{"loaderData":{"4":{"story":{"id":"59c04eea-8a67-45df-b1c0-279f29d3921d","seriesId":null,"seriesName":null,"currentUserId":"00000000-0000-0000-0000-000000000000","added":"2024-08-12T05:34:32.788Z","title":"The Ice Princess","slug":"the-ice-princess","shortId":"sF83aI15","authorNote":null,"disclaimer":null,"type":"Short","paidUrl":null,"synopsis":"A corporate lawyer, with the help of his scientist brother, finds a way to melt an all too cold colleague.","partCount":1,"parts":[{"partId":"060a094d-4fce-4138-94bc-a5f829cb064f","title":null,"summary":"Behind her\nback we called her the Ice Princess. \nStunning face, blonde hair cascading down her ","wordCount":3666,"readTime":18,"number":1,"state":"Published"}],"currentPart":1,"contentTitle":"Chapter 1","content":"

Behind her\nback we called her the Ice Princess. \nStunning face, blonde hair cascading down her back, slim waist, fine\ntits, superlative legs. And she made the\nmost of them as well, wearing fine sheer hose and four-inch stiletto heels,\ntightly cut dresses ending above the knee, low enough to satisfy conservative\nemployers but high enough to make everyone dream. Our cocks strained at the mere sight of her;\nbut not one of us could talk her into a date, let alone bed. At Yale Law School, where I first knew her,\nshe graduated third in her class (I graduated 127th, though perhaps I could\nhave done better if I hadn’t been staring at those tits and legs through my\nclasses). I tried to ask her out once,\nand she looked through me and barely offered a reply. She was no virgin – there had been a\nboyfriend back home, we gathered, but even when he was out of the picture there\nwas nothing there for the rest of us.

Her name\nwas Alicia Zimmerman. Out of Yale she\nhad her pick of the finest law firms in New York, and took a position with one\nof the very best. She was universally\ntipped to make partner before very long: she worked long hours, remaining at\nthe office far into the night, and (perhaps in consequence) appeared to have no\ninclination for a serious social life. I\nwas working in New York too, at a rather less regarded firm, and would see her\naround the courts from time to time. She\nshowed no sign of recognizing me, and I did not see any point in attempting to\nrenew the acquaintance.

My good\ndrinking buddy Derek, however, was at her firm, and so I was treated to the\nconstant complaints. Alicia got\nsuch-and-such a case ahead of him, Alicia was singled out for praise in\nmeetings, Alicia was the partners’ golden girl. \nHe cursed his luck at having someone around to whom he would always have\nto play second fiddle. And above all he\ncursed the Ice Princess’s refusal ever to give any man the time of day, not\njust because he would have loved to bed her himself (who wouldn’t?), but\nbecause a sex life might distract her from her work enough to give the rest of\nthem a chance.

It was\naround then that I had a piece of wonderful good fortune. My brother is a genetic scientist at an\ninnovative laboratory, and was working on the side at one or two projects which\nallowed him to explore some of his more private interests – interests, I should\nsay, that he and I shared. And his\nresearch had just reached fruition: he called me in great excitement to explain\nit all. I immediately saw the\npossibilities for the delightful Ms Zimmerman; I talked it through with Derek,\nand he too loved the idea of melting down the Ice Princess forever. It would require a lot of planning, and quite\na lot of money too, but one advantage of being a New York corporate lawyer is\nthat funding and planning is our meat and drink …

*****

Alicia\nZimmerman was, as often, working late at the office: she was determined to\nfinish the brief she was preparing before leaving for the night. Finally she wrote the last words, fired it\noff in an e-mail attachment. She yawned\nand stretched in relief and satisfaction, and slipped on her shoes and buckled\nthe straps around her ankles ready to go home. \nShe was not the last to leave the office by any means: several\nparalegals were still hard at work, and she noticed with a mild twinge of\nirritation that Derek too was at his desk, as he had been for a couple of weeks\nnow. Something made her a little\nuncomfortable around Derek – she had sometimes in the last few days turned and\nfound him staring at her intently. The\nsex thing, she supposed – it irritated her no end that her male colleagues\nseemed unable to stop acting like crazed adolescents.

She rode\nthe elevator to the ground, and waved to the doorman as she exited. As always, she crossed the narrow plaza to\nthe side of the building as a quick cut through to the main street where she\ncould easily pick up a taxi. As always,\nit was deserted at this time of the night; the only sound was her heels\nclicking on the sidewalk.

Suddenly\nthe world went black as something descended over her head. Her arms were entangled in the heavy\ncloth. She tried to scream, but she\ncould barely draw breath; she tried to kick, but nothing connected. She felt someone seize her upper body; she\nstruggled, overbalanced, and found herself on what felt like a metal floor. The floor of a truck or car? Yes, the engine was starting up. In her panic she fought to extract her arms,\nbut to no avail. She struggled to sit\nupright, but still her upper body was trapped in darkness …

*****

The\nabduction went perfectly. Derek called\nme on my cell as soon as he saw the Ice Princess leaving, and my brother and I\nwere waiting with the sack. Over her\nhead it went, and then I tied it off at the waist. I pushed her into the back of the truck. It was wonderful to watch the way her skirt\nrode up as she struggled, revealing black lace panties underneath the hose, and\nher lovely long legs kicking vainly with her feet in their elegant\nstilettos. I locked the door of the\ntruck compartment, scooped up her purse from where it had fallen, and leaped\ninto the front seat to drive to the place we had specially prepared.

The drive\nwas around an hour; we had rented a house just outside the city limits. We needed to be close in to fulfil the last\npart of our plan, but we also needed enough space and distance from neighbors –\nwe could hardly do what we needed to in a Manhattan apartment. I pulled up into the driveway, parked and\nunlocked the back door. We had put on\nmasks and I was holding a gun in case she had succeeded in struggling free of\nthe sack, but as it turned out neither was needed for the moment. Her upper body was still totally trapped by\nthe sack; all she had managed to do was push herself into a sitting position. I grabbed her shoulders and pulled her out of\nthe truck; I heard a muffled shriek as she tried to find her footing and run;\nbut the four-inch stilettos were not made for running (or even balancing)\nin. She collapsed to the ground, the\nsack heaving. I dragged and pushed her into\nthe house, and into the cell we had made ready. \nI banged shut the door.

After a\ncouple of hours Derek joined us, and we watched the video from the camera in\nthe cell. Alicia had succeeded in\nstanding up; she had found thbed and was sitting on it. She seemed calmer now, which suggested that\nshe had probably already explored the tie around her waist and found it\nimpregnable.

We went\ninto the room, and Derek and I grabbed her body from either side to hold her\nsteady. We pushed her forward onto the\nbed. My brother pulled her hose down her\nkicking legs, then her panties; and while we sat on her back, he took his\nhypodermic needle and plunged it into her buttock. She shook and quivered, and then her world\nwent even blacker than it was already.

We were\nnow able to remove the sack, and to admire our acquisition. The Ice Princess lay asleep, her long hair\ntousled and matted with sweat. Her white\nblouse under her gray suit was also soaked; we carefully removed both and\nfolded them on the wooden chair which comprised the only other furniture in the\ncell. We held her wonderful tits in our\ngaze – how often I had looked at them under layers of clothing, and now there\nwas nothing but a lacy bra between me and them. \nThat bra was the next to go, followed by the hose, panties and\nshoes. We lay her on her back, naked at\nlast.

Now we\nwere ready for the next stage

*****

Alicia\nawoke in a daze. To begin with her mind\ncould not quite compute where she was. \nHer eyes half opened, and she saw a small bare room, which made no\nsense, with a bare lightbulb hanging from the ceiling, which also made no sense. She was lying on a bed – and then she\nremembered. She had been kidnaped! She pushed herself upright – and then fell\nback with a groan, as her weakness took over.

Something\nelse forced its way to the front of the fog of her mind. She was naked!

Had she\nbeen raped? That was the first and\nobvious question. She gingerly felt\naround the opening of her vagina; she thought there was perhaps a slight\ntenderness, but no tearing or pain that she would have expected if a penis had\nbeen thrust into her while she was unready. \nPerhaps she had been spared that – but then, what had happened to\nher? What was the purpose of this\nabduction? Ransom?

She looked\naround a little more carefully. There\nwas a chair in the room, and on it her clothes were neatly folded. She let herself gently down on the floor, and\ntottered over. With some effort she\npulled on her clothes, and at last felt less vulnerable. But she was tired, so tired … She went back\nto the bed and lay down to sleep.

She was\nawakened again by a dull ache in her genitals. \nShe shook her head and reached down with her hands, but she was still\nfully dressed: nothing had happened to her. \nBut the ache was there, and getting worse. It began to burn more and more, until she was\ndoubled over by the pain. As she lay\nmoaning, with her hands clutched to her groin, the door opened and a man walked\nin. His face was covered with a full\nmask, and he was wearing dark glasses.

“Good\nmorning, Alicia.” His voice sounded\nvaguely familiar, as if she had heard it once long before. “I think it is time for us to have a little\ntalk.”

Despite\nthe cramping agony in her genitals, she forced herself to sit upright and look\nstraight at him. She yelled at the top\nof her voice – a satisfying release to be able to do so. “You BASTARD!!! What do you want with\nme? What have you done to me?”

“Well,\nAlicia, here’s the thing. You are\nprobably feeling a lot of pain now; it’s only going to get worse. We’ve inserted into you a parasite – a very\nspecial parasite, genetically modified to our own specifications. It attaches itself to the pudendal nerve –\nthe nerve, in case you were wondering, which supplies the whole genital and\nanal area with sensation. Or, in this\ncase, with pain. Every millimeter of\nthat nerve is now firing with pain. If\nleft unchecked, the parasite will in the next 24 hours or so burrow its way\nthrough the nerve, then it will enter the bloodstream and find its way to your\nheart. At that point you will die,\nthough by that point you may well want to die, if you are still sane.”

They were\ngoing to kill her? She was going to die\nof this? Her mind couldn’t register it;\nshe began to shake her head from side to side and wail.

She was\nbrought back to awareness by a slap on her face.

“Stop your\nbawling. You’re not going to die – at\nleast, not yet, and not unless you want to. \nI said ‘if it is left unchecked’. \nWell, there’s a way to check it. \nThe parasite’s actions can be blocked by one thing: human semen. Coat the inside of your cunt thoroughly with\nsemen, and the pain will go. Your\nimmediate problem is that there is only one source of human semen in this\nroom. Me”.

“You mean\n– you want me to fuck you, you bastard?”

“No, Alicia,\nyou still haven’t got it. YOU want me to\nfuck YOU. That is the only thing\ncurrently standing between you and an agonizing death. But I’m hardly going to do it if you call me\nthings like ‘you bastard’. You’ll have\nto beg me, really beg me nicely, and then – perhaps – I might agree to fuck you\nout of the goodness of my heart.”

“I won’t\ndo it! How do I even know you’re telling\nthe truth (oh god, it hurts so much)? \nHow do I know this isn’t just some ploy to sleep with me?”

“You\ndon’t. But here’s the thing,\nAlicia. If I’d wanted to ‘sleep with\nyou’, as you so delicately put it, I could have done it already. And the pain is getting worse by the minute –\nisn’t it? Do you have any other options\nthan to believe me?”

“OK, OK,\nOK – I’ll do it. Oh god, oh god, oh\ngod. PLEASE fuck me, I’m begging you. PLEASE FUCK ME, PLEASE FUCK ME, I’LL DO\nANYTHING BUT PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE FUCK ME”.

*****

So there\nat last I had my victory. The Ice\nPrincess was begging me – ME – to fuck her. \nOf course, she wanted to rush into it – as soon as I generously agreed\nto do her that favor she started to tear off her clothes. But I insisted on doing it properly. I kissed her, undressed her lovingly and\npiece by piece. I massaged her tits, and\nmade her gently caress my cock and balls. \nWhen I entered her, I did it with the maximum deliberation, savoring\nevery slow stroke in and out; it took nearly 45 minutes from start to\nfinish. And all the while my pleasure\nwas doubled by the knowledge that she was experiencing no pleasure at all; her\nwhole body was shaking with growing agony and desperation to bring the act to\nits consummation. At last I thrust\ninside her and came – and then watched her face relax in a wonderful parody of\npost-coital satisfaction, as the semen did its work, and her pain subsided. I had in fact been telling the truth – though,\nlike many lawyers, not the whole truth.

I got up\noff the bed.

“Now,\nAlicia, I’m going to leave you alone for a bit. \nThe semen will keep the parasite dormant for a short time – perhaps five\nhours or so on average. Then the pain\nwill start again; when you need my ‘services’, call me …”

***

Alicia dressed\nherself and lay on the bed. The pain had\ngone, but the humiliation was very much alive. \nFive hours, he said. Would she have\nto do this every five hours forever? But\nthere must be ways of living her life around that: she could find a steady\nboyfriend and carry his semen with her to use. \nShe would have to make some explanations, but it didn’t have to affect\nher life. And in time she was sure that\na doctor would be able to find and eradicate whatever it was that was causing\nthis horrible thing. And in the\nmeantime, she could certainly see that smug bastard behind bars. Perhaps rape would be a hard charge to make\nstick, under the circumstances, but his DNA was in her, and there would be no\ntrouble proving kidnaping and assault against him. These happy thoughts continued, until they\nwere interrupted by a familiar ache.

She knew\nwhat she needed to do. She shouted out\n“HEY, COME HERE, I NEED YOU.” No\nresponse. She waited, then shouted\nagain. She rattled and banged at the\nsolid door, she shouted and screamed as loudly as she could, as the horrible\npain burned worse and worse at her most sensitive parts. No one came, and in the end she collapsed\nonto the floor, her hands pressing between her legs.

*****

I had been\nwatching her on the video throughout, of course, but I thought it better for\nher to be made to wait. When I saw her\nwrithing on the floor, I sauntered into the room. She cowered before my feet pleading and\nsobbing.

“PLEASE\nPLEASE PLEASE FUCK ME, I CAN’T STAND ANY MORE!!!”

So I once\nagain generously allowed myself to fuck her – once again, of course, with all\nthe foreplay and the gentle stripping, the caresses and the slow, slow\npenetration, all while her eyes filled with tears and her teeth gritted as she\nsought to bring me to climax without antagonizing me by going too fast. At last I thrust in, ejaculated, and pulled\nout with a satisfied sigh. And then I watched\nAlicia’s face, as the realization gradually dawned on her. The pain had not gone away, not even a\nlittle. Her mouth convulsed with horror\nand panic.

“IT’S NOT\nSTOPPING WHY ISN’T IT STOPPING OH GOD OH GOD IT HUUURTS ME!”

And at\nthis point Derek came into the room, masked just as I was. He said nothing, he didn’t even pause, but\npulled out his dick and thrust hard into her as she lay crying on the\nground. There was no pretense at\nconsent, this was rape pure and simple. \nI sat on her hands to ensure her co-operation, leaving her with nothing\nto do but kick and buck, scream and cry, as the pain of the rape mixed with the\nagony throughout her whole cunt. It\ndidn’t take long: in a few minutes he came right inside her, and pulled himself\nout with a sneer of contempt. She lay\nthere sobbing still, and then gradually realized that, even with the aftermath\nof the rape, the pain had subsided. She\nlooked up at us both.

“Now,\ncunt,” I said, “you know the full truth. \nSemen stops the parasite, yes. \nBut this parasite has a very robust immune system: it adjusts itself\neach time to block the DNA pattern in the semen. So each time you need to find a new source of\nDNA: no man will work for you twice.”

“Then …\nthen why did you …”

“Just for\nmy own pleasure – and of course your pain. \nThere IS no better reason than that. \nSo now think it out, my prudish little sweetheart. Every five hours – or perhaps six, or perhaps\njust four - you need a new man, a new source of semen. That is going to be the focus of your life\nfrom now on. And don't think that any\ndoctor will help you: this parasite won’t be in any of their books, and by the\ntime they’ve researched it, you will be dead. \nThey can block the pudendal nerve to end the pain, but that will also\nremove all sexual pleasure, and anyway it won’t stop the parasite from going\nthrough its routine and killing you. In\nfact, the pain gives you the warning: without it you will simply die.

“Of\ncourse, this is probably going to kill you anyway. Unprotected sex with five different men every\nday? Thirty-five men every week? One hundred and fifty every month? And then, you need to think about whether\nthere are enough men around to fill your needs. \nNo problem now, perhaps, when you are young: but do you think people\nwill be so keen to fuck you when you are fifty or sixty? You should think about making some money out\nof it now, because before long you are going to have to pay them. Be discreet, though: you don’t want to be\npicked up by the police for whoring, after all. Two nights in an all-female jail will be\nenough to kill you.

“But look\non the bright side: we did you one favor. \nMy partner here wanted to put the parasite in your ass.”

And with\nthat, Derek and I walked out of the room.

We left\nher there another five hours, until once again she was screaming with the\npain. My brother declined to service her\n(he always prefers watching to acting), so there was nothing else we could do\nfor her. We drove her back to New York,\nand let her go somewhere in the East Village. \nThe last we saw of her, she was staggering towards some bar, almost\noverbalancing in her high heels as she tried to stay upright despite the\ncramping agonies in her cunt. She\ndisappeared into the bar. I presume she\nwas planning to pick up a man: I hoped for her sake it didn’t take too long.

Alicia\nnever reported us to the police. Perhaps\nshe was too ashamed by the story, or perhaps it was too hard for her to make\nappointments now, knowing that any overrun would leave her running out to look\nfor a new lover before it was too late. \nOr perhaps she could no longer focus on anything except her need for\nsex, her need to find a new man every few hours. Certainly within the week she had resigned\nfrom the law firm – hard to concentrate on legal cases when you need to leave\nthe office a couple of times a day, and when your main focus is how you are\ngoing to pick up your next man. She gave\nup her apartment too – she was hardly there, since she was spending her time\ncruising bars. I gather she now snatches\na few hours of sleep with her ‘dates’, and eats when she can persuade them to\nbuy her a quick meal as part of the ‘courting process’.

I saw her\nfor the last time a few weeks ago, two years after we had changed her life for\nher. She was still beautiful, but looked\nstrained and tired as only a woman can who has had more than 3500 different\nsexual partners shooting their load inside her. \nHer clothes were now more blatantly sexy (micro-skirt, tight blouse with\nno bra underneath, and ultra-high heels): she needed to take every possible\nshort-cut on her endless quest for sex. \nShe sat next to me at a bar: there was no glimmer of recognition in her\nface. She looked at me in a seductive\nway; she nuzzled to my body as close as she could without actual sexual contact. I responded with surprise and hesitation,\nthen with tentative enthusiasm. Yes, I\nknew I should be careful about having unprotected sex with the biggest slut in\nNew York, but I couldn’t resist it despite the risk.

I managed\nto string her out for more than three hours. I insisted on buying her dinner, on taking her\nhome. I kept my dick out of her cunt as\nlong as I possibly could, insisting that she caress it with her hands and lick\nit with her tongue instead, and she had to do so, even though she was terrified\nthat I might come too early and waste the valuable semen outside her. Every time she appeared to be giving me up as\na lost cause and finding someone else, I pressed her closer for encouragement,\nall without actually completing the act. \nBy the end I saw her gritting her teeth with the pain, but trying\ndesperately to conceal it. And then I\nshot my load into her, and watched her wait for an easing of her agony. But no easing came. Before she had a chance to react, I kissed\nher goodbye and pushed her naked out of the door: I threw her clothes out after\nher. She had to start again from scratch\nand try to find somewhere to pick up a man in the middle of the night, to act\nthe seductress with her whole cunt burning her up. And as I knew well, there were no bars or\nclubs in my neighborhood, even if one knew where to look. Perhaps she would be\nlucky and find a rapist.

As she\npulled her clothes on and teetered down the dark street, I thought I heard a\nkeening wail.

And that\nis how we melted the Ice Princess forever.

\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n

THE END

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