eighteen-hundreds. You can cross them even, if you are very brave. The hunting up there is fabulous... better than any place in the Territories."