The Frost King
Female Reader x Male Monster
Fantasy x Cold vs Hot x Somnophilia x Poly King
The piece of paper slips from your hand and into the box. You release a nervous breath, and a smile crosses your face. The box seems like nothing in the grand scheme of things, but every year the people of Rudbeck waited for it with brimming excitement.
Having placed your name into the box for the last few years, there was a chill that ran down your spine this year. This was your year; you just knew it! More young men and women came up behind you to insert their names for the selection. You even saw your sister, who shyly tucked her slip of paper behind her back when she saw you.
“I thought you weren’t coming.” Your smile grew as her cheeks burned bright.
Hannah frowned, keeping her hands tucked behind her back. “I asked Olaus. He said I should try one more time.”
You suspect she was also holding her husband’s name on a slip of paper. You couldn’t help but feel jealous of the newlyweds and their desire to continue the Rudbeck tradition.
“Who knows? Perhaps you will be blessed with a child of snow.” I teased her.
Her eyes flicked to the podium, then back to you. “That doesn’t matter. What matters is that someone can awaken the frost.”
Ah yes, the frost. The spirits of season blessed four towns. Each one responsible for waking the blossom, the heat, the falling, and the frost. Rudbeck was responsible for winter. Each year, a volunteer is selected from the box who will wake the King of Winter. It is a great honor, as the King will visit you after each frost he lays. Everyone wants the role of awakening the king. You had been waiting for years.
Every time you saw the Waker, they always seemed so…blissful after waking the king. All winter they floated around with their head in the clouds. You were never the jealous type; in fact, you were happy for them. But you so longed to be one of those blissful individuals for a winter.
Since you grew up in the selected ‘Town of Winter’, one might think you were built for the elements. But poor circulation had plagued your family for generations, and your career as a glassblower was more than a choice of artistic passion. The constant fires and excess heat of the shop were exactly the sort of escape you needed. Even if your goal was the King of Winter, you were a child of summer at heart.
One morning as you were preparing breakfast, there came a knock at your door. It was far too early for company.
“Wait,” you whispered. “What day is it?” You closed your robe tight around you and went to the door. There stood last year’s Waker, Mikkel, holding a bag.
“Congratulations!” He offered out the bag with his triumphant greeting. “Your name was just selected from the box this morning.”
Despite knowing in your heart that this was your year, you were wide-eyed with disbelief. “Come in!” You gasped, stepping aside to let him in. “Oh! Mikkel, how wonderful to see you!”
He chuckled, stepping into your small flat. Ever since last year, he had held this charming twinkle in his eye. It appeared as if he knew the secrets of the world.
You were practically dancing on your tiptoes. “I was just making breakfast. Would you like anything?”
“Something warm to drink.” He took a seat at your table. “I’m mainly here to tell you what you can expect when you go to wake King Frost.”
Coffee was at the ready; all you had to do was pour him a cup. “Just tell me when I can go!”
Mikkel laughed again. “I can see you’re excited. But there are a few tips I want to pass on.” He took the coffee mug, his fingers cool as they touched your skin.
“Really?” You sat down beside him, heart still pounding away.
“It’s freezing up there, and he doesn’t like warmth very much. So it’s important you take a tincture before you go.” He motioned to the bag. “You have the supplies you’ll need in there.”
Taking the bag onto your lap, you sorted through. The fire tincture was quite a large bottle. There were fur-lined gloves and socks as well. There was also a silvery bottle full of an opalescent fluid.
“I promise you’ll need that. Do not think you can do this on your own skill and cunning. It’ll be a big surprise when you first meet him.”
The vial itself was gorgeous; you could tell it was your Master’s work at the glass shop. But it was the viscous liquid inside that made the fine glass shine. “Is he truly as they say?” You’re not sure why you spoke so hushed.
Another knowing laugh came from Mikkel’s lips. “He is. Trust me, I'd used the whole vial by the time I woke him.”
Your belly churned with excitement. “That’s what I wanted to hear, Mikkel.” He leaned forward, giving him a soft kiss on the cheek. “Is there anything he likes I should know about?”
“He adores having fun. When he wakes up, he’ll want to play a bit.” His smile was so bright. “And don’t be afraid to push him around. I know he will intimidate you, but he needs to be fully awake.”
“I see.” You murmured.
Mikkel hesitated. There were words on his lips he wanted to speak but couldn’t get out. He lowered his gaze, eyes focusing on the vial in your hand.
“What’s wrong?” You asked.
He sighed bitterly. “I know this sounds selfish of me. I have already had my turn and all. But I would love to see him again. Maybe one night after his first frost I could stay with you? At least to tell him I think of him often.”
You smiled. “Of course! I don’t mind that at all.”
His cheeks flushed, and he looked near tears. “Thank you! I will pay you back for that kindness. I promise.”
“No worries. So when can I go?” You were eager to get to the king’s resting grounds. It was a brief journey outside town to the lake.
When you approached the edge of the lake, there was a woman waiting for you. She didn’t look too happy, and as if she were in a rush.
“Waker?” She grunted at you.
You nodded, clutching your bag of supplies in your hand.
The woman looked you up and down with a critical eye. “Have ya taken the tincture yet, honey?”
“One, yes!” It was a potent drink too. Your senses were already muddling and blurring as the heat grew in your belly.
She clicked her tongue a few times. “He likes the bigger girls.” She said this dismissively, despite the uplifting message. She stepped closer to the lake, stomped her foot a few times and threw out seeds across the frozen surface.
A moment later, the ice cracked, opening to reveal a set of stairs. The woman stepped aside. “There you go. Just let me know when you get back.” She pointed to the hut on the other side of the lake, which she immediately started walking towards.
“What do I-” She would not stop to listen. You peered down the stairs, seeing they went quite far. You swallowed and stepped down.
You were under the lake, frozen above you. There were plants suspended in the cold, a few creatures hibernating against rocks and flora. The sight awed you. Then, you stepped into a massive, cavernous room. There wasn’t much to it, aside from the king’s bed in the dead center.
“This is it,” you whispered. The fire tincture was now in your limbs and lips. You were roiling hot. You stripped off your coat, tossing it to the floor as you approached the bed. The bed was on a platform surrounded by a shroud of ice. You could see the king’s resting form inside, still as death.
You swallowed hard from the mixture of nerves and excitement. Your breath came out in thick, billowing clouds, which parted the sheer ice curtain. A moment of prayer and then you stepped towards his bed.
Biting your lip, you took in the king’s visage for the first time. Long white hair surrounded his head and dripped over his pillow. His white beard fell onto his bare chest. His features were sharp; his nose was long and hooked.
He lay bare on the bed as you gazed down. He was lean, with long fingers, nails like diamonds. You placed a knee onto the bed, your breath coming out in even thicker clouds.
“Wow,” you whispered. Removing your hat and scarf, you were awestruck by his body. Then you saw between his thighs.
“My goodness!” You gasped, crawling down to get a better look. The scepter of a king was always strong and mighty, but the scepter attached to this king was even mightier.
“Mikkel didn’t prepare me for this.” You murmured as you inspected it. “The cock of King Frost.” You took a deep breath. “It’s mine.”
The shaft was heavy in your hand. Frost at the tip chipped away, revealing a pink shine beneath. The fire tincture was working its magic, but it was also daring you to take a taste of the king. The cold of his glans mingled with a sort of dewiness, making him taste like snow cream. Your tongue, however, could not explore further. It became stuck to his pole.
Taking the glass vial, you opened it and poured the shimmering liquid over your tongue. As the frost melted, it tasted like sugar, crystalizing, shattering, and sweetening along his glans.
“I have to be careful.” You licked your lips, tasting the cold and sweetness. Taking off a glove, you rubbed the liquid over his cock, knocking away the frost and giving him an even more delicious shine.
Flicking your eyes up towards his face, the king showed no signs of waking. “I can’t wait for you to wake up.” You kissed his tip, going down. “I can’t wait to see what you are like.” You planted soft, inviting kisses down. Sucking slightly, you opened your lips over his sack. They were heavy and soft, with the same inviting creaminess as his tip.
Your mouth watered, causing drool to freeze on your chin. You dribbled more of the shining liquid onto his scepter. There came a pulse as you stroked him. You lapped up the underbelly before greedily taking the glans into your mouth. Moaning against him, urging his cock to wake before he did. You took him deep into your mouth, choking but not stopping.
King Frost was hardening. More than that, he was growing even larger than before. You gagged upon him, sputtering him out to see his icicle standing high and proud.
You knocked frozen spittle from your chin, sitting up to remove your pants and underclothes. Straddling the king’s thigh, you thrust your hips back and forth. His skin was cold, but your loins were wildfire. You left glossy trails on him that quickly froze over the next instant. Your heat and his cold make an intoxicating sensation on your lips.
“I’ve waited for you,” you whimpered. “I’ve heard all the stories. When I was told lullabies as a child, I was so enchanted with you.” You moaned out as your pleasure grew. “I’ve wanted to wake you. I’ve longed for it.” You continued to grind into his thigh. “I’d do anything for you.” You climbed up to him to plant soft, loving kisses on his lips.
You brushed aside his wild hair, admiring how the sharpness of his face didn’t make him jagged, but strange in the most beautiful way.
Reaching below, you touched yourself, sinking your fingers inside. You then took the damp tips, placing them upon his lips and into his mouth. His tongue was soft, teeth frighteningly sharp.
“Let my taste be the last thing you dream of,” you whimpered. You eased back, rising and guiding the icicle. You poured more of the shining liquid over the tip, rubbing it into your loins as well.
“Do you feel me?” You gazed up at him. “How warm I am? How wet?” You rubbed his tip against your folds. “Are you realizing this is real?”
The king’s eyelids were twitching ever so slightly.
Lowering down, you began taking him inside. He was so big, much bigger than you thought you could take. But the beautiful liquid was doing its job.
“I bet it feels better when you’re awake.” You whimpered as you took off your top, the last article of clothing you had on, aside from your socks. “I need you to wake up so you can truly fuck me, my king.” Your hips moved on their own. The fire tincture was guiding you, making you speak out loud, thrust harder than you intended.
King Frost’s eyes twitched more, causing his lashes to flutter. His lips parted, and snowflakes escaped with his breath.
“Yes! Yes! Wake up. It’s winter.” Your thrusts became faster, harder. You were already close. “Do you feel me coming for you? My king! I’m coming for you!”
The king’s hand gripped your thigh, and another breath of snowflakes fluttered around you. You didn’t stop, the fire tincture was pooling in your loins, burning, aching.
You needed to come! You needed to come for him!
King Frost’s eyes flashed open as you threw back your head, crying out in abandon as your body became wrecked with an intensity you had never reached. You gushed, spilling along his shaft.
The room was spinning as you collapsed onto the king’s chest. Shaking and gasping for breath, his hands roamed over your rear.
“Even better than last year’s.” He squeezed greedily at your ass.
Shakily, you sat up. “My king?”
Sitting up, the king smirked down upon you. His hair flowed around his head like a wild mane. “Let me see you, Waker.” He held your chin between his long fingers, smoothing his thumb across your heated lips.
“They get better and better each year.” He licked his lips.
You shot up, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him with a desperation that had left you in childhood. King Frost continued fondling your rear, easing his cock between your cheeks.
King Frost chuckled as he kissed the top of your head and temple. “Catch your breath. I won’t tire you so quickly.” He lifted your chin again, studying your face with keen eyes. “You will be mine all winter. Do you want me to give you my all now, or do you wish to wait?”
“I want it all now! I’ve been waiting for you for so long!” You realized you were overeager, but the fire tincture was forcing you to speak again.
King Frost’s laugh was jovial and sweet. “Would you like to play with me?” His smirk was dastardly.
You nodded. “Yes, my king.”
“Call me Jack,” he laughed. “No need to be formal now that you’ve come on my cock.” He reached down, stroking himself and moaning indulgently. “You actually got me warm. Feel.”
You placed your hand around him, his pulse growing more intense.
“Go ahead, play. I am all yours after all.” He watched your hand go up and down, up and down, grin ever present. “Is there anything you would like us to do, my Waker?”
“I was going to ask you the same thing,” you giggled. “I want to know how you’d like to play with me?”
The king was upon you in an instant, pinning you down on the bed. He flipped your rear up, pushing your knees beside your ears. He plunged his long fingers into you, opening you up.
“My, my, my. All the things I could do to you.” He held out his palm, forming a rounded icicle in the center. He pressed it into you, slowly easing it in and out. It was absolutely freezing, thank goodness for the fire tincture.
“Look how fast it’s melting.” He removed what remained of the icicle and lapped what melted from inside. He slurped loudly, moaning and growling as he opened you with his fingers again. His tongue swirled inside you, long and cold.
He laughed against you, pulling back his tongue as he kissed your clit. “I could do that all winter.”
“Do I make good tea?”
Jack threw his head back, guffawing. He then slapped your rear with glee. “You and I are going to have great fun, my darling! Great fun!” Jack laid you back upon the bed and stepped off the bed.
As you peered through the curtains, you saw that the cavernous room had taken on a more cozy appearance. There were carvings in the ice of animals dancing among snowflakes. A grand chair had appeared, and with it, a small serving cart laden with bottles and food.
“Come, come,” he beckoned you, curling his long fingers. “Eat something. I’m sure all those stairs and fucking made you hungry.”
There was an open tin of Turkish Delight, a beautifully crafted gingerbread house, petite fours with glittering frosting, and wine served in bottles similar to the vial of shimmering liquid. Jack opened one, poured a glass and drank.
You took a gumdrop from the gingerbread out, sucking off the frosting and sugar before the sweetness filled your mouth.
Jack’s fingers caressed your back. “If you don’t like sweets, I can get you something else. Besides myself, I mean.”
You shook your head. “I have a sweet tooth.”
“So do I!” He then offered you the wine, letting you sip from his cup. It too was quite sweet. Some dribbled down your chin and onto your breast. “Ah, for me.” He knelt down, kicking your jaw, your neck. His tongue trailed down your breast until your nipple was between his lips.
“Jack,” you whimpered. “I’m sensitive.”
He bit, causing you to scream out in pain and arousal. A smile came into his eyes. He took icing from the gingerbread house, smearing it on the other nipple. He licked and bit, growling as he feasted.
As your body trembled, Jack swept you off your feet, lifting you from the ground and holding you in his arms. There were more kisses, soft moans. A pleasure rippled through you as Jack took you back to bed.
The sheets were cool against your back. The fire tincture fully engulfed your whole body. Jack rested his body on top of yours, kissing you, petting you. His hands stroked down your legs and under your thighs, hoisting them up before placing his icicle upon you. He studied how deep it would go, eyes shimmering.
You bit your lip, already well aware of how he fit inside. But you didn’t know how he would move.
Jack took the vial, pouring the rest of the contents over himself as well as upon your folds. He slipped it inside you with his fingers, gently stocking the fire there to burn even hotter.
“Please-” the word slipped from your lips as a desperate plea. “I need you now.”
Jack pressed his finger onto your lips and then your tongue. “Don’t worry. You have me.” He then slowly, achingly, pressed back inside you. Jack took his time to admire how you stretched for him, swallowed him. He put his hand over your belly and smirked.
“That’s it,” he moaned. “This old bone still feels young, doesn’t it?” His hips pressed him deeper, where his cold met your fire.
You cried out, muffled by his fingers in your mouth.
“There’s the secret,” he whispered to you. “I could not shake my slumber without this.” He started with soft strokes. He was slow, studying, taking his fingers from your tongue and trailing them all over your body.
“If I could make winter eternal, and please all the maidens and gentlemen of this village, trust me, I would.” He chuckled, with a brilliant smile on his lips. “I am addicted to intimacy. The closeness that comes with the cold.” The slow, soft strokes were becoming deeper.
“Do you remember Mikkel?” You whimpered.
Jack’s eyes shone. “Of course I do. I remember all my Wakers.”
“He wants to see you again. With me.” Those words urged on his thrusts. A memory, perhaps, that drove his lust to be stated faster.
“I would love that.” Jack’s breath began filling the room with snow and fog. “It wouldn’t be the first time,” he laughed.
The fire tincture was burning through your whole body. The surrounding snow turned to steam before even touching your skin.
“I’ll take you both. I’ll watch you take each other.” Jack growled as his affection turned powerful. “My Wakers-”
The heat and ice from you both turned into ice-cold waters. It bubbled over your head, drowning you. The intensity throbbed through your whole body, aching your limbs, curling your toes.
You opened your eyes, gasping out loud as you shot out of bed.
“Oh good, I can close the lake.” It was the woman from before, flipping through a book she dropped onto the table.
“What?” You gasped.
“Jack’s out and about now. Good job.” The woman stepped out of her house and into the snow, chucking something onto the lake’s surface.
“How did I get here?” You yelped.
“Jack always takes care of his Wakers.” The woman huffed as she sat back down at her table. “Enjoy it.”
You got out of bed and stared out the window as snow fell. A smile grew on your lips as Jack’s cold seed seeped down your leg.
“I will.”
