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 NINE
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."
"Wow, I'd sure like to ride up there… I'll bet the scenery's fantastic!" exclaimed Ginny, standing on the jeep's fender for a better look. "I sure wish I'd brought my camera. I left in such a hurry this morning, I forgot all about it."
"Don't worry about getting pictures," said Flo. "We'll be up here plenty of times. It's one of the most beautiful picnic spots around. Sometimes on week-ends, half the village is up here."
"Oh, I don't think I'd like that," Ginny decided. "Too many people would just spoil it. I like it like this."
Florence unpacked the sandwiches she'd thoughtfully brought along, and the three of them enjoyed a leisurely lunch high on the top of the world, a million miles from the nearest freeway or traffic jam, and completely free of pollution and noise. Ginny couldn't recall when she'd spent a more pleasant morning. Once in a while, when she'd look at Flo, she'd remember last night, and Flo's naked genitals right before her curious eyes. And more important, she'd remember everything that happened… including those horrible few minutes with Novlik. But the sun and the cobalt-blue sky were the perfect cure, and by afternoon, she'd nearly put those frightful memories out of her mind.
They wound their way back through the forest, back down the hills, and arrived back in Norman Wells in time to watch the season's first cargo barge heading north, bound for Inuvik, and the gas fields of Alaska's North Slope. It wasn't much to look at, just a squared-off rust-colored hulk being towed by a chunky, smoke-spitting little tug, but it seemed that everyone in town was lining the banks for a peek.
"Why all the excitement?" asked Ginny when they left the jeep near the center of town. "Haven't they ever seen a barge before."
"That's a special barge, Ginny," explained Flo, "the first one heading for the Arctic this season. Those barges and tugs are the lifeblood of this town, and the people don't forget it. That tug-pilot will probably get a hero's welcome when he reaches Inuvik, all the way north on the Mackenzie."
"Is that an Eskimo town? I mean, with igloos and all that sort of thing?" Ginny asked.
Flo laughed, "I'm sorry, honey, I shouldn't make fun. I guess everyone back in the States think the Eskimos still live in igloos. The truth is, Inuvik has a lot of Eskimos, but they live in wooden houses just like we do. Nothing very romantic and exciting about that, I suppose."
"Gee, I guess there's a lot about the north country that isn't like the storybooks, huh?" Ginny surmised.
"Right… even the famous Mountie dog sleds are gone. They've replaced the last ones with gasoline-powered snowmobiles now."
"The next thing you know, you'll have skyscrapers and crowded freeways right here in Norman Wells," sighed Ginny.
"Well, not any time soon, I hope… C'mon, I told Gus to meet us down at the docks. He's taking us for a ride on the company boat."
"Great! That sounds like a lot of fun. Do you do this all the time?"
"No, no," laughed Flo, "only when we have guests. The rest of the time I just sit around the house and wait for Arnie to come home; he likes me around when he comes in."
Ginny remembered last night and blushed, then quickly asked, "how about friends? Do you know most of the people in town?" she asked.