The Winter King

My mind was a jumble of thoughts. I didn't know how I kept going as long as I did, in the condition I was in. The cold was fading from my limbs, surely not a good thing. I had heard of people dying from frost while feeling so hot that they stripped their clothes off.

A sound came from behind me, a low growl, like an animal.

I ran on, pushing through the snowdrifts, my breathing loud in my ears. Something was there. Stalking me. A presence on the edge of my awareness. Was it Sergey? A beast of some kind? Or something else entirely?

Something snapped behind me. I made to look over my shoulder and in my haste I tripped, landing heavily in the snow. For a moment, I was too scared to turn around and see what was following me. My chest heaved with barely controlled panic.

Finally, I lifted myself from the snow and looked up.

Before me stood a man. He was tall, easily seven feet, and his eyes were the blue of a frozen lake gleaming in the darkness. His hair was stark white. As I stared, the wind stirred around him, lifting the snow from the ground and swirling it in a halo. He was beautiful and terrifying, all at once. Undeniably, unmistakably, the winter king. Kholod.

I couldn't process what I was seeing - a fairytale in the flesh.

"Ninoshka," he said, and his voice was deep, "Ty tak daleko ot doma." To my surprise, I could understand him perfectly. You are so far from home.

"I'm so cold," I whispered, my voice trembling, unable to think of anything else.

"Come, let me warm you," he responded in English, extending a hand towards me. Like the story, his voice was soft and soothing as honey.

I should have run. But I was exhausted and freezing. A story was coming to life before my eyes, and I didn't know whether I was hallucinating or worse, if I had truly become a sacrifice to an ancient god. In defeat, I accepted his hand, and warmth flooded through me as he pulled me to my feet.

His fingers trailed over my cheek. "You smell of springtime," he murmured. His eyes were half-lidded, his gaze heavy and dark. "Let me taste you."

My skin erupted in goosebumps. I started to pull away but his arm caught me around my waist.

"Do not run," he growled, "You will only anger me."

His eyes were hypnotizing, and for a moment, I couldn't look away.

Then I came back to myself. I tried to break free, but his grip was unyielding. With a snarl, he pushed me back into the snow. The cold rushed up to meet me. I lay motionless on the ground before him as he removed his coat, his shirt, then finally his pants.

I couldn't help but stare at the naked god before me. His body was muscular, lean and strong, with a sheen like frost across his skin. He looked like someone had shaped him from solid marble. His cock stood hard between his legs, enormous and flushed an icy blue at its mushroom tip. I whimpered, terrified, and squeezed my eyes shut at the sight. I felt like prey that had been hunted and captured, now frozen in fear and waiting for what came next.

I felt his weight settle on top of me. He gripped my chin, turning my face up towards him. "Look at me," he commanded.

I didn't want to. I didn't want to see those eyes, burning bright against the darkness. But I forced myself to meet his gaze.

"Good," he said, "You will look at me as I take you."

No. No, he couldn't mean... "Please," I cried, "I've never- Please spare me."

"You would beg mercy from the winter?" he scoffed, "That is foolish. I will have what is mine."

So close, I could smell him; the sharp tang of the winter wind, the fresh snowfall. But beneath that, there was something else, a not entirely unpleasant musk, reminding me that he may be a god, or maybe a demon, but he was also a man.

He pushed my dress up to my thighs and spread my legs apart, settling between them. His cock looked impossibly huge pressed against me, teasing at my entrance. I couldn't imagine how it would fit inside of me.

He reached down and his fingers stroked me, finding the wetness that had gathered there. I tried to wriggle away from him but it was no use. Shame and arousal flushed through me as he touched me, his fingers exploring. When he pressed gentle circles to my clit, I shuddered. "So responsive," he murmured, "Your blood is hot and your heart is pounding. I would feel your warmth around me."

"Kholod," I whispered, though I wasn't sure what I was asking him.

He took my wrists in his hands and pinned them beside me in the snow. I looked up at the fierceness in his eyes, his gaze like a wild storm. No amount of struggling could dislodge his grip or stop what he was about to do.

He slid the head of his cock back and forth between the sensitive folds of my pussy, making me squirm, then he pushed forward and entered me inch by agonizing inch. There was a flash of pain as he broke through any resistance. I felt impossibly stretched and every time I thought he must be all the way in he continued. "I can't," I sobbed, "It's too much."

Finally, when his hips were flush with mine, he stilled, his cock fully seated inside of me. I couldn't believe that monster had fit inside of me. I felt like I couldn't possibly take any more.

"You will learn," he said, his voice was low, "I will fuck you, Ninoshka, until you understand that there is no escape." My eyes found his, and the intensity there stole my breath.

My heart beat wildly as he began to thrust. Slowly, at first, allowing me to adjust to the feel of him. Then harder, faster, until he was pounding into me, his hips driving him deeper. He made long strokes that seemed to fill me to bursting.

Then he withdrew his cock, and for a moment I thought that maybe he was finished with me. Instead, he flipped me onto all fours. I felt his hands on my hips, pulling me back, and then the tip of his cock was pressing against me again. He thrust into me all in one motion and I cried out as he buried himself to the hilt.

His hand wrapped around my braid, and he pulled, forcing me to arch my back. I felt like a horse being broken. He used his grip on my hair to pull my body back and meet his thrusts. The snow absorbed the sounds of our fucking, the slap of skin against skin, his grunts, and my whimpers.

He thrust into me and I felt a pressure, then a give, his cock finding some pocket still further within me to slide into.

"Is this not better?" he asked, "This is how animals rut. I am the winter and you are a creature of the spring. Our coupling is inevitable, the frost and the thaw."

"Please," I whimpered. For him to stop, or for him to keep going. I didn't know.

His hand slid under the neckline of my dress and he ripped it down. My breasts swung heavy with each thrust. He reached around and grasped one, squeezing roughly, his hand mauling the soft skin. The sensation of him fucking me was overwhelming, and despite my terror, pleasure began to build inside of me.

His hips snapped against me, the rhythm growing frantic. He released my breast and instead gripped my hips with both hands. He pulled me back onto his cock, over and over, his pace becoming brutal. I could feel the heat pooling in my stomach, the tension building as he fucked me.

"You are mine, Ninoshka," he growled, his voice rough, "Do you understand? Mine."

My body responded to his words, my pussy clenching around him. I couldn't stop the cry that escaped my lips, or the way my body shook with the force of my orgasm. His thrusts grew more erratic, until with a grunt, he spilled himself inside of me. An icy chill bloomed inside me where his cum flooded me.

He held me there, his cock still buried inside of me, for a long moment. Then he withdrew, leaving me empty and aching. I stayed on all fours, unsure if he would allow me to move.

"Are you satisfied?" I asked him, my voice small, afraid of the answer.

"Not yet," he said, "I told you, I would have you."

"You have had me," I said.

"Ah," he said, his fingers trailing along my skin, "But not here."

His touch traveled down the length of my spine and further still, until his fingers found my asshole.

"No," I gasped, realizing what he meant.

He pressed his thumb against me, gently, but firmly. I couldn't stop him. My body had surrendered to him, and the cold had seeped into my bones. He gathered the mixture of his cum and my arousal that had spilled out of me and rubbed it around my rim, before easing the tip of his finger inside. The sensation was strange, and a little uncomfortable, but not painful.

When I didn't fight him, he slowly pressed his finger deeper. I was filled with an odd mixture of humiliation and arousal. The knowledge that he had taken my virginity and was now preparing to take another part of me made my skin flush.

He pulled his finger out, and before I could say anything, the tip of his cock was pressed against my asshole. I shook my head, the denial already forming on my lips, but his hand found the back of my neck and pressed me down into the snow. My face pressed against the snow, which no longer felt cold to me, my ass up in the air.

"Relax," he said, and his hand stroked my back, as though soothing a nervous animal, "There is a pleasure in submission."

He spat and the wetness slid down between my ass cheeks. Then slowly, he pressed his cock against my asshole, the pressure building. My body resisted him. It felt like nothing should fit there, that I was being torn open. He grunted and pushed harder. The ring of muscle gave way with a pop, and he slid inside.

I felt like the breath had been punched out of me. Tears stung at my eyes, and I tried to pull away from him, but his grip held me in place. He moved his hips, pushing his cock deeper into my ass, and the stretch was unbearable. I whimpered, the sound lost to the snow. When he was fully seated, his cock throbbed inside me.

When he fucked me, it felt like being split in two. His hands spread my ass cheeks apart, so he could watch his cock disappear inside of me. He pulled completely out and then back in again, working the mushroom tip back and forth against the tight ring of muscle.

Each time the pain of the invasion faded, only to be replaced by the mounting pressure of his cock pushing deeper. I whimpered with each thrust, as he continued his relentless assault on my body. When he tired of abusing my asshole with the tip of his cock, he pulled all the way out and pushed back in balls deep. I screamed, unable to control the pain that coursed through me.

He ignored my cries and began to fuck me, his thrusts slow and deep. He was merciless, taking what was his. His fingers dug into my hips, holding me in place. It felt like he must be rearranging my organs around him as he sped up, his cock thrusting faster, harder. I could feel him swelling inside of me.

He growled, a primal, animal sound. It was the sound of a predator claiming his prey, of the winter laying claim to its prize. In a rush I truly felt what I was to him: an offering. A vessel for a god's pleasure.

With a snarl, he rammed his cock as far into my ass as it would go and came. His cock pulsed, each wave pumping more cum into me, and it was like an ice cold river running through me. I shivered as the chill spread.

Finally he released his grip on me, and his cock slipped out. I was exhausted, drained, and my body lay motionless in the snow.

After a moment, I blinked blearily up at him, "Will you turn my heart to ice now?"

"Is that the story they tell?" he asked.

"Is it true?"

He only said, "I will not take your heart, nor freeze it."

He lifted me, and I leaned heavily against him. It felt like all the strength had left my body, and I could hardly support myself. He helped me to sit and wrapped his coat around me, the thick fur a welcome warmth.

"What will you do with me?" I asked.

He smiled, the expression startlingly soft, "You will come to my winter palace. You will warm my bed. I have never felt warmth as I have tonight, when I took you in the snow. And when the spring comes, you may return to your home."

He pulled me into his arms and stood. I wanted to protest. To fight him. But the cold had leached into my bones and I was too weak. Bruises were blossoming all across my body where his fingertips had dug into my skin. When he started to walk, the snow parted around him, as though it knew who he was. As though it recognized its master.

Exhausted, I let myself rest against his chest and closed my eyes. I wondered if this was how it felt to succumb to the storm.