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Seasons of Desire #3 - The Snow Maid


[Fantasy, consensual M/F sex, oral sex, hardcore sex, nature spirits, Eternal being, Russian legends, Russian folklore]

Bill Carter was starving and dying of exposure when he fell asleep by the standing stone in the Russian Arctic. Sacrificing his life to save his friends, he never expected to wake up, warm, safe and healed, in the presence of the immortal Snow Maid.

Polina had been alone for decades, her youth slowly draining away as belief in her faded in the world above. She had taken Bill's life in trade for those of his companions. Will the heat of their passion ignite an eternal love, or are the differences between them too great?


      “Stop it stop it stop it!” she gasped, still giggling, barely able to get the words out. She slowly got control of herself. She stood up, Bill helping her. Then he stood back, looking at her with astonishment.
      She was visibly growing younger before his very eyes. As he watched, the last remnants of crow's feet vanished from her eyes and the corners of her mouth. Faint age spots disappeared from her throat. Pale gold hair flowed like a molten river down her back, without even the slightest trace of gray. Her stomach shrank, the last remnants of her belly disappearing as her waist drew inwards over the curved swell of her hips. Her bosom tightened, breasts rising round, high and firm from her chest, with not the faintest hint of a sag. Even through the fabric of her dress, he could see the firm outlines of her nipples pressing into the cloth.
      She was amazingly, radiantly, incandescently beautiful, as awe-inspiring and terrible as a blizzard on the plains.
      She caught his shocked gaze. Her hand flew to her face and a sudden inward look came over her as she delved deep into the spirit world.
      “Oh,” she said. “Oh my! Oh!” Her eyes grew wide and soft, the pupils dilating with desire. She ran her hands down her body, gently wondering, mouth curving in a smile as she felt the loose fit of her dress over her belly, took in the place where the fabric of her bodice strained to contain her newly restored breasts. Her thighs shifted, rubbing against each other, and she made a pleased sound low in her throat as warmth grew in her womanly core.
      She looked up again, glorious eyes shifting hues even as he looked, from ice gray to wintry blue to pale green. He flinched back in fear from her hungry gaze and she took a step away from him, eyes closing as she fought for control.
      “She's here. I'm not...Bill, I'm not ready. I didn't think she would come so soon.
      “My friend, please forgive me. I must leave you tonight. I must...I will see you tomorrow.”
      A trifle unsteadily, she walked out of the room.


      She felt like howling her triumph to the heavens. She felt like weeping in despair.
      She was the Snow Maid again. After decades of forced celibacy and crushing loneliness, she had it all back. Power. Youth. Beauty.
      And it would all be dust in her mouth if she didn't have the love of the small, strong, impossibly courageous young man who had captured her heart with his silent bravery, in the face of challenges that would have driven most men mad.
     She could take him, she knew. Overpower his mind with the strength of hers. Use his body to slake her lust and break him to her will.
      She shuddered in revulsion. No. He had done every task she set him to with a willing heart. She would not betray him that way. He was fond of her, she knew. He had been courteously polite with Grandmother, and she thought that his relationship with Mother was deepening into real friendship.
      If he hadn't made me laugh...
      The joy she had taken in his silly, stupid jokes had torn through the barriers in the spirit world. The power that flowed from him to her had become a flood, raging through her, reversing decades of aging in an eyeblink.
      Slowly, she took off her gown, taking sensual delight in the feel of the cold air on her skin. Her hands dipped low, stroking the flat planes of her stomach. She caught sight of her image in the mirror and frowned. Grabbing a small pair of scissors off her bedside table, she leaned against the headboard of her bed, spreading her legs and exposing herself to the mirror's view.
      Working quickly, she quickly trimmed the golden nest of hair away from her pubis, leaving only a small patch, a grace note to accent the beauty of her vulva. She lay back on the down comforter, luxuriating in the candle-kissed glory of her body, supple skin like velvet over her flesh. So long, she thought. It has been so long. A finger traced the petals of her sex, and they opened like a flower, moist with dew. Her other hand cupped her breast, turgid nipple rising of its own accord.
      It wouldn't take much. Just a nudge with your mind. He was thinking of you in the bath this morning while he took his pleasure. You felt it. He wouldn't even know. He would serve you willingly for the rest of his days.
      No. I would know. And Bill could not love a person who would do that to him. And I could not live with myself.

      Firmly she took her hands off her body, shaking with unfulfilled need. Slowly, how slowly, the tide of desire receded. Crawling into bed, she willed the lights off, and fell into a restless, hungry sleep.

Word Count: 19,900

** This book is on my short list for ‘best of the year.’ **
~ Sylvie Storm, eReadErotica Reviews

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