The Slow Freeze
draculard
Summary:
Gerda's power lies in her innocent heart.
The Snow Queen will simply take that as well.
Later, Gerda can’t stop shivering.
She lays on a mattress stuffed with hay, animal skins and old quilts pulled tight around her in a nest, and still she can’t stop shivering. She can see each breath hovering before her like a little cloud. The air in this room seems fresh, impossibly cold, alpine — she pulls in another breath and feels frost nipping at her lungs, coating her throat with ice.
If she went to the mirror and used a scalpel to part the skin over her chest, she knows what she would see. Blood thick and dark and cold like the slush left behind when too many carts trample the same patch of snow. Ribs slick as icicles. A frozen heart, ice creaking every time it manages another impossibly slow beat.
Gerda puts her palms against the silvered glass and kisses her reflection.
“I don’t want to be cold anymore,” she whispers.
She sees something glimmering in her reflection’s eyes.
What she always intended to do was save Kai. That’s all that mattered to her. She would have done anything, she tells herself — anything, so long as she didn’t hurt anybody.
And what the Snow Queen asked of her — well, that wasn’t hurting anybody, was it?
It felt good. Gerda had never felt another person’s lips against her skin before; she’d never realized how sensitive she was, how starved. At the first cold touch of the Snow Queen’s skin against hers—
Her hands trailing on the underside of Gerda’s undeveloped breasts, her finger
s at Kai and thinks he seems much
smaller than herself these days, much younger. She looks in the mirror
and sees her cold, hard eyes, her sharp new smile, the fox-like, knowing
slant to her face.She lays on a mattress stuffed with hay, animal skins and old quilts pulled tight around her in a nest, and still she can’t stop shivering. She can see each breath hovering before her like a little cloud. The air in this room seems fresh, impossibly cold, alpine — she pulls in another breath and feels frost nipping at her lungs, coating her throat with ice.
If she went to the mirror and used a scalpel to part the skin over her chest, she knows what she would see. Blood thick and dark and cold like the slush left behind when too many carts trample the same patch of snow. Ribs slick as icicles. A frozen heart, ice creaking every time it manages another impossibly slow beat.
Gerda puts her palms against the silvered glass and kisses her reflection.
“I don’t want to be cold anymore,” she whispers.
She sees something glimmering in her reflection’s eyes.
What she always intended to do was save Kai. That’s all that mattered to her. She would have done anything, she tells herself — anything, so long as she didn’t hurt anybody.
And what the Snow Queen asked of her — well, that wasn’t hurting anybody, was it?
It felt good. Gerda had never felt another person’s lips against her skin before; she’d never realized how sensitive she was, how starved. At the first cold touch of the Snow Queen’s skin against hers—
Her hands trailing on the underside of Gerda’s undeveloped breasts, her finger
The Slow Freeze
draculard
Summary:
Gerda's power lies in her innocent heart.
The Snow Queen will simply take that as well.
Later, Gerda can’t stop shivering.
She lays on a mattress stuffed with hay, animal skins and old quilts pulled tight around her in a nest, and still she can’t stop shivering. She can see each breath hovering before her like a little cloud. The air in this room seems fresh, impossibly cold, alpine — she pulls in another breath and feels frost nipping at her lungs, coating her throat with ice.
If she went to the mirror and used a scalpel to part the skin over her chest, she knows what she would see. Blood thick and dark and cold like the slush left behind when too many carts trample the same patch of snow. Ribs slick as icicles. A frozen heart, ice creaking every time it manages another impossibly slow beat.
Gerda puts her palms against the silvered glass and kisses her reflection.
“I don’t want to be cold anymore,” she whispers.
She sees something glimmering in her reflection’s eyes.
What she always intended to do was save Kai. That’s all that mattered to her. She would have done anything, she tells herself — anything, so long as she didn’t hurt anybody.
And what the Snow Queen asked of her — well, that wasn’t hurting anybody, was it?
It felt good. Gerda had never felt another person’s lips against her skin before; she’d never realized how sensitive she was, how starved. At the first cold touch of the Snow Queen’s skin against hers—
Her hands trailing on the underside of Gerda’s undeveloped breasts, her fingers brushing Gerda’s nipples, making them stand erect and flushed.
Her teeth on Gerda’s neck, the pain sharp and thick and just barely tenable, making her skin change color; first pink, then swollen red, then blue.
Her lips on Gerda’s inner thigh, so soft that she can barely feel it.
Her tongue in a place Gerda’s never been touched before.
And with every touch, Gerda gets the most peculiar sensation — the feeling of another person’s hot body against hers, of a warm tongue pressed down against her clit, followed by an almost unpleasant cold.
A coldness which feels like electricity sparking up and down her spine.
A coldness which makes her arch her back and moan.
There’s nothing Gerda has to do to win this fight, because there’s no fight to be won. All she has to do is lay back and let the Snow Queen bring her the most intense pleasure Gerda has ever known.
After so long searching for Kai, it feels unfamiliar not to fight, not to struggle, not to feel hungry and exhausted and bone-cold.
Strangely, in this last and most important encounter with the Snow Queen, Gerda just feels good.
Later, when she and Kai have returned home, when all is well, when Gerda can’t stop shivering, she looks at Kai and thinks he seems much smaller than herself these days, much younger. She looks in the mirror and sees her cold, hard eyes, her sharp new smile, the fox-like, knowing slant to her face.
She wonders if perhaps the Snow Queen found a way to hurt her after all.
She lays on a mattress stuffed with hay, animal skins and old quilts pulled tight around her in a nest, and still she can’t stop shivering. She can see each breath hovering before her like a little cloud. The air in this room seems fresh, impossibly cold, alpine — she pulls in another breath and feels frost nipping at her lungs, coating her throat with ice.
If she went to the mirror and used a scalpel to part the skin over her chest, she knows what she would see. Blood thick and dark and cold like the slush left behind when too many carts trample the same patch of snow. Ribs slick as icicles. A frozen heart, ice creaking every time it manages another impossibly slow beat.
Gerda puts her palms against the silvered glass and kisses her reflection.
“I don’t want to be cold anymore,” she whispers.
She sees something glimmering in her reflection’s eyes.
What she always intended to do was save Kai. That’s all that mattered to her. She would have done anything, she tells herself — anything, so long as she didn’t hurt anybody.
And what the Snow Queen asked of her — well, that wasn’t hurting anybody, was it?
It felt good. Gerda had never felt another person’s lips against her skin before; she’d never realized how sensitive she was, how starved. At the first cold touch of the Snow Queen’s skin against hers—
Her hands trailing on the underside of Gerda’s undeveloped breasts, her fingers brushing Gerda’s nipples, making them stand erect and flushed.
Her teeth on Gerda’s neck, the pain sharp and thick and just barely tenable, making her skin change color; first pink, then swollen red, then blue.
Her lips on Gerda’s inner thigh, so soft that she can barely feel it.
Her tongue in a place Gerda’s never been touched before.
And with every touch, Gerda gets the most peculiar sensation — the feeling of another person’s hot body against hers, of a warm tongue pressed down against her clit, followed by an almost unpleasant cold.
A coldness which feels like electricity sparking up and down her spine.
A coldness which makes her arch her back and moan.
There’s nothing Gerda has to do to win this fight, because there’s no fight to be won. All she has to do is lay back and let the Snow Queen bring her the most intense pleasure Gerda has ever known.
After so long searching for Kai, it feels unfamiliar not to fight, not to struggle, not to feel hungry and exhausted and bone-cold.
Strangely, in this last and most important encounter with the Snow Queen, Gerda just feels good.
Later, when she and Kai have returned home, when all is well, when Gerda can’t stop shivering, she looks at Kai and thinks he seems much smaller than herself these days, much younger. She looks in the mirror and sees her cold, hard eyes, her sharp new smile, the fox-like, knowing slant to her face.
She wonders if perhaps the Snow Queen found a way to hurt her after all.
She wonders if perhaps the Snow Queen found a way to hurt her after all.
Gerda's power lies in her innocent heart.
The Snow Queen will simply take that as well.
Later, Gerda can’t stop shivering.
She lays on a mattress stuffed with hay, animal skins and old quilts pulled tight around her in a nest, and still she can’t stop shivering. She can see each breath hovering before her like a little cloud. The air in this room seems fresh, impossibly cold, alpine — she pulls in another breath and feels frost nipping at her lungs, coating her throat with ice.
If she went to the mirror and used a scalpel to part the skin over her chest, she knows what she would see. Blood thick and dark and cold like the slush left behind when too many carts trample the same patch of snow. Ribs slick as icicles. A frozen heart, ice creaking every time it manages another impossibly slow beat.
Gerda puts her palms against the silvered glass and kisses her reflection.
“I don’t want to be cold anymore,” she whispers.
She sees something glimmering in her reflection’s eyes.
What she always intended to do was save Kai. That’s all that mattered to her. She would have done anything, she tells herself — anything, so long as she didn’t hurt anybody.
And what the Snow Queen asked of her — well, that wasn’t hurting anybody, was it?
It felt good. Gerda had never felt another person’s lips against her skin before; she’d never realized how sensitive she was, how starved. At the first cold touch of the Snow Queen’s skin against hers—
Her hands trailing on the underside of Gerda’s undeveloped breasts, her finger
s brushing Gerda’s nipples, making them stand erect and flushed.
Her teeth on Gerda’s neck, the pain sharp and thick and just barely tenable, making her skin change color; first pink, then swollen red, then blue.
Her lips on Gerda’s inner thigh, so soft that she can barely feel it.
Her tongue in a place Gerda’s never been touched before.
And with every touch, Gerda gets the most peculiar sensation — the feeling of another person’s hot body against hers, of a warm tongue pressed down against her clit, followed by an almost unpleasant cold.
A coldness which feels like electricity sparking up and down her spine.
A coldness which makes her arch her back and moan.
There’s nothing Gerda has to do to win this fight, because there’s no fight to be won. All she has to do is lay back and let the Snow Queen bring her the most intense pleasure Gerda has ever known.
After so long searching for Kai, it feels unfamiliar not to fight, not to struggle, not to feel hungry and exhausted and bone-cold.
Strangely, in this last and most important encounter with the Snow Queen, Gerda just feels good.
Later, when she and Kai have returned home, when all is well, when Gerda can’t stop shivering, she looks at Kai and thinks he seems much smaller than herself these days, much younger. She looks in the mirror and sees her cold, hard eyes, her sharp new smile, the fox-like, knowing slant to her face.
She wonders if perhaps the Snow Queen found a way to hurt her after all.
She lays on a mattress stuffed with hay, animal skins and old quilts pulled tight around her in a nest, and still she can’t stop shivering. She can see each breath hovering before her like a little cloud. The air in this room seems fresh, impossibly cold, alpine — she pulls in another breath and feels frost nipping at her lungs, coating her throat with ice.
If she went to the mirror and used a scalpel to part the skin over her chest, she knows what she would see. Blood thick and dark and cold like the slush left behind when too many carts trample the same patch of snow. Ribs slick as icicles. A frozen heart, ice creaking every time it manages another impossibly slow beat.
Gerda puts her palms against the silvered glass and kisses her reflection.
“I don’t want to be cold anymore,” she whispers.
She sees something glimmering in her reflection’s eyes.
What she always intended to do was save Kai. That’s all that mattered to her. She would have done anything, she tells herself — anything, so long as she didn’t hurt anybody.
And what the Snow Queen asked of her — well, that wasn’t hurting anybody, was it?
It felt good. Gerda had never felt another person’s lips against her skin before; she’d never realized how sensitive she was, how starved. At the first cold touch of the Snow Queen’s skin against hers—
Her hands trailing on the underside of Gerda’s undeveloped breasts, her finger
The Slow Freeze
draculard
Summary:
Gerda's power lies in her innocent heart.
The Snow Queen will simply take that as well.
Later, Gerda can’t stop shivering.
She lays on a mattress stuffed with hay, animal skins and old quilts pulled tight around her in a nest, and still she can’t stop shivering. She can see each breath hovering before her like a little cloud. The air in this room seems fresh, impossibly cold, alpine — she pulls in another breath and feels frost nipping at her lungs, coating her throat with ice.
If she went to the mirror and used a scalpel to part the skin over her chest, she knows what she would see. Blood thick and dark and cold like the slush left behind when too many carts trample the same patch of snow. Ribs slick as icicles. A frozen heart, ice creaking every time it manages another impossibly slow beat.
Gerda puts her palms against the silvered glass and kisses her reflection.
“I don’t want to be cold anymore,” she whispers.
She sees something glimmering in her reflection’s eyes.
What she always intended to do was save Kai. That’s all that mattered to her. She would have done anything, she tells herself — anything, so long as she didn’t hurt anybody.
And what the Snow Queen asked of her — well, that wasn’t hurting anybody, was it?
It felt good. Gerda had never felt another person’s lips against her skin before; she’d never realized how sensitive she was, how starved. At the first cold touch of the Snow Queen’s skin against hers—
Her hands trailing on the underside of Gerda’s undeveloped breasts, her fingers brushing Gerda’s nipples, making them stand erect and flushed.
Her teeth on Gerda’s neck, the pain sharp and thick and just barely tenable, making her skin change color; first pink, then swollen red, then blue.
Her lips on Gerda’s inner thigh, so soft that she can barely feel it.
Her tongue in a place Gerda’s never been touched before.
And with every touch, Gerda gets the most peculiar sensation — the feeling of another person’s hot body against hers, of a warm tongue pressed down against her clit, followed by an almost unpleasant cold.
A coldness which feels like electricity sparking up and down her spine.
A coldness which makes her arch her back and moan.
There’s nothing Gerda has to do to win this fight, because there’s no fight to be won. All she has to do is lay back and let the Snow Queen bring her the most intense pleasure Gerda has ever known.
After so long searching for Kai, it feels unfamiliar not to fight, not to struggle, not to feel hungry and exhausted and bone-cold.
Strangely, in this last and most important encounter with the Snow Queen, Gerda just feels good.
Later, when she and Kai have returned home, when all is well, when Gerda can’t stop shivering, she looks at Kai and thinks he seems much smaller than herself these days, much younger. She looks in the mirror and sees her cold, hard eyes, her sharp new smile, the fox-like, knowing slant to her face.
She wonders if perhaps the Snow Queen found a way to hurt her after all.
She lays on a mattress stuffed with hay, animal skins and old quilts pulled tight around her in a nest, and still she can’t stop shivering. She can see each breath hovering before her like a little cloud. The air in this room seems fresh, impossibly cold, alpine — she pulls in another breath and feels frost nipping at her lungs, coating her throat with ice.
If she went to the mirror and used a scalpel to part the skin over her chest, she knows what she would see. Blood thick and dark and cold like the slush left behind when too many carts trample the same patch of snow. Ribs slick as icicles. A frozen heart, ice creaking every time it manages another impossibly slow beat.
Gerda puts her palms against the silvered glass and kisses her reflection.
“I don’t want to be cold anymore,” she whispers.
She sees something glimmering in her reflection’s eyes.
What she always intended to do was save Kai. That’s all that mattered to her. She would have done anything, she tells herself — anything, so long as she didn’t hurt anybody.
And what the Snow Queen asked of her — well, that wasn’t hurting anybody, was it?
It felt good. Gerda had never felt another person’s lips against her skin before; she’d never realized how sensitive she was, how starved. At the first cold touch of the Snow Queen’s skin against hers—
Her hands trailing on the underside of Gerda’s undeveloped breasts, her fingers brushing Gerda’s nipples, making them stand erect and flushed.
Her teeth on Gerda’s neck, the pain sharp and thick and just barely tenable, making her skin change color; first pink, then swollen red, then blue.
Her lips on Gerda’s inner thigh, so soft that she can barely feel it.
Her tongue in a place Gerda’s never been touched before.
And with every touch, Gerda gets the most peculiar sensation — the feeling of another person’s hot body against hers, of a warm tongue pressed down against her clit, followed by an almost unpleasant cold.
A coldness which feels like electricity sparking up and down her spine.
A coldness which makes her arch her back and moan.
There’s nothing Gerda has to do to win this fight, because there’s no fight to be won. All she has to do is lay back and let the Snow Queen bring her the most intense pleasure Gerda has ever known.
After so long searching for Kai, it feels unfamiliar not to fight, not to struggle, not to feel hungry and exhausted and bone-cold.
Strangely, in this last and most important encounter with the Snow Queen, Gerda just feels good.
Later, when she and Kai have returned home, when all is well, when Gerda can’t stop shivering, she looks at Kai and thinks he seems much smaller than herself these days, much younger. She looks in the mirror and sees her cold, hard eyes, her sharp new smile, the fox-like, knowing slant to her face.
She wonders if perhaps the Snow Queen found a way to hurt her after all.
Gerda's power lies in her innocent heart.
The Snow Queen will simply take that as well.
Later, Gerda can’t stop shivering.
She lays on a mattress stuffed with hay, animal skins and old quilts pulled tight around her in a nest, and still she can’t stop shivering. She can see each breath hovering before her like a little cloud. The air in this room seems fresh, impossibly cold, alpine — she pulls in another breath and feels frost nipping at her lungs, coating her throat with ice.
If she went to the mirror and used a scalpel to part the skin over her chest, she knows what she would see. Blood thick and dark and cold like the slush left behind when too many carts trample the same patch of snow. Ribs slick as icicles. A frozen heart, ice creaking every time it manages another impossibly slow beat.
Gerda puts her palms against the silvered glass and kisses her reflection.
“I don’t want to be cold anymore,” she whispers.
She sees something glimmering in her reflection’s eyes.
What she always intended to do was save Kai. That’s all that mattered to her. She would have done anything, she tells herself — anything, so long as she didn’t hurt anybody.
And what the Snow Queen asked of her — well, that wasn’t hurting anybody, was it?
It felt good. Gerda had never felt another person’s lips against her skin before; she’d never realized how sensitive she was, how starved. At the first cold touch of the Snow Queen’s skin against hers—
Her hands trailing on the underside of Gerda’s undeveloped breasts, her fingers brushing Gerda’s nipples, making them stand erect and flushed.
Her teeth on Gerda’s neck, the pain sharp and thick and just barely tenable, making her skin change color; first pink, then swollen red, then blue.
Her lips on Gerda’s inner thigh, so soft that she can barely feel it.
Her tongue in a place Gerda’s never been touched before.
And with every touch, Gerda gets the most peculiar sensation — the feeling of another person’s hot body against hers, of a warm tongue pressed down against her clit, followed by an almost unpleasant cold.
A coldness which feels like electricity sparking up and down her spine.
A coldness which makes her arch her back and moan.
There’s nothing Gerda has to do to win this fight, because there’s no fight to be won. All she has to do is lay back and let the Snow Queen bring her the most intense pleasure Gerda has ever known.
After so long searching for Kai, it feels unfamiliar not to fight, not to struggle, not to feel hungry and exhausted and bone-cold.
Strangely, in this last and most important encounter with the Snow Queen, Gerda just feels good.
Later, when she and Kai have returned home, when all is well, when Gerda can’t stop shivering, she looks at Kai and thinks he seems much smaller than herself these days, much younger. She looks in the mirror and sees her cold, hard eyes, her sharp new smile, the fox-like, knowing slant to her face.
She wonders if perhaps the Snow Queen found a way to hurt her after all.
She lays on a mattress stuffed with hay, animal skins and old quilts pulled tight around her in a nest, and still she can’t stop shivering. She can see each breath hovering before her like a little cloud. The air in this room seems fresh, impossibly cold, alpine — she pulls in another breath and feels frost nipping at her lungs, coating her throat with ice.
If she went to the mirror and used a scalpel to part the skin over her chest, she knows what she would see. Blood thick and dark and cold like the slush left behind when too many carts trample the same patch of snow. Ribs slick as icicles. A frozen heart, ice creaking every time it manages another impossibly slow beat.
Gerda puts her palms against the silvered glass and kisses her reflection.
“I don’t want to be cold anymore,” she whispers.
She sees something glimmering in her reflection’s eyes.
What she always intended to do was save Kai. That’s all that mattered to her. She would have done anything, she tells herself — anything, so long as she didn’t hurt anybody.
And what the Snow Queen asked of her — well, that wasn’t hurting anybody, was it?
It felt good. Gerda had never felt another person’s lips against her skin before; she’d never realized how sensitive she was, how starved. At the first cold touch of the Snow Queen’s skin against hers—
Her hands trailing on the underside of Gerda’s undeveloped breasts, her fingers brushing Gerda’s nipples, making them stand erect and flushed.
Her teeth on Gerda’s neck, the pain sharp and thick and just barely tenable, making her skin change color; first pink, then swollen red, then blue.
Her lips on Gerda’s inner thigh, so soft that she can barely feel it.
Her tongue in a place Gerda’s never been touched before.
And with every touch, Gerda gets the most peculiar sensation — the feeling of another person’s hot body against hers, of a warm tongue pressed down against her clit, followed by an almost unpleasant cold.
A coldness which feels like electricity sparking up and down her spine.
A coldness which makes her arch her back and moan.
There’s nothing Gerda has to do to win this fight, because there’s no fight to be won. All she has to do is lay back and let the Snow Queen bring her the most intense pleasure Gerda has ever known.
After so long searching for Kai, it feels unfamiliar not to fight, not to struggle, not to feel hungry and exhausted and bone-cold.
Strangely, in this last and most important encounter with the Snow Queen, Gerda just feels good.
Later, when she and Kai have returned home, when all is well, when Gerda can’t stop shivering, she looks at Kai and thinks he seems much smaller than herself these days, much younger. She looks in the mirror and sees her cold, hard eyes, her sharp new smile, the fox-like, knowing slant to her face.
She wonders if perhaps the Snow Queen found a way to hurt her after all.
s brushing Gerda’s nipples, making them stand erect and flushed.
Her teeth on Gerda’s neck, the pain sharp and thick and just barely tenable, making her skin change color; first pink, then swollen red, then blue.
Her lips on Gerda’s inner thigh, so soft that she can barely feel it.
Her tongue in a place Gerda’s never been touched before.
And with every touch, Gerda gets the most peculiar sensation — the feeling of another person’s hot body against hers, of a warm tongue pressed down against her clit, followed by an almost unpleasant cold.
A coldness which feels like electricity sparking up and down her spine.
A coldness which makes her arch her back and moan.
There’s nothing Gerda has to do to win this fight, because there’s no fight to be won. All she has to do is lay back and let the Snow Queen bring her the most intense pleasure Gerda has ever known.
After so long searching for Kai, it feels unfamiliar not to fight, not to struggle, not to feel hungry and exhausted and bone-cold.
Strangely, in this last and most important encounter with the Snow Queen, Gerda just feels good.
Later, when she and Kai have returned home, when all is well, when Gerda can’t stop shivering, she looks at Kai and thinks he seems much smaller than herself these days, much younger. She looks in the mirror and sees her cold, hard eyes, her sharp new smile, the fox-like, knowing slant to her face.
She wonders if perhaps the Snow Queen found a way to hurt her after all.
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