His Frozen Heart (Kadrin and Demorica)

[Kadrin]

It's a blazing hot day in summer, and the sky is free of any protective clouds. There's no humidity, but the heat is nonetheless oppressive, and the farmers in their fields labour in misery under the burning sun. It's a bad day to be outside, and all signs show that the summer will only get hotter. The population of the small town is mostly human, but there are elves, nekomimi, and descendants of celestials among the population as well - it's only the celestial children who are working at their best today, while the nekomimi curl up in their houses and wish, for the first time in their lives, not to have as much fur.

One of the farmers, a big bluff man who's withstood the heat of the sun for many years now - as witnessed by his dark, cracking skin - looks up into the blue sky for any hope of relief, and wipes his forehead with the back of his hand... when he feels something soft and cold land in the palm of his hand.

Uncertain, worried, and - somewhere deep and denied - knowing what's coming, he looks into the palm of his hand.

There's a single snowflake, melting in the heat of his palm.

Clouds spiral into existence from single grey spots that appear in the sky, and soon there's a dark dome of cloud cover blotting out the heat and light of the sun. Within the space of a minute, the heat has plummeted. The sweat on the farmers' brow freezes before it can dissolve, leaving rimes of ice over foreheads and eyes. Strong men weep as they run for their houses, knowing what's coming as snow falls in flurries. The sudden shock of cold kills smaller creatures: birds fall from the sky, mice in the fields curl in on themselves, cold-blooded snakes die as their hearts stop. The wind howls in the voice of a tortured woman as snowdrifts build up in the field.

The Lady-Protector of the town walks out into the town square, pulling her cloak around herself. She doesn't want to see what she knows she is about to see, but she needs to meet him. It is the only way to keep her town protected.

And, from the heart of the snowstorm, walks the Prince of Frost.

In one hand, he carries his sword of ice. In the other, he holds the handle of a leash; the girl on the other end is barely moving, her eyes open and blank, her mouth open and drooling. She is still beautiful, long hair and full breasts, long legs guarding a sweet sex - but whatever she was is gone, and what's replaced it is something less.

"Another failure," the Prince of Frost says, and his voice is like ice cracking on a window pane. He drops the girl at the Lady-Protector's feet.

"The innocence and prosperity of your town is a draw to every evil thing out there," the Prince says, meeting the Lady-Protector's eyes with the frozen white intensity of his own. "A prince among demons rose from the earth, and when I froze his heart he was barely a half-mile away from you. I found a vampire seeking to enslave you all, and took her head after a week's battle. The mage Ignis came to burn you; I stilled the flame of his magic and the flame of his life. All this I do for you - to protect your people from the horror that waits and wants. And I do not ask much in return. A girl who can amuse me, who can bear me, who can survive me - more than simply another in a long string of disappointments. And you have given me this."

He shoves the girl with his foot; she barely catches herself before falling, lying on her side, as if she sees no reason to stand, or even to kneel.

"The bargain comes due again. One girl, for one year; one who has a noble and loving heart, one who can bear suffering, one who will be worth herself. At the end of the year, I will return, and if the girl you have given me is enough for me, then I shall never take another. ...Or, perhaps, I will not return. If this girl is insufficient, perhaps I will decide I am not profiting from our deal as I should. If you do not give me enough reason to stay, I will walk into the wastelands, and you will be left alone."

He clenches his fist on the last word, as if choking the life from the town himself.

"So bring her forth. Who is the offering for this year?"

 

[Demorica]

Silva was a young elf, barely of age for breeding, but to a human they would assume she was in her late teens to early twenties, perfect age for them. However she was a no body, a peasant, a beggar who danced for coin, but she would not lower herself so low as to do anything more than dance and sing, and that earned her enough to eat and get some rags for clothing, not that a dancer needed much clothing, people preferred to watch her pale milky skin which did not seem to be effected by the harsh sun at all, if anything it looked to be helping the young elf and make her much more active, but today she was not dancing or singing, she was attending to the children and helping bring water to the fields as well as others in the village who had passed out from heat exhaustion.

At the moment she walked with a large bucket of water to a small group of farmers who no doubt had heat stroke and using what energy she had taken from the sun she used it to heal and help them get back into perfect shape and sent them on their way with plenty of water. Although she wore rags she was beautiful, her silver hair flowing down to her mid back, and her body perfectly sculpted, a C cup bust, curvy hips and slender long legs. She heard whispers and hushed talk of the prince of frost entering the town. Quickly she had someone else take her place and went to see what was going on, her bright sky blue eyes looking around to see the lady protector speaking to the male, and the girl he had taken with him last time on the ground and seemed she was like the rest, an empty shell. Biting her lip she heard him ask for the next offering, but they had not agreed on a girl, no one wanted to give their daughters to this monster, and until she herself was not of age to give to him, and the lady had tried to protect her since she was one of the best healers and the most selfless person, thinking of others before herself, and caring for others despite her position in the village.

Seeing that the lady was having difficulty answering him Silva bit her lip softly and let out a sigh as she walked over to the lady gently touching her arm, only to have her turn and look at her, worry in her eyes as she looked at the young elven girl, but she really could not offer many else without having families torn apart and upset and fighting again about why their daughter had to go and not the neighbors.

She took a few steps toward the prince, frightened, no terrified was the proper word for it, she was trying not to shake like a leaf so soon as she bowed her head, her hair falling to caress her cheeks gently and then stood up straight again, her beautiful soft blue eyes looking at him for a moment before looking down to the ground, "My name is Silvia, Sir... I will be your offering if it would please you?" She said in her soft sweet voice, knowing for some it would have been enough to melt their hearts, her singing was even more beautiful, and her dancing was even more stunning. She knew she did not look like much, but with a bath and some proper clothing, or none, she would look even more attractive than she did now, standing in front of him.

Behind her she could hear others, mainly the children being hushed by parents, the little ones not wanting her to leave as well as those she had helped, now realizing how much she had really done once she had made her choice, and clearly she had made a large impact on everyone, but not a single person noticed until now.

 

[Kadrin]

"Silva, my dear..." the Lady Protector begins... but she does, indeed, recognise the necessity. She makes no move towards her as the girl offers herself to the Prince of Frost. His form - at least seven feet tall, whip-slender, brutal in his patrician disregard - dwarfs hers, and he looks her body over with no expression in his ice-white eyes.

Around him, parents hold back their children - boys and girls who know too much of heroism and not enough of fear. One aging grandmother doesn't hold quite tight enough to her grandson, who darts forward: "No!" he shouts. "Leave Silva alone! If it wasn't for her, Mother would have..."

There's a flash in the snowstorm, and suddenly a woman is kneeling in front of the boy. Just as the Prince, her whole body is formed of cold blues and whites; she is, however, nude, her long white hair her only covering, and most of that behind her. Her face is expressionless as she lays a warning finger on the boy's lips - he gasps at the touch of her cold skin.

There's one more motion from the crowd. A big man, almost as tall as the Prince himself, and built of muscle from years of hard work in the fields, takes a half-step forward... remembering how Silva had helped the midwife deliver his wife's baby, how she'd saved the mother's life and brought the first smile to the baby's lips. She'd been easy to overlook since then, just another beggar, but now that she was to be taken away he couldn't help but realise what he owed her.

Another flash, and another woman, this one behind him. She looks the exact image of her sister, and from the man's grunt as she presses her ripe body to his back, she's just as cold. One of her hands strokes the man's chest; the other set a long, sharp 'fingernail' of ice to his throat, pressing just deep enough that a single drop of blood leaks onto her hand and freezes into a tiny red crystal.

That's enough warning, and the crowd goes silent.

The Prince touches the collar on the broken girl's throat, and at the bare touch of his fingertip, it opens, letting her free - of physical restraints, if not of her mental torment. With the leash in one hand, he holds out the collar in the other, towards Silva. His blank eyes challenge her; to accept the collar from his own hand, to make herself the year's offering.

 

[Demorica]

Silva was slightly surprised by everyone, but for years she knew this would happen, once she was gone others would realize all she had done and really regret the way they had treated her, and other than the children standing around and crying the Lady Protector, no one really noticed every way she helped till now. As the boy stepped forward she looked back over at him, a frown on her full lips as she looked up at him shaking her head, telling him to be silent since he would only make it worse, but before she could even say anything she noticed what the prince was doing and looked around, biting her lip softly she looked back to him.

She did not want to go, that was certain, but she knew she had to, and hoped that she could help them by doing this, and she would try her best to keep him from returning for another girl, but all she could do was hope she was strong enough to handle such a thing, not sure what he was going to do to her, or if she even wanted to know. She looked to the Lady Protector with a nod, "Please take care, of yourself and them." She said, referring to the whole village as she watched the man release the collar from the girl on the ground.

She looked at the girl, wondering what had been done to make her that way, and in the pit of her stomach Silva knew she would probably find out first hand, knowing he would not hold back when using her as he pleased, if anything he might take it harder on her for being a resilient elf girl and try harder. Looking at the collar in his hand she could feel her heart beating in her chest move to her throat, but she nodded and brought her hand up to the collar, placing her fingers on it for a moment, feeling as though this thing would cause her great weight and suffering, as it had no doubt done to other girls in the past and held memories of what they would tell no one in the village.

Grasping it she wondered if it was cold because of the prince, or if it was just her imagination playing a trick on her. None the less she moved her long silver hair out of the way so she could bring the collar to her neck and with a soft exhale as though trying to calm herself she clasped the collar around her neck, fastening it in place, knowing she had just given herself to him, at least her body was his now, her mind and soul were hers, in her opinion and mind, and hers to give, but only to the right person, and if she felt anything for him she might very well give them to him as well, but that was still to be decided since she had a year, to either convince him that she could be his and the only one he would need, or be returned as an empty shell as the girl on the ground was.

She waited for him to lead the way, clearly knowing he was in charge and having the leash only cemented it as she looked up at him with her crystal blue eyes, a kind look in them. To her he had defended them from so many things, it was only right that she be kind to him, and thankful for all he had done, so she actually looked up at him, frightened, but with and honest kindness, "Shall we leave now Sir?" She asked, using the term Sir since he had not told her to say anything else.

 

[Kadrin]

Everything goes white.

The snowstorm that had been punishing the town sweeps in around the Prince and his new toy, bringing the snow-women with them and encasing like a cocoon. Then it breaks, disappearing into thin air. The punishing heat returns to the town, and for at least the next year, they shall not see the girl who's done so much for their village again. And if they do see her in a year, she will not be the same. Another broken shell...

But the Lady Protector lets out a breath, and slowly - but for a few weeping children - the people make their way back to work. They've continued their devil's bargain with the lesser evil, and the Prince of Frost will protect them for another year.

Meanwhile, the snow opens in front of a great and terrible palace of ice. It's easily three times the size of any mortal palace, with no brick nor mortar - fused entirely from solid, opaque ice. The whiteness of the unnatural edifice seems to suggest death a dozen times over, with the ice managing to look at once like bones and blades, and the harshness of the season of death.

The Prince of Frost almost dismissively hands his new girl's leash to one of the snow women, who has appeared beside him. "Mournwind," he says to one, and "Soulsorrow" to the other. "Take this girl to the beginning room. Give her preparation for the cold, bathe her, and dress her as my pets warrant. You may arouse her should the hunger take you, but you will make sure not to overstep your bounds just yet. Later I may give you right to deeper intimacies with her."

He hasn't yet spoken a word to Silva, and he doesn't before he leaves - taking two steps towards the palace, and collapsing into a field of broken snow.

Mournwind tugs the girl's leash - not lightly - and pulls her into a fast walk behind her. The first room in the palace is a great hall of pillars, statues, and works of art, all made of ice; Silva can see images of a being that looks like the Prince, but not nearly so dark or warlike. Indeed, he smiles, and even seems to dance, a beautiful woman in his arms. At a close inspection, or as close as Mournwind and Soulsorrow will allow her, the woman doesn't look dissimilar to Mournwind and Soulsorrow themselves.

She is guided to a room that, for the first time, had something other than ice in it. A bearskin rug - polar, doubtless - lies on the floor, spread out and looking particularly comfortable. There are wooden chairs by the walls, and a wooden shelf holds bottles and jars - an alchemical motherlode - upon it.

Mournwind sets the girl's leash on the table. As Soulsorrow moves to the jars and begins mixing liquids in a silver goblet, Mournwind easily unfastens her long, white dress, letting it puddle behind her, showing the unnatural beauty of her naked white form; she gestures to Silva, indicating that she must do the same.

 

[Demorica]

Silva was a little startled and her body seemed shocked as she was taken from the warmth of the town to this cold palace, knowing it was his powers that had done it, but it was still amazing. Hearing his order she opened her mouth to say something, but he was already walking away and with a sigh she remained silent. When her leash was tugged at she nearly fell as she tried to hurry so she would not be dragged and went into the palace with the two women, if thats what you could call them.

Looking at the art she might not have been close, but being an elf she could see it well enough to see the figure in the picture, and even the prince seemed happy, she wondered what had happened, where that woman was and why he was taking girls like her if there was someone that made him happy, but then of course she already was piecing together thing, wondering if she had left him, or even died, usually those were the only reason to turn someone's heart to such a hard block of ice. She wondered if she would, or could even get him to smile, but shrugging it off she followed through the halls and into the room, relieved to see that this room was warm enough for her.

Upon looking around she felt herself a little nervous about the snow women, she did not know what they were, or what they would do to her, and she was still a virgin, so she did not know if she wanted them playing with her in such a way, and not only that, but she needed a bath and looked over to see her indicating to remove her rags, feeling a little ashamed that her clothing could not be something as presentable as their white gowns, which led her to wonder what appropriate attire for her would be, if anything.

Nodding she slipped off her skirt, seeing it was made of three different pieces of cloth and barely held together with some string and rope. Her top she slipped off to show off her firm breasts, she could afford no undergarments, so she was already completely bare, her left arm wrapping around her breasts to try and hide herself, still having her modesty for the moment, while her other hand went to try and hide her bare naked womanhood looking around nervously she spoke to the, "Um... May I have a bath or some way of cleaning up, I don't think I am presentable for you or the prince at the moment," She said, knowing she had not had a proper bath in a while, but despite that fact she was still gorgeous, and she did not look too filthy except for some dust here and there on her skin.

 

[Kadrin]

Mournwind shakes her head, sharply. She steps forward, taking Silva's hand in one of hers, and Silva for the first time truly feels the coldness of the courtier's skin. Mournwind leads Silva to a pit in the corner of the room - inside is mounted a wooden bath, and in the bath is a huge amount of water, which looks like a luxurious bath. However... no steam rises from it.

Mournwind presses Silva's hand into the bath, taking it away from her virgin sex. The water feels almost colder than the ice - as if it could be below freezing and remain water. Mournwind leaves her hand there long enough for it to hurt, which is not long at that temperature, and then waits another second before drawing it out. She shakes her head again, and then gestures to Soulsorrow.

Soulsorrow, for her part, pours a jug of her mixed liquid into a glass bottle. It's some kind of swirling indigo fluid, dark and mysterious. She takes it over to the two other women.

Soulsorrow hands the bottle to Mournwind.

Mournwind hands the bottle to Silva.

Soulsorrow instructs Silva in the sisters' way of mime; she raises an imaginary bottle in an imaginary toast, before setting it to her lips and drinking deeply.

 

[Demorica]

Feeling the woman grasp her hand she tried to pull away, feeling it very cold and uncomfortable. She remove her hands from protecting her so the woman would not be angry with her. Feeling her hand go into the water she instantly tried to pull it out, feeling it freezing and hurting a little now. Once her hand was out of the water she yanked it out of the woman's grasp and quickly pulled her hand into herself using her other hand to warm it, concentrating on using her magic to warm her hand, clearly angry by what Mournwind had done.

Looking to Soulsorrow she took the bottle, looking at it before asking softly, "What is it? What will it do to me?" She felt a little bad for asking when they could not answer with words, clearly not trusting something that they had concocted without her know the ingredients and would rather not drink it.

However she gave a soft sigh looking from one to the other, "If I were to not drink it, you would force it down my throat wouldn't you?" She asked, figuring she already knew the answer, so with a deep breath she took a small drink of it before handing it back and stepping away from the two, not sure what it was or what it might do to her, but she did not want them near her in case they tried to do anything to her, or make a move. She was not trusting, but then again after hearing their master say they could have fun with her she was a little wary of their actions and after everything that had happened to her she had good reason not to believe anything anyone told her, or trust anyone around her.

She wrapped her arms around herself to keep herself warm, being naked and after being touched by the woman it only made her cold and she wanted to get wrapped up in blankets and have a warm meal.

 

[Kadrin]

The potion goes down like ice water - nothing like what Silva would want in this freezing landscape - but as it runs down her throat it seems to heat up, until a few seconds after drinking her throat and tongue have all the fire of a good brandy. Soulsorrow demonstrates the effects of the potion: she hugs her large breasts, hidden by her white dress, and shudders feverishly; she drinks an imaginary potion; and then she stands straight, wiping off her forehead as if with relief.

Indeed, things... feel warmer. At least, less cold...

Mournwind takes the bottle back, swishes it back and forth thoughtfully to hear the remainder of the potion sloshing in the bottle, and sets her fingers spaced apart on the side to judge how much she thinks remains. She takes a firm step forward, puts one cold - but not as cold as it was before, apparently - hand on Silva's cheek, and drizzles another small shot of the potion over her lips. It's not quite forcing it down her throat, but she apparently thinks that Silva needs a good bit more potion in her.

At that point, a wicked smirk crosses her snow-white face, and she moves to the bearskin rug. Nude and lovely in her exotic way, she sits with her legs straight out, and beckons to Silva with one finger. With her other hand, she tips the potion bottle over her breasts, running a trickle of the liquid over the top of her full tits, little drops of the liquid forming buds on her firm nipples.

 

[Demorica]

Silva was worried about the effect of the potion and as she watched the woman mime what the potion did she bit her lip, a small frown on them as she looked from one to another, she knew she should not have drank anything that was given to her here, but she had decided it best that she do as she was told, and now she was angry with herself for allowing herself to do so, but now as she began to feel it warming up she looked from one woman to the other.

The young elf was hesitant however when they wanted her to drink more, not sure if that was safe, but soon she felt the potion on her lips, giving a soft whimper, clearly not wanting it, but she finally gave in, licking it off for a moment before looking over to the other sister on the floor at the rug, watching as the potion was poured over her, clearly she could tell what the snow woman wanted, but she was not sure if she wanted to do such a thing, and paused before deciding it best to listen to them since they could just overpower her and force anything they wanted onto her. Seeing her finger motion her over she nodded slowly and cautiously moved over to the woman before kneeling to her on the rug, not certain what to do as she looked at her then the potion on her breasts.

She figured she knew what she was suppose to do, but her kind were very prude, and she had done nothing like this, so as she leaned forward to lick the potion off her body she wondered if she would melt like snow, or if there would be some other reaction from her body, finding that these women were very odd, yet interesting, and so she cleaned the potion off of her breasts before withdrawing a little, blushing softly, a little embarrassed at what she had done, not that it would be the last time she would.

 

[Kadrin]

Mournwind, as expected, makes no sound as the beautiful elf-slave licks the potion from her breasts. She does, however, lean her head back, close her eyes, and part her lips; clear signs that while these unnatural women are far from standard humans or even standard elves, they nonetheless take pleasure in much the same way. Her nipples harden all the further, goose-flesh pimpling around her aureolae. Under the potion, her skin is still cold, but not nearly as cold as her touch had been earlier, and as Silva laps up more potion from Mournwind's body it seems to be getting warmer and warmer.

Soulsorrow, on the whole, simply watches her sister take full advantage of the pretty elf girl, but before long she too is in motion. Walking behind Silva, she strokes the girl's long hair over her back with one cool hand, and then picks up her discarded rags. With a gesture of one hand, she turns them to ice; with another, she shatters them, ice melting over the floor.

Mournwind takes the girl's leash in her hand and pulls her closer, Silva's face between her breasts for a moment. She looks down with a sadist's pleasure, and then gives Silva a bare amount of room, pulling her down between white legs. Mournwind's pussy is hairless and mostly as white as the rest of her; on the inside it fades to a very light coral pink. It's soon hidden, as Mournwind pours more of the potion over the lips of her sex and in between... it's quite obvious what she expects to get from Silva now.

 

[Demorica]

Silva was a little curious about the women, seeing her mouth open as if to moan, but nothing came out, wondering if they were just like human girls or herself, just mute, and if so why he could not give them voices, or if he just did not want to. But she let that thought fade away as she did as the woman wanted, blushing brightly at what they were having her do, but it was not as though she had too much choice, the master had given them permission to play with her, so it was either she tried to enjoy it and adjust, or be in much discomfort, unease, and maybe pain. So she figured cooperating would be the best since this might be a normal thing for them here, she was not sure yet.

Feeling the hand rake through her long silver hair she looked over her shoulder for a moment to see her take the rags she had owned and shatter them, her eyes widening thinking to herself that that was all she ever owned, but her attention was brought back to Mournwind as she took hold of her leash and pulled her closer to her, making the girl give a small bit of resistance, not use to this type of treatment but she allowed her to press her breasts against her face and is brought down between the woman's legs to see her sex, suspecting that was probably the most color on these women other than the white snow. However when the potion was poured on she was not sure what to do, but the look from the woman on her back already told her what was expected of her and she bit her lip softly before doing what the woman wanted, feeling very nervous and uncomfortable as she lowered her lips to the woman's potion covered sex, licking off the potion as carefully as she could.

Using her tongue she lapped up the liquid, but figured this was not just for her to drink the potion, but also to pleasure the woman. So Silva leaned her lips in, kissing against Mournwind's light pink sex before licking again, using only her tongue as she balanced herself with her hands, using her tongue to lick and flick a the nub that the woman hand, not really seeing it too clearly, but she could feel it against her tongue and so tried to see if that was what she wanted until she instructed her to do more.

 

[Kadrin]

Despite her insistent hands and her firm grip on Silva's leash, Mournwind seemed fully capable of letting Silva lick the potion - and Mournwind's pussy - all on her own. Her eyes fluttered closed, a beautiful expression, and her lips parted in soft, awakening joy. Before long, she was bucking her hips at Silva's tongue, the hand spilling the potion over herself shivering and applying it all over her sex and mound and inner thighs, and not long after that her thighs clamped to Silva's cheeks as her mouth opened in a silent scream. Throughout her orgasm, Mournwind made not a sound.

And with that, the potion bottle was empty... and the ice castle, and the woman's skin, seemed really quite warm. Even pleasant.

The effect of the potion became all the clearer as Soulsorrow took Silva's leash from her sister, and guided the new slave to the bath. Not nearly so forceful as Mournwind had been, but every inch as insistent, she set Silva's hand into the bathwater... which had before been painfully freezing, and seemed now to be pleasantly, indulgently warm. With her point made, Soulsorrow slipped into the bath in a slow, languid motion, resting for a hedonistic moment in what must, to her, be delightfully warm water; and beckoned Silva to follow her a moment later.