Caution: This Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Consensual, Heterosexual, Fiction,
Desc: Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Under the power of the Ice Queen, the kingdom had been thrown into eternal winter. A powerful wizard, once the king's greatest adviser and the Ice Queen's mortal enemy, has been banished and now hides in the forest with his son, watching and waiting for his chance to free the people. One day the son stumbles on the most beautiful girl he's ever seen. Will she be the key to breaking the Ice Queen's spell?
"Hello? Sir? Are you in there?"
William knocked on the heavy wooden door, but no one answered. My father will be so upset. He fumed, knowing that if he didn't return home with his father's package, his immediate future would doubtless be rather unpleasant. William stepped back from the door, pulling his cloak up around his neck and face to protect him from the bitterly cold wind.
After a moment's thought, he decided it was better to return home late than empty handed, and set off for the main avenue of the village. He would simply wait for the apothecary to return.
It's not fair, he thought angrily as he walked through the village bazaar, I hate winter. All around him people walked stooped over, protecting their faces from the wind that nipped at them every step of the way. William remembered when the land was as warm as summer all year round, but that had all changed in an instant.
William had been a child when, nearly a decade ago, Miranda—known to most as the Ice Queen, though it was never said to her face—had whispered lies in the king's ear, forever changing the lives of William and his father.
Before Miranda, William's father—a powerful wizard—had been an advisor to the kingdom's aging leader, but the sorceress's sweet tongue had convinced the king his loyal servant coveted his power. The king—without heirs and ever fearful of an attempt on his rule—had ordered the wizard put to death.
William and his father had fled deep into the forest to a new home. This one was protected from prying eyes by powerful hexes. Miranda had flown into a rage at the wizard's escape, and despite the pleading of the king, had used her magic and spells to throw the nation into eternal winter as punishment. She had promised a return of summer only when the wizard was captured and brought to her. But the weather had hardened the hearts of the people and, although there were a certain few who knew of the wizard's general whereabouts, no one had informed on him to the Ice Queen, which infuriated her further.
Although banished, William's father still felt a responsibility for watching over the kingdom. Certain reagents could only be had in the village, and for a price, so once a month he sent William to see the apothecary. In exchange for a handful of coins, the warty old man handed William a package wrapped in cloth and twine. How the man knew his father's order, William never asked. And his father had ordered him to never look inside the packages.
But today the apothecary was nowhere to be found. It never occurred to William that one of the Queen's spies had seen him going to and fro to the apothecary's door. Word of such a thing immediately found its way to the Queen. All her men were immediately put on alert to watch for the fair-haired boy.
William knew none of this, of course, so he trudged the snowy village streets, blissfully unaware of the danger, waiting for a moment when he might return to retrieve his father's package.
Ahead, William heard the sounds of a crowd and hurried to see what was causing the commotion. To his delight, it was a street fair. He laughed as he saw the expressions on the faces of the children. Their wonder and astonishment was clear to see, even through the bitter chill.
As William admired a contortionist, a vision of beauty passed in front of his eyes, and his breath was taken away, as it always was. She was beautiful, with long blonde hair that fell to her waist. Her skin was pale and flawless, her cheeks rosy from the cold. She appeared almost dainty. Fragile. William couldn't tear his eyes away.
He never could. For as long as William had been coming to the village he had seen her, and each time he saw the fair-haired maiden, his mouth dried up and a lump formed in his throat. Someday I'll speak with her, William promised himself. Someday I'll learn her name.
As he watched, the girl took the arm of an elderly lady and began steering the old woman through the crowd. William moved closer, wanting to get a better glimpse of this beauty, but found himself cut off as a crowd of people surged past.
Finally, he managed to break through the crowd, but the girl was nowhere to be seen. Saddened, William kept moving along the street until he came upon a street magician.
William scoffed. This was no wizard—the man had no real power—but he was good at his craft, and the crowd was entertained. Trying to decide where to go next, William looked over the crowd. There was the girl, standing close by, also watching the magician. William's heart skipped a beat
William edged slowly toward the girl, unsure if he would speak to her or just bask in her presence. As he neared, the crowd hushed.
No doubt the magician is preparing his final trick, William thought.
Suddenly a child screamed, then a second and a third. William jerked his head around, and was terrified to see a dragon flying above the village square. It was blood red, and steam billowed from its nostrils as it soared through the gray skies.
"Run!" William screamed, but the crowd seemed transfixed by the beast. It circled overhead, gradually sinking lower and lower until it seemed to William that he could reach out and touch it. Then he realized it was heading straight for the girl, who seemed frozen in place.
Without a thought, William threw himself in front of the girl, even though he knew his skinny frame could never protect her from a dragon attack. He looked for some sort of weapon, but saw only a muddy garden hoe. It would have to do. Brandishing the tool by the handle he waved it in front of the dragon, but still the beast grew closer.
As it hovered directly overhead, William gave a strangled yell and thrust the sharp end of the hoe up into the soft underbelly of the beast with all his might. The crowd grew silent. William was scarcely able to breath, thrusting again and again until the dragon seemed to deflate and promptly fell to the ground. William exhaled heavily, nervous sweat pouring out over his forehead.
He looked down, noticing for the first time the dragon looked... flat. Confused, William poked at the dead animal with the hoe.
It was paper!
All around him, people whispered and pointed and laughed at the red-faced William, who was still holding the garden hoe protectively at arm's length. He looked at the girl, standing beside him. A small smile playing over her face.
"The magician," she said softly. "It was his trick."
Her voice! William was in love with the sound of her voice. So enamored was William that it took a moment for her words to register, but their meaning was quickly clear as the crowd parted, letting through an angry little man. His face was as red as the dragon.
"What have you done?" the magician yelled at William, pointing to the ground. "You've ruined it! You fool!"
William shrugged helplessly.
"I didn't know," he said. The magician glared in disbelief before turning and stalking away.
"Don't move," he threatened over his shoulder. "I'm going to get one of the king's guards."
William prepared to bolt, but a tiny hand caught the sleeve of his tunic.
"Thank you," the girl said quietly. "That was brave."
"But it was paper," William said. He had never felt so foolish.
"You didn't know, and you fought to protect me. A lady is forever grateful to her brave knight," she said, blushing slightly, and stood on tiptoes to plant a soft kiss on William's cheek. "Thank you."
William stood, nearly speechless, embarrassed at the sudden attention.
"I... I'm William," he finally blurted.
"I am Celeste," the girl answered. The two stood there, staring into each other's eyes, unaware of anything around them.
William found himself, almost without thought, leaning toward the girl. Her eyes widened a bit as she realized his intent before she too moved to meet William. Their lips met in a kiss, sending little tremors of pleasure up and down William's spine. Her lips were so soft as they moved against his. He reached out, pulling the girl against him. Her softness pressed delightfully against him. She moaned into his mouth as he ran his fingers over the back of her neck.
Suddenly, they were interrupted.
"There he is! That's the man!" the magician yelled, pulling a guard behind him. "Arrest him!"
William pulled away, feeling dazed and a bit unsteady. The kiss had been... powerful. The girl looked as if she felt the same. Celeste gave William one more quick kiss before putting her hands in the middle of his chest and pushing him away.
"You'd better go," she offered with a giggle, before stepping in front of the guards' path to block their progress. She looked back at him, urging him on with her eyes. "Run!" she said.
"Get out! All of you! Out!" the Ice Queen screamed at her servants, who went scurrying from her private chambers. Miranda was beyond outrage. Ten years it had been, and all her efforts to get rid of the weakling king had so far failed. Her desire for power was becoming all-consuming.
When the noise and activity from her servants finally ceased, Miranda walked to a cabinet, temporarily unbinding her spell with a wave of her hand. The cabinet was empty, but for a single, shallow bowl. Reaching in, Miranda gently cradled the dish in her arms and carried it to a low, wooden table.
After wiping the bowl clean of any dirt or dust so that it shone in the dim candlelight, Miranda reached for a pitcher filled to the brim with pure spring water. Careful not to spill a single drop—for the power of the spell demanded an exact amount be used—Miranda filled the bowl.
As always when she performed a seeing, the pitcher appeared too full, the bowl not large enough. Miranda poured until the pitcher was empty and the bowl nearly overflowed. Now began the waiting, for the spell demanded complete stillness. Miranda stood, scarcely daring to breathe, while the water settled. The room, Miranda, the bowl, and the water itself must all be perfectly still.
After many minutes, Miranda approached the bowl, gathering her robes tightly to avoid any accidental touches with the water. Any disturbance now and the spell would be broken. Leaning down so that her face was but a hairs' breadth away from the surface of the water, Miranda began chanting.
She watched, entranced as always at the way the water ebbed and flowed from just a gentle breath, but knew the bowl was acting on its own, now. A faint glow seemed to come from just under the surface of the water. It was ready.
"The king," she hissed. "Show me the king." The water seemed to quiver for a moment before suddenly freezing in place. Just below the surface of the water, an image seemed to flow in, becoming more and more clear until the bowl became a window into the king's chamber.
Miranda watched as the king—sickly and feeble—lay in his bed, surrounded by his advisors and guards. As always, she looked for signs of weakness around the king but there were none. He had an army ready to defend him, and Miranda knew her own magic would be useless against so much steel and brawn. No—she would have to wait for him to die on his own, and make her play for power then.
With a wave of her hand, the view of the king flowed away. After a moment, the water snapped back into place, ready for Miranda's next request.
"The wizard," Miranda intoned. The wizard had no name, or at least none she'd ever heard. He was always just "The Wizard." Rumor had that he had come to the kingdom from across the sea. Some said he had arrived one hundred years ago, some said a thousand. Nevertheless, Miranda knew the wizard was her only hope to overthrow the king before his death. If he would not aid her in her quest for power, he would die. If she could find him.
Miranda knew the wizard had not vanished, although that clearly was his wish. No, the wizard was out there—somewhere—still protecting the king. His spells were everywhere, annoying and effective, making Miranda's attempts to seize power more and more difficult every day.
"The wizard," Miranda said again. She sighed in frustration. The bowl—as with every attempt to locate the wizard—revealed nothing of the wizard's whereabouts.
"Show me his son," Miranda requested. "The wizard's son." She expected to see nothing, and was surprised, then outraged, to find the boy, much older than she remembered, in the village! Miranda even knew the place. He was standing there talking to a girl. Suddenly the boy turned and began to run—someone was chasing after him.
Miranda was incensed. The boy was there for the taking but, as she watched, the skinny youth vaulted over a horse cart and into an alley, eluding the king's oafish guard who slipped on a patch of ice and fell flat on his face.
It wasn't until William turned to run, however, that Miranda saw the face of the girl he'd been talking to. It was Celeste, the Ice Queen's own daughter!
Her anger boiled over and she splashed her hand down into the water. A few drops spilled over the edge. The glow from inside the bowl immediately winked out, and Miranda was once again alone.
Why did I have to make such a fool of myself? William wondered as he trudged through the forest, leaving only momentary footprints in the snow. Thanks to one of his father's spells, any tracks he made were almost instantly gone.
Celeste. Celeste was her name, and she was beautiful. But she must think I'm a fool!
After escaping from the king's guard, William had taken a long path home, not wanting to risk being followed. Suddenly he heard the distant sound of barking, and a chill went through his body. The dogs were loose again. William heard them through the forest. At the sound of their frantic barking and growling—closer than he'd thought at first—his heart started beating faster, and he quickened his pace.
As the dogs neared, William's long strides turned to a jog and finally into a full run. He scaled a small hill, slipping in the snow, and almost tumbled to the ground. William grabbed hold of a small sapling for support and prepared to run again. The cottage was close. Suddenly the dogs were on him.
"You, boy! Stop your running!"
William looked over his shoulder, and saw one of the king's guards pointing his direction.
"Me?" The man nodded and moved closer. William forced himself to stand still, shaking a bit under the watchful eyes and frothing mouths of the guard dogs that now circled him. William stood—frozen in place—until the guard was standing directly in front of him. The man—out of shape and out of breath—leaned down, staring William in the eye.
"Where were you going, boy?" he wheezed, pushing a meaty finger into William's chest. This was a different guard from the one chasing him in the village, and William felt a chill pass through him. Had they followed him? Had they found his father? Was he to be put to death?
"I'm not a boy." His voice quivered, much shakier than he would have liked.
"What are you, then?" the guard asked.
"I'm a man." William had recently come of age but was slight of build, much to his disappointment. He was forever being dismissed as younger than he truly was.
"Impossible," the guard laughed. "I see no man's growth on your chin. You must be a woman."
William bit his tongue, angry as always at his father's refusal to teach him any spells. If only he could learn just one, William though. If any man deserved to choke to death on his own black tongue, it was this guard.
But William's father didn't feel it appropriate for his son to learn spells or potions.
"They're not for you to learn," he said when asked. "Wizarding is my job. Yours is to grow older and wiser."
But that didn't stop him from wishing some sort of ill to befall upon the guard. Perhaps a dragon—a real one this time—would swoop down from the sky and haul the man's fat carcass away. William glared, but said nothing. The guard sensed the boy's anger, and his hand moved to the hilt of his sword as he backed up a step. His eyes were wary and suspicious.
"Where were you going?" he repeated. "This is the king's land. You're trespassing."
"I was going home to my father," William answered carefully. He glanced behind him. He had made it to within ten paces of home. Ten paces to freedom from the prying, bloodshot eyes of the fat guard.
"Home? What home?" the guard asked, peering behind William into the darkness. The guard could see nothing, William knew. The wizard's spells guaranteed that only William and the wizard could see the cottage.
The only reason the guard had made it this close, William knew, was because William himself had led him here. People traveling unescorted through the forest found themselves unknowingly taking a wide arc around the cottage, forever walking in circles around it.
William blanched at his foolish error. He had almost given away their secret location! Wanting to distract the guard, and hopeful his father would sense the disturbance outside in the clearing, William reached down—slowly and deliberately—and picked up his leather satchel. With the guard's watchful eye on him, William stood and held it out to the guard.
"Speak, boy. What were you doing?"
"I was... I was running an errand for my father. I was to pick something up for him in the village."
"I don't know." William shrugged his shoulders helplessly. He'd been too rushed to try the apothecary once more, and William wouldn't have known the contents of the package even if he had. His father often sent William on errands, but had threatened his son with painful boils that oozed pus and blood should he ever look inside.
"Fetching packages for daddy, are you?" the guard laughed. "Hand it over, boy, before you lose a finger. Or worse." The guard brandished his sword in front of him, grinning a gap-toothed smile as he advanced on the trembling boy.
"But I don't have any package," William stammered. Suddenly a flash of light burst out from behind William. At once, the guard fell to the ground, his sword ripped from his grip. He writhed in agony, releasing a high-pitched scream as he clutched at his sword hand. Or rather, where the hand would have been, had it still been attached to his wrist. William looked around, but saw only the shattered remains of the broken sword. The hand was nowhere—it had simply ceased to exist, leaving behind nothing but a bloody stump.
"Leave us," came a low voice. William turned at the voice of his father and almost burst into laughter. The mighty wizard, shrouded by the power of the spell, stood in the doorway, wearing nothing but a nightshirt and slippers. He was holding a mug of steaming brew in his hand, all the while shaking his head in disappointment at his son.
But the guard saw something entirely different. To him, the wizard appeared monstrous—ten feet tall and with eyes as red as blood and teeth as sharp as knives. The guard, still holding his injured arm to his side, took one last glance at the apparition and took flight. William knew the man—once he had been attended to—would tell the queen, who would demand a search be made of the forest, but he also knew there once the guard was gone there was no chance of being found. He would never be able to find this part of the forest again.
When the guard had fled down the hill and out of sight, William turned to the house, knowing he was due a tongue-lashing.
"You let him get away?" Miranda screamed, her face inches from the guard's trembling face.
"I'm sorry, milady," the guard stammered, cowering before the Ice Queen. He shook uncontrollably. The Queen looked at the guard, who shrank back as much as he was able from her furious gaze.
"What happened?" she hissed, leaning forward once more.
"I... I don't know. One moment the boy was walking through the forest and the next... the next minute he's gone and I'm left with this." The guard didn't feel the need to mention the demon he had seen appear out of nowhere—the demon responsible for his missing hand. He knew he wouldn't be believed. The guard held up his bloody arm. The stump had been hastily wrapped, but the injury still throbbed with pain and the bandage was soaked through with his blood.
"You fool!" the Queen screamed. "I need that boy to lead me to his father!"
The guard trembled, wondering exactly who the son and father were.
"We have nothing!" Miranda continued, ignoring the guard, who was now down on his knees, begging for his life. "Nothing!" She motioned to one of her private guards, who snapped to attention at her signal. "Take him away."
Her guard roughly grabbed the injured man—still blubbering incoherently— and dragged him away while Miranda fought the urge to scream out her frustrations once again. How could she ever ascend to her throne, when these... these imbeciles around her were unable to perform a simple task?
Watch for the wizard's son. Follow him. Report where he lives. Such a simple task, and yet once more a complete and utter failure. Even a child should be able to do this, she thought.
Miranda snapped her fingers and a servant stepped out of the shadows.
"Yes, milady?" he asked, bowing deeply at the waist. "How may I serve you?"
"Bring me a boy," she said.
Celeste was almost in a daze as she walked through the village and toward her home. He kissed me! Celeste had long been enamored with William, although she hadn't known his name before today, but had given up hope of ever talking to the strange, skinny boy she saw in the village.
He finally kissed me! She hoped she would see him again.
Celeste realized she was almost home. She was startled as she was nearly knocked to the ground as a man rushed through the front door, screaming in agony. His arm was dripping blood, leaving a crimson trail behind him in the snow. Celeste stepped carefully over the red droplets, not wanting to stain her dress. She arrived at her mother's door, surprised to see the trail of blood continued inside.
What had her mother done now? Celeste fought the urge to scream. Why couldn't her mother have been a seamstress or midwife? Why did her mother have to be such a... well, Celeste didn't like to say what she thought. Like everyone else, she lived in fear of her.
Seeing her mother in deep conversation with one of the village children, Celeste paused in the doorway and listened. Their words were hushed, but Celeste heard enough to hear her mother say to the child, "Look everywhere for him. I know he's in the woods somewhere. And when you find him, mark the way!"
The boy seemed nervous, but nodded vigorously. He understood. He would find the person she was seeking.
After a moment the boy also ran from the room, leaving Celeste's mother alone with one of her servants.
"Let the guards know," she told him. "When the little runt finds the wizard and his son, bring them to me. I'll kill them myself."
Celeste's eyes grew large when she heard her mother's words. Someone would die because her mother wished it.
"Hello?" she said nervously, poking her head into her mother's room. Furious at the intrusion, Miranda turned and screamed at her daughter.
"Out!" she yelled. "Leave me alone!" Celeste backed away from the doorway and went to her room.
It was a moment before Miranda realized it had been Celeste, and she quickly called after her, but Celeste was scared, and refused to come out. It was easy to see why so many people called her mother the Ice Queen.
"What were you thinking?" the wizard asked once the guard had gone. William lowered his head, unable to look his father in the eye, ashamed of the danger he'd nearly brought to his home.
"I'm sorry. It... it got dark much quicker than I expected and... and there was... a long wait before I could get your package," he stammered, fearful of revealing exactly why he'd been late.
His blatant lie was met with a moment of silence before his father chuckled lightly. It was obvious there had been no long wait, just as there was no package.
"Who is she?"
"What?" William looked up at his father, surprised to see a glint of humor in the older man's eyes.
"Who's the girl?"
"I... I don't know what you're talking about," he stammered.
"Come now. You're not normally so foolish as to lead one of the king's guards so close."
"She was beautiful!" blurted William, surprised at his outburst. Had his father put some sort of truth spell on him? He glanced up at his father who shook his head, as if reading William's mind.
"She was beautiful."
The wizard laughed, long and loud, at that. He was old, older even than his son knew, and had loved many women over what seemed many lifetimes, and yet... nothing changed.
"Go to bed," he said. "It's late. I'm sure you can think about your beauty while you sleep."
"Yes, Father." William hurried to his room. His thoughts—as his father knew they would—focused solely on Celeste.
Celeste woke early the next morning, before the sun had fully risen. Slipping past her mother's guards, she hurried through the kitchen, grabbing a small loaf of bread and a hunk of cheese on her way out the door. Outside was quiet. Her footfalls were muffled by a new blanket of snow, and she had no trouble reaching the edge of the village, and then the forest, without being seen.
Her task was clear. Find the boy. She knew—somehow—that the two of them were meant to be together. There was no doubt in her mind. She shivered at the realization of what she was saying, but she trusted her intuition. The gangly, wide-eyed boy was drawn to her, and she to him, and Celeste intended to find out what magic he might have, what spells he might have cast over her. She had never been in love before, and rather liked the feeling.
Reaching the edge of the forest, Celeste looked over her shoulder. The world was still asleep and shrouded in a veil of mist and fog. With one last glance—satisfied she had slipped out of the village undetected—Celeste walked into the fog and disappeared into the trees.
The boy had gone this way, she knew, so she would follow, and she would find him.
She didn't notice that she was being followed.
As a thin beam of pale yellow sunlight streamed in through the bedroom window, William yawned, stretching his arms out over his head. He had not slept well, being preoccupied with thoughts of the beauty he had seen the day before, and when sleep had at last come to him, his dreams had been filled with her as well. Those had been a bit more... pleasant, he had to admit, as evidenced by the stains on his bedding.
Quickly, he stripped off his nightclothes and into his trousers and a heavy tunic. The calendar showed it was summer but, because of the Ice Queen, that was certainly not the case. While the daytime hours—on occasion—could be almost bearable, mornings were especially frigid.
Being careful not to make too much noise, William opened the door to the cottage. He was confident that he could leave undetected. Of course his father would know his whereabouts—even without the aid of his magic the wizard seemed always to know where his son was—but no other human eye would be looking at this particular bare patch of forest, he was certain.
Walking a few hundred feet away, William began thinking once again of the girl from the day before. Who was she? Where did she live? These were two of a myriad of questions he had. With little conscious thought, William found himself walking to his favorite spot in the forest—a hot water spring that never froze over. Even with snow on the ground, the warm water would feel wonderful.
As he reached the canopied clearing, he was surprised to see the girl, Celeste. What was she doing in the forest?
She was standing at the edge of a pool of water with her back to him. William was surprised to see another human so deep in the woods, much less someone he had seen so recently. And, as he watched, Celeste dropped her robe and stepped into the pool at the bottom of the falls. She was exquisite—her skin was a pale, flawless ivory marked only by the two pink nipples at the tips of her breasts and the tangle of curls between her legs.
As William watched from the bushes, she began to bathe, scooping up handfuls of warm water and pouring them down on herself. William was entranced by the trickle of water as dripped down her body, between the firm cheeks of her buttocks and finally down her legs and back into the pool, where it was once more scooped up to begin another journey. This time the path led the water down her chest, between her breasts and over her rounded belly, before splashing between her thighs and wetting her thatch of pubic hair.
William found that he was hard under his tunic—his prick was thick and full as he stared at the girl's naked body. He was entranced by her beauty and scarcely aware of the cold from the snow and ice that seeped in between the seams of his clothing as he stood there. He fought the urge to pleasure himself as he watched this... this mysterious goddess, this Celeste.
Finally, she was finished, and walked quickly out of the pond to her robes. Water and steam cascaded off her body as she stood in a patch of sunlight. Once she had dried, she found a rock and sat, braiding her long hair. William was almost certain he caught her looking in his direction. Had she seen him? Should he say something? She would know he had watched her.
Taking a deep breath, William moved out of the bushes and into the clearing.
"I've been waiting for you," she said.
"Is she gone?" Miranda asked a guard, looking out past the edge of the village and into the forest. The guard nodded. Knowing well that any guards following behind her daughter would soon be spotted, a young boy—no more than ten or eleven years of age—had been called into service. He was to lag behind Celeste, following her wherever she went. Never so close as to be noticed, but always within eyesight.
Miranda knew the wizard and his son were out there somewhere, and all the signs pointed to her daughter being the key to finding them. First Miranda had seen Celeste talking to the wizard's son, and now her daughter was sneaking away early in the morning, and heading in the same direction the son had taken to escape the king's guards.
She gave explicit instructions to her guard. Wait at the edge of the forest. Let the boy find the girl and come back for you. He'll lead you to the girl, who will undoubtedly lead you to the boy and then to the father. The wizard must be kept alive—that was most important. What happened to the others was of little concern to Miranda.
The guard seemed surprised the Ice Queen was willing to sacrifice her own flesh and blood, but kept his tongue.
This would destroy her daughter, Miranda knew, but it was of no consequence. Once the Ice Queen ascended the throne, any heirs would simply be targets for corruption and greed, and Miranda would not risk to easily losing what she had fought for.
I've lived for a hundred years; I'll rule for a thousand. Miranda knew as soon as she was crowned, she would have no use for Celeste. It was a shame, in a way. Her daughter was beautiful and kind, generous and caring, but—as far as Miranda was concerned—three of those qualities were weaknesses, to be crushed underfoot, smothered like a cooking fire, never to burst into flames again.
Yes, her daughter would be dead soon enough. There was no other option, it was either Miranda or Celeste, and Miranda had no intention of dying anytime soon.
She noticed the guard still standing there.
"Go!" she screamed.
The girl spoke again. "I'm Celeste."
"I remember," William said. "I'm William."
The two stood facing each other, both at a loss for words. Finally, Celeste stepped closer, pressing herself against William. William began to pull away, fearful she might feel his still erect member pressing against her abdomen but, when she ground her hips against his own, he began to relax. Celeste put her hand on his chest, feeling the beating of his heart.
"I didn't get a chance to thank you properly, kind sir," she said. "You saved my life."
"I... it was only... paper..." but William was cut off as Celeste leaned forward, pressing her mouth to his. Any thoughts of protesting his foolishness vanished the moment their lips met. Her mouth was soft, sweeter than he would have imagined, and when her lips parted, William followed suit, allowing her tongue to dart in and out of his mouth.
When Celeste stepped back, she had a look in her eyes that William couldn't read.
"What?" he stammered, but her intentions quickly became clear. Reaching down, Celeste grabbed at the hem of her garment and, with a quick tug, pulled it up and over her head. She was completely nude underneath, and still a bit damp from her bath. Tiny droplets of water clung to the bush of hair between her legs. Celeste shivered when the cold air hit her skin, and she pressed herself close to William.
"Touch me," she said. This time William was less nervous, allowing his hands to roam down the smooth expanse of her back, going so far as to cup the firm mounds of her buttocks. They were firm, soft and muscular and, as he fondled her, Celeste moaned into his mouth, and pressed her breasts more tightly against his chest. She hissed in pleasure as her nipples scraped against the rough fabric of his cloak.
While one hand toyed with the hair on the back of his neck, Celeste slid the other down the front of his tunic. Reaching his waist, she slipped her hand inside the folds of his clothing and, reaching lower, quickly came into contact with the proof of his arousal.
It was William's turn to gasp as her hand wrapped around his erection, both from the shock of it and from her cold fingers. He felt light headed as she stroked him, and he worried that his excitement and nervousness might lead to a quick end. As William began to feel his passion begin to boil over, he was relieved to feel Celeste release her grip on him. His respite was short, however, as the girl jerked roughly on his tunic, baring his chest to the open air. Her fingers felt like tiny, hot pokers, fresh from the fire, as they moved against his skin.
But the arousal William felt was nothing like the sensation when Celeste released the tie on his trousers. They fell around his ankles and pooled on the ground. His cock bobbed up and down in the air.
"It's beautiful," she cooed, again wrapping her fingers around his shaft. William threw his head back, fighting hard to avoid a quick orgasm. His rod jerked in her grip when she leaned down and kissed its purple tip.
"Oh, gods," he moaned, his hips flexing as he felt her hot breath on his member. He'd never felt so pleasantly hard in his life, and her soft lips against his flesh almost brought him over the edge.
Celeste giggled, kissing up and down his length, her touch feathery light on his sensitive skin. Grinning lustily, she opened her mouth, her wet, pink tongue darting out to bathe William's prick with her saliva. With a jerk, William felt an all-too-familiar sensation boiling up from his groin and he quickly pulled away.
"Stop. Stop!" he gasped, putting a hand on her shoulder. Celeste looked up at him, a puzzled expression on her face.
"Didn't you like it?" she asked.
"Too much," he confessed. "I liked it too much. I was almost ready to..."
"Should I stop? I thought you would want your release." Celeste looked confused, but her distress quickly turned to arousal as William pushed her to her back, making sure she was on their clothes and not the frozen ground, and positioned himself between her thighs. Her cunt mound was dripping with her juices, and her outer lips were puffy and red with arousal.
"We can do that later," William said. He trailed his fingers through her curls of pubic hair. Her pelt was soft—much smoother than his own coarse hair—and his mouth watered as he imagined pushing his tongue through her damp curls. "There's something I want to do first." As he leaned forward, Celeste caught him by the hair.
"You don't have to," she warned, conflicted at the thought of what William was about to do. She was aroused, but thought William might be disgusted at the act.
"I'm going to do it," he said, licking his lips in anticipation, "and I'm going to enjoy it."
"Yes," Celeste said, releasing her grip on his hair and guiding him to her slick opening, "then I shall enjoy it also."
William extended his tongue, gliding along the inside of Celeste's muscular thighs. Her muscles twitched at the contact and her legs clamped down around William's neck, trapping him against her pussy. She was wildly aroused and her musky scent permeated the outdoors. William imagined he could see steam rising up from her pussy into the cool morning air.
"Oh, yes," she hissed as she felt his tongue begin to bathe her hot flesh. William had gradually moved closer and closer to her opening, never quite penetrating her, but his tongue was like fire as it licked up one side of her pussy and down the other.
"You like this?" he grinned up from between her thighs, his face already coated with her juices. Celeste nodded frantically in approval, not wanting him to stop his ministrations.
"Yes, now hurry!" she pleaded, once more pulling his face against her wet center. Her moans grew higher and higher as William abandoned all teasing and his tongue pushed as deeply into her slick tunnel as he was able. Reaching his hands underneath Celeste's squirming body, William grabbed hold of her firm buttocks and pulled her tightly against his face, deepening the contact.
His mouth seemed to be everywhere at once. First licking at her opening, lapping up her sticky juices, then at the top of her slit, paying careful attention to her pleasure button before kissing all over the matted hair covering her mound.
Celeste was in ecstasy and, as her pleasure built, she ran her hands up and down her sides and down the outside of her thighs before returning to her chest. Her hardened nipples were two bright pink pebbles atop the soft white mounds of her breasts. She tugged roughly at them as the sensations of her own hands, coupled with William's ever-probing tongue, pushed her over the edge.
"Aiyeeee!" she screamed as her pleasure crested in wave after wave. Her tummy trembled and her thighs shook as her pussy began to spasm in orgasm.
William continued through the climax, his licking and nibbling becoming less and less frantic. He lightened his strokes as Celeste panted above him, her breathing slowly returning to normal. Finally, she let out a small shudder and her hands returned to his head, not to push him away, but gently stroking his hair.
"Thank you," she whispered. "No one... no one has ever done that for me."
"It was my pleasure."
"I see that." Celeste giggled, her eyes looking pointedly at William's groin, where his erection jutted proudly outward. "Let me take care of that," she said, reaching out to caress his rod.
"Wait." William had been ready to surrender himself fully to her gentle touches, when a faint sound caught his attention.
"Quiet," William hissed, his senses on edge. "We're being watched. Were you followed?"
"In the bushes, on the other side of the pond." William saw the glint of sunlight reflecting off something shiny. "There are two of them."
Two of the Ice Queen's guards burst from the undergrowth, shouting and gesturing to William and Celeste, who reacted in shock at seeing the heavily armed men in their black armor.
"Mother's guards!" she blurted.
"Run!" Celeste shouted, grabbing William by the wrist. He had barely enough time to grab his tunic before a frightened Celeste pulled him to his feet and dragged him into the forest. Her garments were left behind.
"Where are we going?" William asked. Celeste didn't answer but kept running doggedly ahead.
Through the trees the two ran, frantically trying to keep ahead of the larger, slower, but more heavily armed soldiers. Over an icy stream and through a patch of frozen foliage until at last Celeste pulled up short, bent over at the waist to catch her breath. William cringed as he looked at the girl, her skin marked and marred as leaves and thorns had pricked and torn at her flesh.
"Are you all right?" he asked, listening with one ear for the snapping of branches that would signal the arrival of their assailants. The girl nodded breathlessly. She looked up at William, her emotions raw on her face.
"Who are you?" she asked. "Why does my mother want with you?"
The wizard paused, his morning meal forgotten. He had felt something, he was sure of it. Something he'd hoped never to feel again. It worried him. Abandoning his food, the wizened old man quickly strode to his cabinet. Unlocking it with a wave of his hand, he began pulling out vials of chemicals and herbs.
She was out there somewhere. Closer than she'd been during his time of hiding. Even as he worked, he could feel her presence moving ever closer.
The wizard's hands shook as he assembled his tools on the worktable in front of him. What was he feeling? It was something unfamiliar. His heart was racing, and there was a thin sheen of sweat on his forehead. The wizard reached up and cleared the perspiration from his face. He took a breath, trying to understand this emotion, for only when he had understood what this emotion was could he combat it.
With a shock, the wizard realized his hands were shaking and his pulse was almost pounding in his temples. He forced himself to slow his breathing, realizing exactly what he was experiencing. The realization did not make him happy. He knew the emotion.
It was fear.