In the Court of the Ice Queen

The young summoner's imagination leaped to provide her with an image of her frozen-over hole in microcosm, tiny crystals of ice moving and dancing under Shiva's direction, massaging Yuna's sensitive flesh right down to the nerves. Shiva's tongue was the catalyst, stoking the ice inside her into activity as it bathed her clit with yet more frost, the Cold once more spreading through her body at the Aeon's kiss, though from a very different starting point this time. The radiating chill of it seemed to reach right down to the bones of her hips, a pleasure cool and inexorable as ice, spreading slowly, expanding to fill every inch of her. Yuna wanted, instinctively, to roll her hips against the Aeon's licking tongue as it circled her clit, but could not; encased in frozen fabric, with her body slowly numbing under Shiva's touch, she was trapped, completely at the mercy of her captor's whim.

With her eyesight taken from her, Yuna's imagination was allowed to race, showing her images of the Aeon kneeling between her legs at the foot of the bed, icebound eyes peeking up over the top of Yuna's hips, blue lips clasped tightly to her pussy. More wetness seeped from her hole as she thought of such things, only to freeze against her almost immediately, providing yet more ice for the Aeon to puppeteer for her summoner's pleasure, making the shaft inside her thicker and stronger, fucking Yuna deeper and with more forceful thrusts. The young woman squirmed and writhed as much as her icy bondage would allow, bucking her hips those few, insignificant inches with abandon. The Cold reached her belly, stretched up into her chest to wrap around Yuna's heart, rolling up like a chill mist to her throat, where it gripped like an icy fist.

Condensation began to rise off of Yuna's skin, room temperature apparently so much hotter than her current body temperature to generate it. Even the sensation of vapor rising off of her was pleasurable in this state, the Cold pressing at pleasant places in her brain, freezing nerves in a constant state of ecstasy, turning all of her to ice and resonating each individual crystal of Yuna's Cold body with a vibrant song of utter, mind-filling joy. Lights danced in the darkness behind her eyelids, her breath came in sharp, gasping pants, her nipples hard and scraping endlessly against the frozen surface of her shirt. Entombed in the Cold, Yuna writhed, Shiva's shameless slut.

The Aeon reached out, dragged her fingernails down Yuna's belly, the ice coating her clothes apparently offering no difficulty to the ice goddess, though Yuna could not see why. What mattered was the sharp, diamond points of the creature's nails as they scraped along her soft, vulnerable skin, causing Yuna's stomach to tremble and twitch beneath them, the pain of it like snow flurries curling and spiraling deeper into the summoner's abdomen. She gasped, felt her breath condensing in the air, her lungs aching as she drew in another; the air was far hotter outside her than it was in her, the Cold having taken her so completely.

She came suddenly, her mind too busy struggling to comprehend the effects of the Cold upon her to realize how close she had come to orgasm, and her climax hit her like a shock as a result. Her back arched in ecstasy, pushing herself harder into Shiva's nails, the jabbing pain unable to penetrate the sheer blinding pleasure of Yuna's orgasm. Pleasure slammed into her, flooding Yuna's body in a cold tide, washing through her hips and climbing up her spine like branching tendrils of frost. Her lips parted in a wordless, weak whimper as sensation overwhelmed her, vocal cords too stiff in the Cold to manage anything louder, until every ounce of breath escaped her lungs and Yuna was left gaping into the dark. Numb, pleasure-filled muscles tensed tight as possible, going just as hard as the ice that fucked her still, flexing and moving with Shiva's magic, yet somehow contriving to remain hard where needed, pressing and tickling and stimulating with uncanny accuracy, against sensitive places that Yuna had not even known existed.

The summoner came, harder than she ever had before. Her fingers could never match the prowess of the Cold.

It was a climax that wracked Yuna from head to toe, made her muscles ache as they contracted, turned her clit and nipples so sensitive they throbbed, filled her mind with thoughts of Shiva, giving herself to the young summoner in ways she knew would never happen in reality. The Cold pulsed within her in time with the pulsations of her cunt, shockwaves of ecstasy rippling through Yuna's core, each one sending her surging higher and higher, more intense than the last. Just when she thought she had reached the peak, that her body could feel no more, the icicle in her chest would resound with the flicking of Shiva's tongue against her clit, and Yuna would discover just how wrong she was.

And then, she did reach her peak. Shiva's attentions reduced down to a slow, leisurely pulse inside her, a gentle roll of her tongue, and for a moment Yuna floated at that height, adrift in the sort of pleasure she had never before felt. She began her descent from there, muscles relaxing and sensation beginning to fall within her, her ice-bound body brittle and sore yet floating on a frozen sea of satisfaction, the feeling of it unexplored yet promising greater heights of pleasure yet to be experienced, lurking at the heart of Shiva's magic. The Cold could give her this, over and over...

Then, Shiva flicked her tongue, twisting the ice inside Yuna so that it pressed hard against a particular spot inside of her, and the summoner came again.

The Aeon began a skilled, patient cycle; there was an active phase, where Shiva's tongue was a constant presence on Yuna's clit, licking and slathering that sensitive bud with sleet, the ice she had placed inside her summoner rippling and changing as needed to provide constant, near agonizing stimulation. Once Yuna had surged again to the height of climax, the point at which more pleasure represented a real risk of nerve damage, the passive phase would begin, a glorious few moments of respite in which the young summoner could regain her breath. Her head would clear slightly, her thoughts given time to reorganize and settle, her body would begin to unclench... and then Shiva would circle her mouth around Yuna's pussy in a particular way, Yuna would shiver under a gust of icy wind from the Cold, and she would be surging back into the active phase again.

How long was Yuna held captive in that cycle, fluctuating between relentless, mind-erasing pleasure and desperate, short-lived relief? Yuna herself couldn't even say, her perception of time torn apart and rendered into dust by the sheer sensation that flattened her mind against the back of her brain. She couldn't even enumerate the number of orgasms that had wracked her, each one flowing into the next so that the boundaries between distinct orgasmic events blurred into one long, sustained moment of climax that stretched out for an eternity. Bound in ice, with her eyes locked closed and the Cold ripping every sensation from her body but climax, Yuna's mind eroded away until there was nothing but the pleasure remaining.

She had been made to come for Shiva...

When the Aeon finally relented and moved away, it took Yuna a while to notice; her body continued to move in the way it was meant to, writhing on the desperate edge of another climactic wave, lust etching itself into her every curve. But the Aeon's lips were no longer clasped to her clit, and Yuna was able to recede from the edge of orgasm this time, the Cold beginning to recede with it, though the icicle in her chest throbbed at its slightest weakening; a pang of abandonment went through Yuna then, and she felt herself frowning as her body temperature rose and the ice binding her in place began to melt.

Her eyes finally opened, and Shiva was standing over her. Without waiting for a reaction, the ice goddess leaned in and pressed her lips to Yuna's, forcing her tongue into the human woman's mouth. The summoner shuddered, tasting her own arousal frozen on the Aeon's tongue, the Cold in her thrumming and spreading once more through her chest. It was only the smallest of growth, heavy frost settling against her ribs and then receding as Shiva pulled away, flowing out on the Aeon's lips. Yuna found herself chasing the feeling, the purity and simplicity of purpose that came with the Cold, craning her neck to pursue Shiva's kiss as it vanished; she needed to be ice once more, to ring with the pleasure that only the Aeon could bring, her body singing the song of ice and the goddess' dominion.

Sleep, her voice rang out in crystalline clarity through Yuna's mind, and like a switch being flipped, Yuna's mind obeyed. The summoner's mismatched eyes drifted closed, her consciousness shutting down near instantly, slipping into the realm of dreams, where Shiva increasingly seemed to hold sway. Sliding down through a world of shadows and flickering flame, Yuna found herself within the Aeon's elemental palace again, glittering walls and serpentine servants on display for the mistress of that place as she lounged upon her throne.

This night, Yuna dreamed she was ice.

Her body- such as it was- was smooth and free of imperfections, pure in a way her true self could not begin to approach. More than that, it was connected through the soles of her feet to the rest of the castle, so that her consciousness could spread out; Yuna became the walls and the floor beneath Shiva's feet, the latter seeming like the correct place for her, beneath the goddess and all she represented. She could watch, from every angle, as the mistress toyed with her servants- lamia, Yuna knew now, the word dropping into her mind suddenly- the gathered serpents reaching out eagerly for even the smallest of touches, reacting to them with delighted shivers, as though they had been blessed.

Yuna knew the feeling, truly; Shiva's touch was addictive, the creeping Cold that filled the body from it almost revelatory, washing away the concerns of the world and filling one with a strange sort of gratitude that they have been allowed this privilege, to be placed so completely under Shiva's dominion. There was freedom in the Cold, and safety in the castle; here, there was no Sin, no fiends or machina, no pilgrimage and constant, daily struggle. The Final Aeon faded from Yuna's mind here, the awful sacrifices to come replaced entirely with devotion to the Aeon in front of her, the beautiful azure goddess who kept her safe from Spira's demands upon her life.

Slowly, inexorably, ice ground away every problem that Yuna had ever had.

And so, with the eyes of one taking in a deeply educational lesson, Yuna watched as Shiva selected one from her serpentine retinue and beckon her closer to the throne, before the queen that sat upon it. She was an achingly beautiful creature, this lamia, with a tail that shimmered with dark scales, contrasted with her pale, smooth skin and small breasts that sat high and firm on her bare chest. She approached the throne carefully, warily, blue eyes filled with reverence for the figure ahead, though her body radiated trepidation for what Shiva wanted from her; just watching gave Yuna the idea that the Aeon was a figure of some renown to the lamia, her power worth worshiping but not entirely friendly to them either. From her vantage point, bound up within the ice of the castle, Yuna wondered exactly how many of the serpents had suffered for displeasing their queen...

She did not have long to consider that idea though, as the chosen lamia reached the throne and Shiva lay her hand upon her, fingertips skating along the serpent's collarbone. The lamia gasped, shuddered, as veins of ice fanned out across her skin from the point of contact, faster and faster, curving and growing to encompass all of her, like a bodysuit of frost. Over human skin and snake scales alike, the ice did not discriminate, and it moved like a living thing, honing in on the lamia's breasts, the cleft at her hips where her legs might have begun, even around her neck, enveloping the collar that rested there. Before Yuna's eyes, the serpent was transformed into a glimmering statue, a diamond figure of frost that sparkled constantly.

There was something beautiful about that...

Shiva's hand lingered on the now frozen serpent, fingers sliding lightly down the glimmering crags of frost that clung to her skin. Around them, the other lamia gathered, forming a rough circle just out of the Aeon's reach, cooing with wistful desire of their own, frowning ruefully and remarking, in their hissing language, on the luck of their frozen brethren. Looking closer, Yuna discovered the reason why: she could see the lamia's eyes moving under the ice. She was still aware.

She was still feeling, and coated from head to toe with the goddess' loving Cold. Yuna knew from recent experience how that felt, and she shivered to imagine being encased in that sensation...

Shiva's touch wandered the lamia's body from place to place- breasts, back, down the length of her tail- and wherever her hands went, the ice visibly flexed and shifted in her wake. Yuna could only imagine what the serpent was feeling; cold mouths sucking at her skin, chill fingers tracing over aching, sensitive nerves... though the summoner had only recently been released from that same sensation, she found herself yearning for it, wishing she could step into the lamia's shoes. Not that the legless woman could wear any, of course.

The creature encased in the ice did not move, exactly, as bound as she was there couldn't have been much freedom to do so. But Yuna could still see muscles tensing and flexing beneath the surface, skin tightening and- yes- a blush forming on cheeks encased in crystal. Those eyes kept changing under the frost too, subject to a mounting passion that grew in heat and intensity until the lamia's expression had become a glazed, lustful mien cast in shimmering ice. She couldn't speak, couldn't even open her mouth, but Yuna knew that under it all, she was moaning.

Shiva's fingers strayed lower, brushing over the lower stretches of the serpent's hips. The ice groaned, cracked, the lamia visibly moving inside. From within could be heard the sound of a scream...

Quickly, Shiva raised her hand to the level of her servant's chest and arranged her fingers a particular way. Her middle finger snapped out, flicking the ice just above the lamia's breasts; a fracture began at the point of contact and rapidly spread outward, sharding smaller and smaller until the entire icy shell shattered, diamond dust drifting in th air as the lamia collapsed to the floor, writhing and shaking, clearly in orgasm. Her tail coiled and snapped, wrapping tightly around itself as the throes of pleasure quaked through the serpent, gasping breaths and shuddering moans resounding off of the icy walls. The lamia's back arched off of the floor, the very tip of her tail slicing through the air, wriggling independently of the rest. It went on for far longer than Yuna felt it should have.

As the lamia collapsed, slack and panting, to the floor, Shiva turned to Yuna, eyes piercing the spot where her dream-self watched the proceedings, spellbound. The movement puzzled the other serpents, who spoke in hushed whispers as their mistress appeared inordinately interested in a patch of empty air, the thought of which suggesting some interesting things to Yuna about how real her dreams really were. Shiva approached her at a languid pace, shouldering past her retinue and leaving the former object of her attentions still writhing on the ground, until she was eye-to-eye with her summoner, her expression inscrutable.

In her realm, she opened her mouth to speak, gesturing back to the shivering lamia, going through the aftershocks of climax. Audible for the first time, Shiva's voice was smooth and, yes, cold, the gentle whisper of winter wind through snow hanging heavy on dead branches. Yuna shivered, simply to hear it.

'This could be you.'

Yuna's gaze drifted over to the lamia, taking in the look of utter rapture on her face, flushed cheeks creasing in a blissful smile, eyes staring as though at some far flung, paradise. Her mind filled, instantly, easily, with torrents of images of how she herself had spent the night, trapped in the same icy embrace, feeling the same pleasure at only a fraction of the intensity. Without thinking, she nodded slowly, agreeing; it could be her.

It should be her...

Shiva smiled, nodded herself. The dream-world shifted beneath them, glided away until Yuna found herself in the waking world once more. She opened her eyes reluctantly, seeing slivers of sunlight peeking in through the curtains, her entire night apparently dreamed away in that ice palace. There was no trace of Shiva's presence in the room now, not even a puddle of melt-water to suggest that the room had been flooded with ice; even the bed beneath Yuna was bone dry, and she knew she had been frozen last night.

There was, essentially, nothing here to suggest that anything had happened at all.

Yuna went about her day like a zombie, proceeding through her pilgrimage on tired legs, her mind filled constantly with the events of the night before and her body hot and irritable. The very sunlight on her skin was uncomfortably harsh now, the Cold embedded in her chest shivering and squirming against her heart in the heat. Silent and staring straight ahead, she walked apart from her guardians, saying little in her travels and simply waiting for night to come again.

This time, she summoned Shiva by choice.

The Aeon appeared with her hands on her hips, a wolfish smile curving her lips. Clearly, she had been expecting this, and seeing it happen delighted her. She ran a frigid hand down the side of Yuna's face, the gesture almost tender, had it not also contained a good degree of possessiveness. The summoner could already feel ice beginning to creep up the soles of her feet and across the palms of her hands, growing to cover her limbs and anchor them to the bed, which was now a slab of ice beneath her. Her smile now filled with power and dominance, Shiva moved closer, towering over Yuna's now bound form, reaching out to gather up the cloth of the simple shift she wore in one hand. The Aeon pulled, the fabric no match for her strength; it gave and tore, coming away from Yuna in one piece.

She hadn't worn panties or anything else beneath the shift to bed tonight. She had known what was likely to happen.

Now naked, Yuna allowed herself to be manipulated into a new position, the ice bonds that held her migrating across the frozen surface of the bed so that she was flat on her back, her legs curving down over the edge, arms held over her head. Shiva looked down at her captive for a moment, then raised a hand over her head without looking up; long, thin icicles began to form on the ceiling, catching and refracting the moonlight coming in through the window, itself made misty by the condensation that formed there. That hand that was held aloft came back down again, palm laid flat on Yuna's bare chest, between her breasts.

The icicle that the Aeon had left there began to thrum, fingers of Cold reaching upward toward her hand. Yuna gasped at the sensation of it, her back arching, body reaching up into the contact, aching for more. The Cold had seemed so terribly far away during the daylight, though Yuna had spent large swathes of time attempting to recapture the feeling, fleeting as it was. The endeavor was like remembering a dream, the sensations becoming more and more hazy the more time passed. But now it all came back, sharp and chill, filling her chest and clinging to her ribs. Yuna's heart beat coldly in her chest, the hair at the back of her neck standing stiff...