Forthrightly, I told her my intentions. 'I'm going to rape you,' I said.
'No!' she protested.
'Yes!' I insisted.
'Why?' she interrogated.
'So it won't fall off!' I indicated.
'You mean it's likely to-'
'Yes!'
'But then suppose it happens while you're-'
'That's a chance we'll have to take.'
'Surely you're exaggerating,' Olga pleaded.
'I am not. Remember the brass monkey.'
'What brass monkey?'
'The one that froze its whatzis off.'
'I don't care about any brass monkey. I'm not going to let you. Why, if anybody found out, I might be drummed out of S.M.U.T.'
'S.M.U.T. will understand.' I tried to reassure her. 'It's necessary to stay alive.'
'I'd rather die!' She crossed her arms dramatically over her breasts.
'I wouldn't. And stop hogging the bearskins.' I cuddled closer to her again. 'It's no use your protesting,' I told her. 'I'm going to rape you.'
Over us the blizzard raged. The wind screamed its arctic wrath endlessly. The biting cold crawled under the bearskins and beneath our own skins – icy, probing fingers tipped with death. And yet, in my arms, this voluptuous French girl was struggling furiously against accepting the sex which might well be the difference between life and death to us.
She fought me every frozen inch of the way. Her nails raked my cheeks and dug into my neck. Her teeth clamped down on my arm, and I had to slap her to make her let go. Her knee connected with my crotch, and I held her pinned for a moment while I recovered from the pain.
As I was getting over it, I thought to myself that perhaps I really was being too abrupt, not tender enough. I decided to woo her more gently. So I bent and kissed her on the lips. The savage clamp of her teeth almost ripped my tongue from its roots. Her hand, flailing out behind me, fastened on the flashlight, and she cracked it against the side of my skull. At the same moment her other hand tangled in the beard I'd grown and tugged mightily.
I retreated for another breather. 'It's easy to see you don't know anything about rape,' I gasped. 'Don't you know the victim is presumed always to have encouraged the attacker?'
'Men!' She spat the word out as if it was the filthiest of curses. 'I'll bet some man thought that one up. Men only want one thing from a girl. Even when we're about to freeze to death, the only thing on your mind is sex.'
'If you know another way to stay alive, then tell me.'
She merely snorted with contempt and fell silent.
The howl of the wind grew louder. The cold it brought with it renewed my determination. I grabbed Olga again.
We wrestled. I wedged my knee against her tight-clenched thighs and bore down hard, slowly prying them apart. No gentleman resting on his elbows was I. My weight was necessary to keep her pinned, and my chest crushed those soft, heaving, pointed breasts beneath me. She fought hard, but the fight itself was a kind of perverse love-making. The way she thrashed around and pounded her fists against, my body was exciting. Even the tears of frustration which sprang to her eyes with the realization that she wasn't strong enough to hold me off were an added goad to my passion.
She kept struggling even after the rape was technically a
Finally she cried out and lost control altogether. Her body took over, and she wasn't fighting me then. Her eyes closed, and she gave herself up to one tremor of release after another. She was thrusting against me now, digging her nails into my buttocks to hold me fast, no longer trying to push me away. Realizing this, I gave myself up to the sensation, and together we soared to the heights of passion.
When it was over, we clung together wearily for a moment. Then she pushed away, groping to regain her composure, seeking the proper tone of voice for a woman forcibly defiled, a woman raped against her will. But she was caught between wanting to come on this way and the vestiges of pleasure she was still feeling. The result was a tone that was shaky and words that equivocated.
'Well, at least,' Olga said, 'it didn't break off while you were -' She left it hanging.
So did I. I was satisfied – for the time being. We were alive, and the warm afterglow of love-making would keep up alive for a while.
But with the passing of another day, the feeling of satisfaction also passed. The cold gripped us again. And once again I raped Olga.
She didn't fight me quite as hard this time. And the next time she struggled even less strenuously. Soon she was putting up merely token resistance. She would have liked me to believe that this was because her strength was being sapped by our ordeal, but I suspected otherwise.
One night she woke me from a sound sleep and my suspicions were confirmed. 'Aren't you going to rape me?' she asked.
'I'm tired,' I told her. 'Later.'
'No. Now! I'm freezing!'
So I obliged. And when she started struggling as usual, I simply stopped and rolled away from her.
'What's the matter?' she panted.
'I'm too tired to fight with you.'
'Oh.' Olga thought a moment. 'All right, then I won't fight,' she decided.
The next morning the storm abated. The wind died down, and the snow flurried to a stop. For the first time in I don't know how long, we saw the sun again.
It gave our morale a boost. We were still dependent on Ungilak's return to save us, but our chances of freezing to death were lessened by the passing of the blizzard. We smiled encouragement at each other and speculated that Ungilak might reach us today, or surely tomorrow.
But it wasn't Ungilak who found us. It was mid-afternoon and we were dozing in the shadows of the shelter provided by the overturned sled when Olga's scream awoke me. She screamed only once, and I sat bolt upright with my pistol in my hand.
It was too late. There was a hatchet sticking out of Olga's naked breast. She was dead.
I snapped a shot at the figure standing over her. But I fired too fast, and I missed. I caught a glimpse of a face that was decidedly Chinese, and then he was gone.
I bolted after him, but he was too fast for me. His footsteps led to a narrow crevice running between two mountains of ice. It would have been foolhardy to try to follow him there. I'd have been a setup for an ambush.
He'd be back. I was sure of that. I guessed that it was really me he was after. He'd probably killed.Olga only because she'd seen him and screamed. Even now the Chinese might be cursing to himself over the chance that he might have killed Dr. Nyet herself.
So I settled back of the sled to wait for his return. I propped myself up on the package containing the jeweled phallus and concentrated on staying awake. I was alone now. Just me and the golden genitalia of a Nepalese god.
Death lurked in the ice mountains. Death would surely return. The only question was whether I might not freeze to death before the Chinese came back to kill me. If I did, that priceless phallus might make a worthy tombstone for the man from O.R.G.Y!
