In Blizzard

Lis hadn't seen it coming. Instinctively, she had thrown her head and her upper body to the side, the falling tree hitting her left side, crushing her left leg and pulling her under. She had fallen unconscious, the pain was so intense.

She came to her senses. The huge tree held her in an iron grip, she could not free herself. With great effort, she managed to reach the bearskin cape and covered herself. It was insanely cold. She didn't want to faint again, she had to stay awake because Rik would come looking for her and then she could call out. The Bearslayer rifle lay less than two meters from her, just out of reach. She dozed, because that was the only way she could bear the pain. Her life passed her by like a carnival parade as she dozed.

Her family lived in Louisiana on a huge plantation around 1835. She had turned 14, her body had changed and they said she was a beautiful woman. No one said she was a beautiful child, but a beautiful woman. Even her father complimented her, but he was a terrible womanizer and his lewd expressions made Lis blush. He fell drunk over the doorstep of her bedroom and stayed there until morning. He grinned stupidly, it was of course the fault of the stupid doorstep and not of the senseless drunk. Sure.

He never stumbled over the doorstep again, he stepped up to her bed, pulled the protesting Lis's nightgown over her head and lay down with his naked daughter. He stroked her body, he caressed every inch of her body, he obviously knew exactly how and where to rub her properly to get her hot. He seemed to know the secret she had been indulging in night after night since early childhood. He grinned maliciously and filthily when she shuddered and twitched in orgasm, and his comments were obscene, filthy and humiliating. She froze as he adjusted her and penetrated her. She winced as he brutally deflowered her and tore her hymen. He fucked her, groaning and moaning, grunting filthy words that would have offended even a whore, and continued to fuck her without stopping. He reared up and squirted inside, jet after jet. "There, you're my wife now, you're all mine!"

Lis endured it with quiet dignity. He came night after night for four years, masturbating her every time with a shabby grin to orgasm and then fucking her hard. He loved her tender, virginal body and her shy look. She got pregnant at 18 and he hated the way her belly bulged. She had never spoken a word to her father, but when he demanded that she abort the child, she simply said "No!" Even the old drunk realized that was the last word on the matter.

The somewhat simple‐minded mother had no idea that her husband was fucking her daughter night after night and wondered who the father might be. Lis remained stubbornly silent, her mother was just a chatterbox who liked to dress fashionably. Only when the mother wanted to know whether she could marry the child's father did she block the question. "He's already married, no chance!" Her mother left her alone. But she loved Lis in her superficial way and got her the two best midwives in the area. The labor before birth tormented Lis for three hours, then she gave birth in a quarter of an hour. It was an easy birth, said the younger midwife. The older one took a close look at Lis' clitoris, squeezed it and finally said to the younger one, that the mother had probably been masturbating since she was very young, that's why! Now Lis woke up from her exhaustion, "what is it!?" A perfectly healthy baby boy and Lis took the freshly swaddled baby to her breast. "His name is Jean‐Pierre," she said to her mother.

Lis and her mother were busy with Jean‐Pierre all year round. The father was not particularly interested in his grandson, he was much more preoccupied with the young, pretty Negro girls. Since they were his slaves, he could do whatever he wanted with them. He wanted to, of course. He brought them into the marriage bed, but his much too old wife would not be driven away. She sat sulking in bed while he deflowered and fucked the 13 and 14‐year‐old pretty Negro girls next to her. The house was a mess and they shouted at each other almost every night. Lis didn't understand a word, as they were shouting at each other in German, as they were both from Germany.

The shouting got worse every day and one evening he threw his wife, his daughter and her one‐year‐old child out of the house. He gave them half an hour to pack their things and leave. This was the second time Lis had spoken to her father. "He's your son, Fritz. Do you really want to throw him out of your house?" But Friedrich Korb had already gone too far. He turned his back on her and left without a greeting.

Lis, the mother and the little boy set off. They had to manage their money, the mother was not used to having only three dresses, but Lis had taken the lead and spent the money very carefully. They wandered from town to town along the American west coast northwards for two years. Often and often Lis had to pay with her body and let herself be fucked by hundreds of men without ever feeling any pleasure. She had heard that ships full of women and children sailed from the city of Vancouver to China. There was a great shortage of women in China and the Chinese were keen on white women. Lis got hold of cheap tickets and they took the new railroad for the rest of the way to the small port city of Vancouver.

They were lucky. They rented a cheap apartment with two rooms and Lis walked tirelessly to the harbor. Well, there were actually very few ships going to China. One of the captains squeezed out of the corner of his mouth that she had to contact an agent in the port, it was the only way to get a passage. She found an agent, as there were only two. The first refused, he didn't ship women to the Chinks. They were true filthy barbarians and she was far too old for the Chinese at the age of 20! The second agent was obliging, there were not many passages to China, two per year only. But he wanted to do what he could. Lis let him take her details, she was 21, her mother was 39 (she was fibbing here, because her mother was 42, almost 43) and her son was 3. He took everything down at a leisurely pace, as he had plenty of time and no customers. He listened to her whole life story, agreed with her about how ruthless her father was. He listened to her when she mentioned that she hadn't had a period since giving birth, but the midwife had assured her that if she took up a regular married life, it would come back. But she had only fucked some strangers very rarely in the years of moving around, only when she absolutely had to. Lis blushed, she didn't want to bore him with woman things. At some point he calculated the costs for her. Lis turned pale. She didn't have that much.

Of course, the clever lad had found out while chatting how little money she had. It wasn't enough for the passage to China, of course, but he didn't tell her that. He calculated back and forth to impress Lis. Of course, if he could remove his agency fee, her money would be enough for the passage. It was all a lie, but he didn't want to miss out that the pretty girl. But the agency fee, the fine fellow moaned, the agency fee! What good would it do him if he gave in to his soft heart and waived the fee? What would he gain, what!? He gave Lis a long time, and waited until she made the proposal. He didn't have to wait long. She could fuck him, Lis whispered with a bright red face, maybe! He continued to pretend for a while, the fine fellow, and they came to an agreement. She would let him fuck her twice a week, he agreed. For once.

He laid Lis' upper body on the tabletop, lifted her skirt and penetrated her from behind. He didn't have a big cock, Lis put her face on the tabletop and closed her eyes. He fucked her for quite a long time, it wasn't exciting for her at all, but she was doing it for a good cause. So she came to him twice a week, he told her about the depressing situation at the market and then she let herself be fucked indifferently.

Our fine agent not only brokered ship passages, no, he traded in everything, fruit and vegetables, shiploads of fish, land and houses. And women. Of course. Women were in short supply here in the north and you could make a tidy profit. The Norwegian Ragnar, for example, was a successful trapper and fur hunter. He had sent for his son Erik and his wife Gundi from Norway, they should have arrived long ago.

But the Goddesses of Fate refused to be messed with, they had other plans for Gundi and Rik and now the little humans took fate into their own hands and traveled to America! The Goddesses of Fate were really angry. Gundi fell ill on the passage, Rik dragged her sick mother on the train from New York to Chicago, from where they traveled with a windy, talkative Spaniard on a horse‐drawn cart to the other train line that led to Vancouver. But Gundi died after just one week and the Goddesses of Fate spat into their hands with a grin, the thread had to be spun finely.

The Spaniard tried to dig a grave with Rik, but the ground was frozen rock hard and the shovel broke in pieces. Rik sat down by the campfire and thought. The Spaniard jumped up and down, burying such a beautiful young woman while she was still warm! He undressed the dead Gundi and fucked her. Yes, he fucked her, they had been traveling for a week and her body was still warm! He fucked Gundi a second time and after a while a third time. Aaah, that felt good! He sat down by the campfire with Rik. Rik had finished thinking and stood up. He grabbed the Spaniard by the throat and smashed his skull in with a single fistpunch. He simply left the Spaniard lying there for the wolves. He covered Gundi with many stones and stuck a T‐shaped branch on top, a sign for Thor, her favorite God. Then he drove the horse‐drawn cart to the train station, posted a telegram to Ragnar and boarded the train. He was already five weeks late and would be in Vancouver in about 6 or 7 days.

In the meantime, the clever agent had set Lis and Ragnar up, and of course Ragnar wanted to buy the pretty thing for Rik, as he would have Gundi. Ragnar didn't speak English well and Lis didn't speak Norwegian. The agent made it clear to Lis that the prices for the China passage had risen astronomically. It would be wiser to go with Ragnar, he was a rich man, he had four bags of gold pieces on his belt and he wanted to marry Lis. Lis looked at Ragnar carefully. He was a muscular giant, the 40‐year‐old actually looked quite handsome in his bearskin. Ragnar had just received the telegram from Rik about the delayed landing in New York, Gundi was ill, they were taking the train to Chicago. Ragnar left Lis in the dark about getting married, but he wanted to go with her and wait for his son, he didn't mention Gundi. The sly agent took the 5 gold pieces for the matchmaking and Ragnar followed Lis.

So he couldn't take the three‐year‐old into the wilderness of Canada, that would be murder, Ragnar said. The little one had to stay there, together with the old woman, he said. He could only take Lis with him for the time being; she should have a look at his beautiful, large cabin in the woods and then decide whether to bring the two of them along a year later. Then they would take care of the marriage at the same time. Ragnar didn't lie to her, Rik would certainly be happy to take her. Lis cried bitterly, leaving the little one with his mother for a year was very hard. But she had listened carefully to Ragnar, the wilderness was no walk in the park, but he earned a lot from the furs and pelts. He showed her all the gold he had earned in half a year and had already spent a handful. Lis had not fallen on her head, with so much money they could all live like princes. She knew what she was letting herself in for.

She wanted to spend the last days and weeks with Jean‐Pierre, she wanted to sleep with the little one in the small bed, Ragnar in the big bed. He was not displeased, the old woman was his age and still looked quite good, and he would soon find out if she was good to fuck too. Lis clutched her son and couldn't fall asleep, Ragnar noisily fucked her mother, who groaned and moaned with lust. The poor woman hadn't fucked at all in the last few years, because when it was necessary, Lis always had to hold out her pussy. Her mother had masturbated very often during this time of abstinence, she had pressed her body against Lis and hugged her fiercely when she orgasmed. Lis didn't think it was improper, because her poor mother missed the physical contact and the sex much more than she did.

At dawn, Ragnar uncovered her mother, lifted one of her legs high and penetrated her from behind with his morning wood. Lis got all fuzzy watching him and rubbed her clit secretly. The mother moaned and groaned in orgasm and Ragnar only squirted after her second orgasm, then he went to piss and the mother fixed breakfast. Her mother was in a better mood than she had been for years. She whispered in Lis's ear that she had finally had another wet night after three dry years! If Lis didn't want to marry him, she would take the strong Viking straight away! They had to wait 6 weeks until Rik finally arrived. Ragnar fucked her mother vigorously and enthusiastically every night and every morning. She was really good to fuck, he said almost daily at dinner with a friendly smile and the mother blushed like a young girl.

Then came Rik. He was a man of two Meters like his father, muscular and a handsome giant. He told Ragnar everything and Lis, the mother and Jean‐Pierre listened to the strange sounds. The mother seemed to understand a few words and translated them for Lis. Rik firmly refused to take Lis as his wife. He stubbornly maintained that his father had to have the wife first, as Gundi was no more. That was his last word, he made it clear. Ragnar agreed at last, that was fair. When Rik told them about the Spaniard, his mother was left breathless, it was outrageous. Both, that the guy was fucking the dead woman and that Rik had smashed his head. But Ragnar nodded, he'd done a good job, the guy deserved it. Lis gulped at how easily and naturally the Norwegians talked about it. Rik slept on the floor next to her mother's bed, fucking her mother after his father both at night and in the morning. The mother was floating on air, never before had she been fucked four times a day by the strong man and his equally strong son, it was pure joy! They stayed another 10 days and organized everything for the trip. Ragnar had bought a thick fur coat for Lis and Rik had bought a bearkiller, a long, large‐caliber rifle that could fire five shots in succession from a magazine, a lever‐action rifle. If you hadn't finished off a bear with five bullets, you had to run like the devil was behind you, Ragnar said to Lis with a smile.

On the last morning, the Norwegians fucked her mother for the last time in a row and they said goodbye. Lis had to literally tear herself away from the little one, then she ran after the men. They went three days north by ship with two pack mules and Lis realized gratefully how well the fur coat warmed her. Then they walked inland to the north‐east. Three days later they arrived at a hut and Ragnar looked anxiously at the sky. "A blizzard, maybe tonight or tomorrow!"

Rik ran to the hut, but no one was there. He pushed open the door and began to unload the donkeys. Ragnar called him loudly. Rik and Lis ran to him. He had found the owner of the hut. The man — probably a man, but one could only guess — so the man lay behind the hut. He had been murdered. The knife was deep in his back, or what the wolves and foxes had left of him. His throat had been slit, Ragnar said, after he had examined the man expertly. Ragnar pulled out the knife, then the men took the body a short distance away and covered it with stones.

Rik cleaned the knife with a rag; it was an excellent hunting knife, razorsharp with a beautifully gilded and decorated hand guard. "The French back home in Louisiana have ones like this," Lis said. Rik said it was too good to throw away. Ragnar nodded, he would make a sheath out of rabbit fur. Lis was very surprised, "Rabbits, here!?" Rik laughed. Ragnar was the only one who caught hares with his bare hand! Ragnar said they should check the freezer in the floor, he was going hare hunting, there would be roast hare for dinner.

Lis followed Rik into the house, they found the hole in the floor. Rik looked inside, there was a whole load of venison legs stored there. He said she must lean in the hole, he would hold her by the legs and she could count the pieces. So she did, hanging upside down and counting. 32. Her skirt tumbled with the force of gravity and she felt Rik slide his cock along her bare thighs. She sighed, it had been nine weeks since she had let the agent fuck her. She softened her pussy, of course she wanted to be fucked. Rik penetrated infinitely slowly and considerately. What a massive cock! He immediately pulled it out again, only the first jet had squirted in. He pushed his cock into her ass crease and fucked quickly, squirting it all into her ass crease. He stopped and she looked backwards. He rubbed his cock with his paw and squirted on the inside wall of the cooling hole. He shook his head, "Lis is for Ragnar, remember!" She couldn't make sense of it, but she nodded and smiled kindly at him, "I won't tell Ragnar, okay?" Rik nodded and went outside, bringing in an armful of logs. "Because of the Blizzard," he said, bringing all the logs into the living area. She cleaned up the cooking area and the food supplies, clearing away the small, unusable sleeping area of the unfortunate previous owner so Rik could stack the logs there. She found two large furs stitched together and was about to throw them in the corner when Rik told her to put them in front of the fireplace as they would sleep there. A blizzard could last a day or a week. The light drifting snow had turned into a heavy snowfall. Rik climbed into the cooling hole, he brought out 8 small barrels of brandy and two empty kegs. "For pee and poo," he said, looking for two more lids. He leaned a shovel next to the door, went to the back to check on the pack mules, moved the barrel of rainwater and the well‐filled free trough in front of the animals. He found some slats and fastened them so that the donkeys were somewhat protected. He looked up at the sky. "Ragnar should be here soon," he said to Lis, "the blizzard is coming in an hour!" Lis noticed his unease, she said nothing. A hysterical woman was the last thing he needed right now. She had watched them build fires over the last few days and was making a fire in the fireplace. Rik had fetched another empty barrel and filled it with water in the river. "For coffee or washing," was his comment. The hut was now full to bursting, they had at least two months' worth of supplies. Ragnar appeared in the thick snowfall, holding three rabbits by their ears and grinning with satisfaction. He tossed the rabbits to Rik, then took off his heavy robe. "The blizzard's coming in ten minutes," he said, "you can't see the end of the clouds, so it'll last longer than a day."

They had eaten the three rabbits, the men had drunk a cup of brandy, Lis had only sipped, for she never wanted to become a drinker like her father, and they had gone to sleep. She had spread out one of the large furs in front of the fireplace and they lay down naked and covered themselves with the second fur. The fire was burning, but it wasn't really warm, the storm was raging outside. Lis lay between them and they moved close together to keep each other warm.

Ragnar was about to fuck and Lis nodded, okay then! He laid her on her side with her back and ass facing him. She shivered pleasantly as his fingers stroked her in all the right places. He lifted one of her legs, spread her ass cheeks wide and penetrated her pussy very carefully and considerately. "Is that okay?" he mumbled and she nodded. "It's really fine!" she breathed. His cock was big, but she still had the feeling of Rik's cock inside her pussy, and Rik's was bigger, thicker. Ragnar fucked slowly and with obvious pleasure and stopped. He grabbed her hand and placed it on her pussy. "You can rub yourself if you like it!" he murmured and she nodded again. Rik took her head and placed her face on his chest. Now she lay comfortably warm between and on top of the two men, she gently stroked her clit and Ragnar continued to fuck her in his own way. It wasn't long before she trembled in orgasm and her lips pinched Rik's nipple. She exhaled and now Ragnar squirted, spurting jet after jet. His cock was still inside her when she heard him breathe deeply and fall asleep.

She noticed that Rik was rubbing his cock. Her hand felt down. He stopped and his other hand placed hers on top of his rubbing hand. He continued rubbing, with her hand on the back of his hand. He masturbated for quite a long time, then he squirted on his stomach and a few jets splashed on her face. She wiped it off and remained lying with her face on his chest. Gradually, they fell asleep.

The blizzard raged around the hut, sometimes you could hear a donkey braying. They stayed on the furs on the ground for most of the day. Rik shimmied down and brought up a leg of venison. It was slowly roasted and Ragnar worked on a hare skin. Lis was amazed at the skill with which he turned it into a sheath for the French hunting knife. There seemed to be no discussion about Rik keeping the beautiful hunting knife. Ragnar and he took turns wrapping a bearskin around their naked bodies and walked once around the cabin. They checked whether the storm had caused any damage and stopped for a moment to talk to the donkeys. They were full of panic, the poor creatures. After some minutes, the tour was over and they warmed themselves by the fire. They ate a whole hind leg of a venison every day, chewed the indestructible dried bread and drank brandy. Lis made a coffee, she didn't want the brandy.

The blizzard didn't let up for a moment. By now the snow was piled up as high as a man around the hut, and while one of them did the patrol around the hut, the other shoveled away enough snow in front of the door and the front windows so that they weren't completely snowed in. Lis was glad that the Northmen knew exactly how to deal with the blizzard.

The blizzard lasted 16 days. Ragnar fucked her every night and every morning. When Rik masturbated at night, she put her hand on his and they stroked his cock together. It was the fourth or fifth night. Rik stopped masturbating and grabbed Lis, lifted her up and made her sit on top of him.

"Do you want to fuck me?" she asked and he nodded.

"And Ragnar?" she asked, not knowing if the two men had an agreement.

"I'm sure it's all right," he whispered, "when Ragnar was out earlier, I fucked Gundi instead of him, and Gundi was his wife and my mother." Lis thought for a moment, then said "Okay, you can fuck me!" Lis grabbed his cock and inserted it into her pussy. What a great cock! She knelt to the left and right of Rik, he thrust from below, powerful and strong. It made her hot, she gasped and panted. She clawed her fingers into the fur and her finger twitched, wanting to rub the clit. But it wasn't necessary, she sank onto his chest, trembling in orgasm. She remained lying on top of him, exhausted, and he continued to fuck her for a very long time, until he squirted powerfully. She kissed him on the lips and taught him to kiss with his tongue in the French Louisianan way. Ragnar refused french kissing, he had never done it.

Lis asked Rik what it was like with Gundi. Rik had always slept with his parents, he watched their fucking very closely. When the child became a boy, Gundi waited until Ragnar had fallen asleep and then Rik was allowed to fuck her. He learned quickly and practiced with her every night. When girlfriends came to visit, Rik was allowed to sleep with the guest and he fucked them all until they were exhausted. He also lay with the visiting couples. Of course, he had to wait until the visitors had finished fucking and the man had fallen asleep, then he went down on the woman. Very few of them were ready to fuck straight away, Rik had to heat up their little knobs first. Most of them let him do it until she had an orgasm and were so relaxed and tired afterwards that they didn't resist the fucking. Gundi was very pleased with her son, he got to know so many girls and women and learned to respond to the peculiarities of each one. Lis listened attentively, because this really was a different world Rik was talking about.

Day after day, they kept to the routine of roasting a leg of venison over the fire. They ate with the piece of meat in one hand and a sharp knife in the other, with which they cut small pieces and put them in their mouths. In the evening, Ragnar fucked her first and she rubbed her clitoris. At night she climbed on top of Rik and let him fuck her from below. In the morning she had to take care of Ragnar's morning wood before getting up. It was really wonderful to be fucked from behind, one leg high in the air, while half asleep.

On the 11th day, both donkeys were frozen to death. Ragnar and Rik debated in Norwegian until Lis asked to speak English. They were pretty screwed, because without the donkeys they would have to walk the 10 days there and 10 days back at least twice, fully packed. It was exasperating. Lis thought they would have to wait for the blizzard to end and then see. She didn't say so, but that's exactly what happened. The blizzard was gone from one minute to the next, the sun blazed down and after three days all the snow was gone.

Ragnar and Rik went exploring together and separately for a week, Lis stayed in the cabin and locked the door when wolves approached. They lurked for an hour a hundred meters outside the hut and disappeared silently. The men had found paper and pencil in the hut and drew maps of the area, marking special places. By the third day, they were finished and agreed on the details. Lis sat down at the small table and made two copies so that everyone had a map. They decided to stay here for the winter, there was a lot of game around. They would stay here for the winter and perhaps go to Ragnar's hut in the spring. The men took turns taking Lis with them on their hunting trips, she learned very quickly and was very skilled. She learned to gut animals and cut out the best pieces. The hide of some of the animals was valuable and they took it with them.

Autumn had come and Lis set off with Ragnar. It was bear country, he said, but you didn't go bear hunting without donkeys or packhorses because of the weight. He set up their camp for the night and made a campfire. He heard something and they held their breath. Ragnar put the bearslayer rifle in her hand, telling her to stay close to the fire and only fire the gun in self‐defense. He holstered his revolver, took his cartridge pouch and hunting knife and disappeared silently. Lis waited beside the campfire, keeping her eyes and ears open. She didn't know how much time had passed when the crack of a twig snapped her out of her doze. She held her breath and listened. Something rustled in the bushes, she saw a bear's fur and fired the bearslayer right at the bear's pelt. There was a loud scream and Ragnar staggered towards the campfire and fell lengthways. Lis screamed and turned the heavy man over. She had hit him in the chest. She pressed a hand to his chest and the bleeding stopped. He said with an effort, "Three shots, Rik..." and Ragnar was dead. She felt his neck, no pulse. She stared weeping into his eyes, which looked far into the future. She fired three shots in succession and reloaded the rifle. She heard three shots from a distance, Rik had heard hers. She now fired a shot every 10 minutes to let him know where she was. He responded with a shot. She only fired every half hours, his shot sounded closer. Two hours later, he emerged, taking the morning sun with him.

He immediately saw what had happened. He rekindled the fire and sat her there, she was completely cold and frozen through. He put Ragnar's bearskin around her shoulders and made her take a few sips of brandy from Ragnar's drinking flask. He forced her to drink to make her warmer. She told him in a monotone voice what had happened. He said that the only way to approach a campfire was to break a twig and rustle. She stared at him in bewilderment, she had heard it, but she did not know this custom. She had seen the bears fur and had shot immediately in panic. Rik nodded. "You were in a bear's territory, Ragnar had told you to shoot in self‐defense. You saw a bear and shot immediately. You are not to blame!" For Rik, the matter was settled, he made her a strong coffee and poured brandy into it. He looked for stones in the area and covered Ragnar with them. He formed a large T from two twigs and stuck it into the gravestones. Ragnar also worshipped Thor, the God of Thunder. Lis stood next to him as Rik raised both hands to the sky and sang a long song in his language. They set off and arrived at their hut before sunset.

Lis sat in front of the fireplace for five days, not eating, drinking or sleeping, but staring silently into the flames. Rik put a blanket around her shoulders and didn't bother her, she wouldn't answer anyway.

On the sixth day, everything was back to normal. Lis had made coffee and improved them both with a shot of brandy. They talked and talked again about the accident with Ragnar. Rik said again that it wasn't her fault. She asked him if he could forgive her for shooting his father by mistake. She was not to blame, he repeated, she was innocent. Then they discussed the new situation. He didn't know exactly where Ragnar's hut was, he only knew that it was still ten days away. There was little point in setting off without further information. The best thing to do was to spend the winter in this cabin and return to Vancouver next year. Lis was homesick for little Jean‐Pierre, but she was looking forward to seeing him again next year.

Lis went up to Ragnar's grave about once a month, usually accompanied by Rik, to arrange the stones and lay down some flowers. It did her good to talk silently to Ragnar or his God Thor for a while. Rik had told her all about Thor and the family of Gods and she soon found her bearings. She could even smile again, "Your world of Gods is a lot like King Arthur's court!" She had often read the legend in her youth and could now tell Rik about it. Just like in Rik's world of the Gods, people fucked pretty wildly in Arthur's court. Lis always went hunting or trapping with Rik. She learned very quickly which animals were more suitable for eating and which were hunted for their fur.

They lay in each other's arms every night, and Lis really liked the way Rik fucked her, as well as the still‐sleepy fucking with his morning wood. She often thought to herself how lucky she was, because Rik was by far the best man she had ever fucked. On the long, cold winter nights, they often lay snuggled together under the fur and told each other about their previous sexual adventures. That was usually the best way to get in the mood before fucking. Lis listened with fascination to the naturalness with which the Nordic women dealt with fucking. The customs and ideas of the continent were also spreading in the north. They tried to instill the concept of marital fidelity and sexual possession in people. Gradually, people only fucked others in secret. This helped the population grow.

Rik now usually went hunting alone, in winter it was particularly important to be invisible. Lis usually stayed at home, the snow was not her thing. But spring came and now she also went hunting alone, especially for red deer. She was able to trigger the good parts of the deer and return home with a full rucksack.

And now, completely unexpectedly and as if out of nowhere, the huge tree came crashing down and buried her under it.

She kept waking up from her faint. She turned her head to the side and saw him immediately. It was a large, beautiful wolf standing on a small hill 30 meters away. Lis was surprised that he was alone. It was the first wolf she'd seen up close; until now she'd only seen packs from a distance. The wolves came within 200 or 300 meters of the hut, but they were obviously not interested in humans. Now she looked at the wolf. It was quite large and had light‐colored fur with gray and yellowish patches. It had striking black paws.

The wolf approached cautiously as she moved. He came closer very slowly and over‐cautiously. They stared at each other. Lis, to her astonishment, was not afraid, not scared at all. He lay down 10 meters away, put his head, his snout on his front legs and stared at her unblinkingly.

He squirted his ears as Lis began to speak to him. She didn't know why she was doing it herself, was it the hours of desperate loneliness or the memory of the dogs in the plantation? She knew how to talk to dogs, but to a wolf? She did it quite simply. She put all her warmth and kindness into her voice. The wolf was obviously listening, he remained crouched on the ground, but he crept closer and closer. He came within 5 meters. It was a very strange encounter, the wolf, ready to bolt at any moment and curious as to why she wasn't moving.

She took a deep breath as he stood up very slowly and came closer. She closed her eyes as he sniffed her face. She could feel his hot breath, he sniffed her from top to bottom. Blood had trickled down her thighs and pussy from her broken arm. He gently licked at the blood, but she didn't protest. He licked the blood from her thighs and she giggled softly as he licked her pussy clean with his rough tongue. She told him that if she got free, he could lick her pussy as much as he wanted. He jumped over the tree and licked the blood from her bruised leg. Did he understand that she was trapped? Did he understand that she desperately needed help? She spoke urgently to him, he came back and licked her face a few times. He seemed to consider, then lay down right in front of her face, just inches away. Lis was grateful that he was so close and fell asleep.

She woke up when he licked her face again. She could feel how exhausted she was, how close to death she was. She hadn't been able to move her healthy arm for hours, but she could feel the cold eating away at her arm. The wolf suddenly looked up, he had seen or heard something. But it was nothing that would have worried him. He stared into his friend's eyes, perhaps knowing that she was dying. Though he kept licking her face, she slept away, she caught sight of Ragnar's outline in the treetops and ran towards him, flying lightly like a ballet dancer towards the dear man she had caused so much pain to.

The wolf stood up and paced back and forth restlessly. No, he wasn't restless, he was looking for Lis' scent. He followed his nose, running faster and faster through the night forest, following the paths that only humans usually followed, running and running. He reached the hut at dawn. He knew immediately that she had left here. He smelled another human and lay in wait 50 meters from the hut.

Rik had been waiting for Lis, listening to see if he heard the bang of the bearslayer, or three as a call for help. Nothing. For three days and two nights he never slept for more than 5 minutes, he walked all the trails he knew for three days and two nights. He was at Ragnar's grave in the mornings and afternoons, he just muttered a short spell for his father and ran off again. On the third night, he ate quickly in the hut, standing up. He had heard something, took the small rifle and quietly stepped out of the hut. He spotted the wolf immediately. It was very unusual for the wolves to come so close to the hut. It was also very unusual that this wolf was alone. And quite unusual was the way the wolf was lying there. Stretched out on its belly, head and snout on its forelegs, the wolf was looking straight at him. Rik put the rifle on, he only had one shot, and it had to be right, because he had to go into the hut to reload.

Rik aimed accurately. The bullet would hit right between the wolf's eyes, devastatingly so. He couldn't take his eyes off the wolf, there was something magical about him. He lowered the rifle. The wolf stood up. It raised its head to the sky and sang. Rik had only ever heard wolves howl, an eerie, terrifying howl. He had heard a few times that wolves could sing, but had dismissed it. When the trappers had had booze enough, they even told of mermaids in the St. Lawrence River. He listened, it wasn't howling, it was singing. The wolf sang one verse after another. The last note faded, the wolf turned to the forest, took a few quick steps and stopped, looking back at Rik. He repeated it again, looking back at Rik.

Rik broke free from his stupor. He didn't care if people would think he was crazy, but the wolf's message was clear. Follow me! Rik ran into the hut, poured water on the fire, pulled the rucksack off the hook, slung the rifle on and ran towards the wolf. The wolf ran ahead quickly and stopped. Rik ran after him, alternating between galloping and trotting like the rangers to conserve his strength. The wolf let him get within 100 meters and then ran on. Rik knew the area, Lis had been here often. Of course, he had already run the route three times without finding her. They ran for a good two hours, it was still Lis' territory, he had been here three times before! He had serious doubts, where was the wolf leading him? To his pack, to some fragrant carrion or into an abyss!?

The wolf had stopped and let Rik get within 25 meters. He ran and slid down a slope. Here they left the path, heading cross‐country. At the foot of the slope, he picked up his rifle and hunting knife, ready for surprises. The wolf stopped after 200 meters and lay down on the ground. He let Rik get within 5 meters. Rik had never been so close to a wolf before, he paid attention to the wolf and looked around. He could see nothing of interest. The wolf stood up leisurely and sang again for a few seconds. He looked to Rik as if to say, "What are you waiting for, human?" Rik strained his eyes, seeing nothing. Nothing at all.

The wolf was certainly smarter than he was. He shook his fur and walked very slowly through the bushes, down another small slope. Rik stayed by his side and could have petted him, he was so close. The wolf stopped and looked up at him. "Yeah, you still don't see it, human?" he seemed to say. The wolf walked around a fallen log and lay down on the ground. Rik stepped up beside his guide and saw her immediately. The wolf had laid down in front of Lis' face, licking her face and singing a short verse. Rik went to his knees, realizing at first glance that she was dead, one leg pinned under the tree trunk. He touched her cheeks, her neck, her face. She had been dead for hours. Rik sat down beside her in despair. He mourned her, she was a good partner, a good hunting companion and a wonderful woman who had given him many sweet hours. They had lived together like man and wife for more than half a year; the 22‐year‐old had never been with a woman for so long.

He didn't let the immense loneliness overwhelm him. "We have to give her a proper burial, big guy," he said to the wolf. He didn't want to bend the bearslayer's barrel, so he felled a tree a good arm‐thick with his hunting knife and cut it to size. This served as a lever and after a few attempts he was able to move the tree trunk enough to free Lis' leg. He laid her in the clearing and piled boulders and stones over her for hours. Even a bear couldn't get to her!

He didn't know who Lis's deity was, so he rammed three straight branches into the stones, the sign of Freya, the Goddess of Love. He raised both hands to the sky and sang her life, the rape by her own father, the humiliating fucking on the odyssey to Vancouver, the humiliation and deceitful fucking with the agent, her beautiful time with Ragnar and him here in the wilderness. He sang with all his might that she was not to blame for Ragnar's death and that the gods knew the truth about it. He sang that he would see to it that her mother and the little one were well cared for. He sang that this was the honorable life of Elizabeth of Louisiana and that heaven would record it as a message in the book of honorable women. He sang the praises of Freya last, and sank on his knees at the end. He looked around, but the wolf was no longer there.

He walked back to the cottage deep in thought, pondering how Lis had come across the wolf, how lamblike the wolf had been with Lis, and how he should assess the strange adventure with the wolf. He definitely knew it hadn't been a dream. Maybe nobody would beleive him, that a wolf had led him to his dead wife.

Rik stayed in the hut well into the summer, carrying a man‐sized pack full of furs and pelts that earned him four sacks of gold. He stayed eight months over the winter with Lis' mother and Jean—Pierre, who no longer thought of Lis often, as he was still far too young. The mother mourned the loss of her only child honestly, but enjoyed fucking the loin‐strong Northman night after night. Rik often rode to a neighboring Indian reservation because he had made friends with the chief. There he fell in love with a young, quiet Indian woman who also loved him very much and moved into his hut in the wilderness with him.

Ragnar and Lis stood on a cloud and looked at their children. Ragnar was pleased that Rik had found a good wife, was very successful at hunting and selling furs. He would soon give up the strenuous hunt and buy a big house in Vancouver with his Indian wife and 3 children and make a nice fortune in the fur trade. He would sit around the campfire every other week smoking a pipe with the chief, who became his best friend.

Lis saw that the mother took really good care of Jean‐Pierre and sent him to good schools. She taught him English, French and German. She would let him fuck her every day from 12 until the end of her life, even though she had married a rich widower, a merchant in Vancouver. When he fell asleep, she went into Jean‐Pierre's bedroom and lay down with him. At first she only gave him handjobs and gradually taught him how to fuck. He learned quite quickly and wanted to fuck her as often as they could find a free minute. Although he fucked a lot of young girls during his school years because he was a magnet for the girls, he fucked his grandmother every day until he was 28. She died in the middle of her orgasm, Jean‐Pierre was completely shocked and it took nearly a year to recover from the loss of his mother. He had always thought of her as his mother, even though she was his grandmother.

Jean‐Pierre also became a merchant and one of the richest men in the area. Although he was happy with that himself, it made Lis sad that he fucked his grandmother every day until the end, which was certainly not right. He would not marry a young woman until he was 30 and have many children. Jean‐Pierre discovered his preference for very young girls and his wife discovered her lesbian tendencies. They indulged each other's preferences and now often had a young girl in their marriage bed. He deflowered and fucked the girl, who was then taken care of by his lesbian wife. Their married life became more and more intense. They didn't care about the gossip, they led a fruitful family life and sent the children to school. That was the most important thing parents could give their children, Jean‐Pierre told his children.

He would build and successfully manage 4 hotels after the two large department store. At the beginning of the Klondike gold rush he built two more large, cheaper lodgings for the gold diggers passing through and ran 16 exchange shops to buy up the gold. When he died at the end of the century, he left a rich company to his children. All in all, Jean‐Pierre had had a good and honest life, which pleased Lis immensely. Lis also saw her father foolishly drink away part of his estate and was stabbed to death by a cardsharp at a card game long before he could ruin the whole plantation.

On some winter nights, when old Rik sat on his terrace, drinking a brandy and smoking a pipe, he sometimes looked up at the beautiful Northern Lights. They were a greeting from Gundi and Lis, both of whom he could never and would never forget.

Then he untied his scarf and waved with it back at them.

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