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"Go forth!" The wizard shouted as her counterspell crashed into the shimmering wall of the lich's magical barrier. "Go forth and slay the evil!" Her cry was met by motion from the paladin, swift and fierce. Even the brief hole she could make was enough for the brave knight to slip inside, sword high and blazing with divine power as he invoked the mighty name of-

Alex flipped the page in her book, eyes darting from word to word in terrified suspense! In one way or another those brave adventurers had been in pursuit of the lich since the very first book in the series, before they'd even known that the evil necromancer was behind the insect plague, the zombies, everything! She had to know if they'd succeed, if they'd finally slay that ancient sorcerer and right the wrongs he'd put upon the land!

"Alexander?" A deep voice on a far less noble quest called out. The invocation of her full name, her old name, hurt in the same way that the wizard from her books felt when she sensed that deep magic that should have been long forgotten. A dead name resurrected like a corpse from a grave.

"Yes Father? I'm in the horse stables." Atop a bale of hay covered with a thick blanket, perched in the sunniest corner of the building. It was her favorite spot to read and to relax. Away from her responsibilities, her siblings, her father. Among the creatures she loved to care for. "And I told you to please call me Alex."

Alex still wasn't quite what she preferred, but even this request had been a struggle. She pulled her clothes up to make sure that her chest and hips were fully covered in those baggy folds of loose-fitting fabric. It was warm this time of year, sweltering when under extra garb, but that discomfort was far preferable to her father knowing what she'd done with her body. "Alex, sorry." Her father corrected himself. "Is it really that different, boy?" She cringed.

"It makes me feel better, alright? Besides, you're Alexander! This way no one has to call me Junior." Junior was almost as bad as Alexander, but the real benefit was in how that explanation covered for her real reasons. "Is something the matter?"

Her father's head poked around the corner, knowing where to expect her. He narrowed his eyes, and for a moment Alex grabbed at her overclothes, pulling them even tighter against an odd chill. He hadn't seen her budding body, had he? Found her razors? Or worst of all, the still that she used to make her treatments from the urine of their pregnant mares? "I thought I told you to not spend so much time reading those stories!" He chided. Alex's whole body relaxed as he did. This she could handle.

"Sorry Sir. I'd finished cleaning the stables, so I was taking a moment before I helped mother with supper. Is there something you'd like me to do?" She asked, hopping down from her sunny perch to the flattened dirt of the barn's floor. She didn't mind standing next to him so much, his taller and thicker frame always made her feel much more like a daughter than... what he saw her as.

"I'd like..." he held out a hand, into which Alex sheepishly deposited the slim, leather-bound volume, "If you'd stop spending so much time on flights of fancy." He flipped it open, pretending to look at the words.

"It's about the Heroic Quintet," she confirmed. He had fewer years of schooling than she'd had, much longer in the past. Alex had taken over reading the various contracts they received from their Lord even before her schooling had finished, which had left him even more out of practice. She enjoyed reading, something he could hardly fathom.

"Of course it is." He sighed. "I hate to be the one to tell ye this, but..."

"But we ain't the heroic type here," she finished his sentence, dropping her voice an octave to imitate him. "I know Dad. It's just a nice fantasy to escape to."

He chuckled, clapping her on the back hard. "Come now Alexander. What could you ever have to escape from, son?"

Alex smiled like she loved the knife in her gut.

---

By torchlight Alex worked, carefully pouring the odorous liquid through the heated copper tubes that she'd taken from Old Man Miller while he was passed out drunk. She'd learned about this technique from another book, one of the ones she wouldn't have been caught dead holding when her father came looking. It had told of an ancient technique, wherein by boiling the water off she could make it more concentrated, into a more potent and safer solution. The book had claimed it to contain "concentrated femininity", and from how her body had grown since she'd started making it she couldn't argue with the results. Her skin was now soft as the finest cotton, her nipples now hardened against so much as a brush of her clothes, there were even sensitive nubs of breasts poking from her form! It really was helping her grow into something she wanted to be.

That didn't make it any less disgusting to make though. Nor did it help with the practical side of collecting the stuff in the first place. Every ounce that she could get without suspicion was like liquid gold to her. Ironic, given the color. Hence why she slaved over the stuff under the cover of night, careful to never waste a drop. It was the only thing that could separate her from the pituitary development she'd seen befall her brothers, that she could only ever hold back in herself.

"Your results would improve if you moved the other loop further from the heat."

Alex about fell into the fire in shock, scrambling for the kitchen knife she'd brought out with her and brandishing it at the source of the voice. "Who said that!" She yelled. Her throat was so closed with fear and dread that it hardly carried any weight, but she still tried her best to channel strength like she'd read in the stories.

"Not an enemy," came the answer. The voice was hard to place, lilting in a way that Alex had never heard before. There was an edge to it that sounded... off. The accent certainly wasn't local,nor even normal. It made every word through that mouth sound... off. Like it was coming through a tube, or half carried away by the wind. Certainly no one from the small town where she'd grown up sounded like that.

"That's a good start," Alex said, swallowing a bubble in her throat. She realized how much deeper her voice was when she wasn't concentrating and tried to force it back to her preferred range. "Now how about you step into the light?" She still held the knife out, pointing it back and forth even though she had little idea of where the threat was actually from.

A tall, pale figure came into view across the fire from her in a direction that Alex could have sworn the voice hadn't been originating. He was slender, too slender. His limbs were long and graceful, and his skin reflected the firelight like expensive porcelain. "Awfully sorry to give you a fright." He said, dipping into a fluid curtesy. Not a bow, even though he seemed male. "But I'm not here to hurt you. I'm here to make you an offer."

Alex looked him up and down, trying to figure out what was wrong with him. There was... something off here. Maybe not something she'd ever seen, but something she remembered. Something from the back of her mind, from tales far older than those she read out of books. "You're... you're fae."

He smiled, flashing teeth so white and sharp they could have passed for sterling daggers. "Oh, very good! I knew there was a reason for me to come here tonight. But you are off in a matter of scale. May I have your name?"

A coldness washed through the clearing at that question that defied the stoked fire at its center. She knew this trick. She knew better than this trick. "No. You may call me Alex though. What do you mean a matter of scale?" Alex realized she was still holding up her knife, but given what he'd already told her it would be about as useful as a toothpick against a stone golem. Slowly, as a sign of respect, Alex set the knife aside, making sure the being across from her saw it happen.

He took a step forward, bringing more of the light on him and making Alex wish for a brief moment that she had kept it, regardless of its usefulness. The cold seemed to intensify too, making the lighter clothes that Alex was wearing feel like nothing at all. Her newly-sensitive nipples perked up against the top she was wearing, and she hoped he couldn't see her body's reaction.

Something told her that even full winter clothes wouldn't have hindered his vision.

"Of course Alex. Thank you for having my company on this fine night. I merely mean to say that I am no mere fae. Common fae would be my subjects. I am... older." Again he curtseyed, not bowing. Graceful enough to put a queen to shame, as if he didn't just tell her that he wielded more power than her lord's lord.

She curtseyed back, though her male clothes and lack of practice made it a decidedly less elegant affair. "That... it's an honor Sir! Lord. Lord Sir. What may I call you, and to what do I owe the... pleasure?" It felt awkward to call it a pleasure, but unlike when she was reading her stories she didn't have time to go back and pick the perfect word. She just hoped he wouldn't take offense.

"Oh, the pleasure is all mine!" He used the same word as her, but something about how he said it made it feel much so much more intrusive. "You may call me Lord Sarma, your majesty, or simply Sir. I'm here to make you an offer."

A chill wind lashed through Alex's clothes, making her take another step towards the fire, and towards him by extension. "What kind of an offer, your majesty?" She knew that fae deals were usually more than they appeared. She knew it was usually a bad idea to take them, even if they sounded good. She also knew that rejecting him before he had a chance to offer would be rude, and being rude to a fae was even worse than accepting their deals.

He took a step forward in turn. His height was even more striking up close, accentuated by how his pale features caught the light of the fire. He made Alex feel so small in spite of his slender frame. "I can offer you what you most desire. Power. Adventure. Freedom. All in exchange for just a few favors."

Alex frowned slightly, looking up at him. She did want those things, but they weren't exactly her first or foremost wishes. Maybe she could work with this. Setting her expression, she probed. "You can sense my desires then, Sir?" She dipped that last word in the same honey that he seemed so fond of when trying to appeal to her. Let her collar lower even though it was so cold.

His smile was shark-like. There was blood in the water, and he sensed it. "There is need coming off of you in waves, darling mortal. You read stories of adventure in the day, you brew potions in the night. A hunger for more is common among humans but you, you practically exude it. Any fae worth their magic could tell. Any patron with a goal to accomplish could see your want. Not to denigrate, but you are too late to start studying as a wizard. Too slight to be a fighter. Not gifted to be a sorcerer, or blessed to be a cleric. Only I offer you a path." Lord Sarma licked his lips. Alex could have sworn that he was drooling.

"You could help me, Sir?" Alex wasn't sure at first, but with every sentence it seemed more certain that the fae really didn't know of her... condition. Perhaps determining the cause of desire was more detailed than he could sense, or maybe her desire was so different from a standard seeker of power that he couldn't tell its true source. She wanted to adventure of course, but if she could get something more personal from this, if she could forgo the concoctions and the hiding behind baggy clothes and the lies in favor of having a body she'd like to be in, in favor of being herself... that would change everything! "You could give me the power, the ability, the body to realize my desires?"

"In exchange for some favors from time to time, yes. You would be my ward as well as my agent, darling." The fae lord reached across the fire that was still serving as a barrier between them, and the cold grew more and more intense as he approached. Every bone in her body rebelled and told her to move, to run, but she forced them down in the face of that mounting frigidity. She'd felt winters where the temperature alone made her cheeks hurt, and this rivaled that but with a headwind added. Against her more sensitive skin she could practically feel the frost take hold. But just as she was about to break, about to pull away, he touched her. Near the top of her cheek, a soft and warm finger brushed against Alex's face, sliding one of her rough black curls behind her ear. Leaving a trail of warmth in its wake. "Sharing my power would serve my ends as well as yours." He assured her as their eyes met. Hers brown and earthen, his as light and frigid as ice. His presence was so overwhelmingly frosty, but touching him... touching him brought her warmth. It made her want to get closer. His tantalizing voice was almost a whisper. "Whatever you need."

Alex smiled an entirely-too-confident smile for any human dealing with a fae, much less an arch-fae. She could see how he loved that. The girl reached up to his hand on her face, fighting through the cold until she could put her palm on him there and feel the flood of warmth that contact gave. She gently guided him until his entire hand was against her cheek instead of merely a finger. The whole time she felt like she was guiding a tiger into her home, and she had to force a demure expression onto her face. A face he could so easily grasp in those too-long fingers. "And how, my Lord?" She asked, fingers stroking over the pale skin of his fingers, his wrist. "Would I accept?"

An intense icy wind blew through the clearing, sending a shower of sparks from the ill-tended fire. The smile on Lord Sarma's face split wider, further towards his cheeks than any human's mouth could have. "Oh that part is simple. You swear your fealty, we swap three fluids, and you sign. Not necessarily in that precise order." His fingers slid lower, from her cheek down to her neck. With how long they were he could have practically wrapped them entirely around her throat with only one hand. A thought that should have inspired more fear in the human girl than it perhaps did. Truth be told she felt a bigger wave of fear from the thought of him feeling her Adam's Apple than she did from him closing off her air.

"Then if you will Sir, guide me. Please." Alex's words were soft, her voice an invitation rather than an order. She felt him reaching up with his other hand through the cold it emitted as much as she saw him raising it, holding it up and out in a silent invitation for her to do the same. When he held that pose and she could inspect it plainly, it became painfully obvious how inhumanly long those digits looked. Next to her slightly stubby tan fingers his icy pale skin only looked that much more wrong.

He brought his middle finger down, the rest following like he was making a loose fist. That longest, middle finger rested lightly at the base of his palm, where a divinator would have read the line of life as starting. Alex wasn't sure what he was doing until that finger flashed upward, tearing into his palm as it did. Blood, far too dark even in the pale firelight, drooled from the wound down his wrist. Thick like molasses in the cold.

Alex realized she was staring and looked back towards the Faerie Lord's eyes, only for him to subtly direct her back to his hand, now again raised with palm facing her. She glanced back at him before raising hers in the same way, moving it closer to his now-bleeding hand. Close enough that he could reach out with the same middle finger and slice into her palm in the same place. Top to bottom instead of bottom to top, but well-matched enough that when they met palm-to-palm the cuts matched precisely. A flash of light and a swirl of snowflakes blew from where they touched, pieces of frozen precipitation sizzling against the hot metal of the still and burning logs beneath them.

In spite of the cold that swirled from him, the aura that made the ground around them frost over and steam near the fire, wherever Alex touched felt warm. More than that, his touch spread warmth into her body, making her want to touch him more. To press her body against him, so that no part of her would still be exposed to the unseasonal frigidity.

"That is the first fluid." Lord Sarma whispered. "The second is easier." Alex looked on for another hint on what to do. "And more fun."

Before she could say a word of questioning he was already leaning in, his height forcing her to look up at him as he looked down. The approaching fae parted his mouth slightly, and Alex knew she was supposed to do the same. To let him in. Yet a very human part of her rebelled as she saw those sharpened predatory teeth gleaming in the firelight as they approached her. His mouth met hers still closed and resistant. She was squirming in his grasp as he turned her bleeding hand out and down until it met her side.

The hand on her neck shifted from the side to the back, fingernails lightly pricking against sensitive skin as he brought her closer to his questing mouth through gentle but insistent force. His other hand was still on hers, but it was on her rear now, pulling her closer to him there too. They'd only done one of the five parts required of the ritual and already he was grabbing her, controlling her. Anywhere he touched did feel relief from the chill of his presence, but the possessiveness of his long limbs felt like a spider wrapped around a fly, not keen on letting her go. Least of all was that questing tongue giving up.

Alex opened her mouth.

Immediately his tongue pressed inside, followed by a flood of warmth that suffused her whole body. Out of the corner of her eyes she saw the clearing illuminate with that same flash of magic and swirl of snowflakes that had accompanied her bleeding palm meeting his, and she realized that this must be the second fluid.

So this is what he thought was fun. Probing her mouth, her throat, making her gag on his tongue. He was tasting her in the way a predator would. She didn't know if she could have squirmed away if she had tried between the hands on her neck and rear, and with how they felt like they were the only things keeping her from frostbite she didn't know if she wanted to.

A particularly harsh gag around his tongue knocked her out of that reverie in time to notice that his hand on her rear was questing up, sliding under her shirt as he did. His nails were long and sharp, thin little trails digging into her soft back all the way up to her shoulder blades, where they started to come around. Alex whined onto his tongue, whimpering softly as they first found sensitive mounds, then her icicle-hard nipples atop them.

A single, frigid nail circled that bud, making her realize just how much more sensitive it was now. She'd played with them herself, felt how they snagged on rough fabrics, but nothing had come that she didn't expect, that she wasn't in control of. When the sensation was coming from another... it was clear she'd never felt anything like it.

Desperate, simpering little cries were clogged by the tongue in her throat. Lord Sarma's grip on the back of Alex's neck tightened, and it took a moment for her to realize the reason for that wasn't his possessiveness, but the weakness in her knees.

The icy arch-fae pulled back, chuckling. "My my, a sensitive little mortal specimen, aren't we?" He asked his question while those fingers and nails of his still teased at poor Alex's breasts.

"I..." she started to voice an objection before realizing that the usual reasons she had to lie weren't important here. Her brothers or her fathers seeing her hips getting wider and her breasts expanding would have led to uncomfortable questions. For him though, she'd insist on its normality. "Yes Sir."

"Good. I like my pets reactive. Keeps things interesting." He paused for a moment, almost as if he expected a response to calling her his pet. When nothing came but the same soft panting though, he relented. The Faerie Lord still smiled, but released her onto her own shaky feet. "Before we go further though, I will have to test you. Strip."

The icy wave that rushed through the clearing made Alex aware just how much her fire had burned down. Scarcely a blaze still burned below the still, yet even with light barely enough to read writing the Arch-Fae stood out in stark white. He was bigger than her. Stronger than her. Infinitely quicker and more magically capable. It wasn't like her clothes would have helped her stand a chance, but to dispense of them entirely was...

It was...

To surrender.

Alex reached for her shirt's button, looking into the frigid blue of Lord Sarma's eyes as she did. The expression on his face grew into a wider smile with every button she removed, until the last came away and her entire front was revealed to him.

Her belly, slightly rounded from a good harvest, but ribs still visible from the prior year's poor one. The scar along her side gained from falling off a spirited horse that would later be sent to a duke after she'd trained it. The tits that she thought too pointy, too marred by stretch marks to pass for those of a woman by birth instead of by will. This was the moment it would be kind to reject her, before her more profound shame was revealed.

The fae's smile lessened as she waited, and for a moment she was sure that he was about to reject her out of hand. A judging stare bore down on her. "It was a simple order. Strip." The harsh tone jostled her into action, the human girl reaching for her belt, pulling it aside. Her clothes fell. This was it. This was the end.

In the pale firelight her tan legs stood, branching from wide hips into firm muscles trained from years of equestrianism. Center among it all though was what she dreaded, what she feared. A shaft standing firm and at attention, even drooling from what the fae lord had already done with her.

Lord Sarma tilted his head, walking around the fire until he was at her side. The Arch-Fae circled her body, inspecting it from all angles as she awaited his judgment, his wrath. Instead came a question. "You are... human, yes?" He reached for the top of her ears, trailing a finger over the round things like he expected to find an illusion protecting a secret elven or tiefling identity. "And humans come in two varieties, genders I think you call them, right?"

"Well... generally?" Alex answered. She'd expected more wrath at being tricked, not this genuine confusion, this... interest. He seemed to be holding the cold at bay too, or she was sure she'd have frozen to death by now. Knowing how warm his touch was she still wanted to press against him, but nowhere near as urgently. "I... well I am just... I was born..." She sighed. This was always hard to explain. "I am following the tradition of the Tigeris Warriors, in changing my body to match my soul, Sir. That is the intent of this potion. And... and something I was hoping to gain in our deal."

The Lord of the Winter Court considered this for a moment, still circling around her slowly, eyes devouring every inch of her naked body. He reached a hand toward the still, a single finger touching the boiling liquid and making frost bloom across its surface. He brought it up to his lips and tasted, considering for a moment. Then recognition dawned on his face. Then a grin. Then that same predatory delight as before. "Ah, I understand. This is a term easy to arrange! It does make the third transfer harder... but not significantly."

Alex blinked in surprise. At the grace with which he'd taken the news, at the revelation that she could get her greatest desire through magic, and at the fact that she'd just watched an arch-fae taste horse piss. "I... if you could then I would be forever in your service, Sir."

"Oh, darling. That is EXACTLY what I want to hear." Lord Sarma raised himself up to his full height in front of her, his unearthly frame again towering over her as his smile regained all of the vigor, all of the toothiness of earlier. "Now, are you ready to accept me?"

Those last two words, they weren't right. It was no strange accent, nothing that minor. It was a different language, a language steeped in magic older than her family's line. The young girl shivered, feeling goosebumps on her skin that not even the sharpest cold had yet made her feel. "Yes, Sir." She answered in the same tongue. One she'd never spoken or even heard pouring from her with all the ease of the common she'd been speaking all her life.

Around her the light trail of swirling snow falling from the Faerie Lord intensified into a gust of white, and as she blinked the precipitation from her eyes she was somewhere else. A building that looked to be made of pure marble, with a lavish imprint of some translucent aqua stone she didn't recognize. As the human farmgirl looked around though she saw the way that it refracted light, saw the driven purity of the rest of the stone and realized something.

It wasn't stone. It was snow.

An entire building, taller to the ceiling than even the spire of the biggest chapel she'd ever seen before, all made from frozen water. It was... it was impossible.

Just like her not being cold was. The Fae Lord's paleness finally matched his surroundings, so she hardly noticed his approach until he poked a single, unnaturally sharp fingernail into her chest, highlighting a mark in that same clear aqua as the trim around her.

"This keeps you from growing cold. It is the first of my gifts, and one you will carry even if you choose to leave now. Do you?"

Alex's mind took a moment to catch up. This was... this was more than she was ready for. More than she was sure she wanted. "I do, Sir." She answered.

His single finger turned into a shove, pushing her backwards onto a bed covered in some thick white fur of a beast she'd never heard of. She'd hardly have a chance to consider it, her attention drawn to the fae lord climbing over her with the swiftness and silence of a wraith.

She hadn't seen him undress, but he was now, and the way his arms pressed into the soft fur on either side of her was reminiscent of a frosted cage. No longer could Alex feel the ambient cold pouring from him, but his warmth against her skin was still a salve against a burn she knew she should have felt. The relief, the warmth was still there even if the cold wasn't.

And... and she was under the naked Fae Lord. His frame was as wiry as it was slender, not an ounce of body fat in excess. She knew that among the nobles a lithe frame was seen as desirable, but this was beyond even that. His inhumanity had been hidden before, but now it was all she could see. From his pupils, too large to be natural, to his extremities that all slimmed down to razor-sharp points to his...

Well that seemed more in line. Slender sure, and longer than most human's by at least a few good inches. But proportionally it looked right on him. It jutted out far more rigidly than hers too.

The fae's shaft pointed almost accusingly towards her, his every heartbeat making it pulse. She could feel his breath on her ear, the only remaining feeling of cold over her body. She was underneath him. Beneath him.

She WAS his.

"Are you ready?" He asked in a language that she again couldn't have been able to understand.

"Yes, Sir." Came her response in the same tongue. She'd only ever read about this before, but she knew that she was ready to feel. Knew that she wanted him. Even if it came with conditions. No, especially if it came with conditions.

Lord Sarma reached one of those imprisoning hands up from her side to his mouth, draping his long, pointed tongue along his palm. Alex noted that it was the same palm that he'd cut for their first exchange of fluids, yet that previously open wound was now hardly a scratch. His spit was added to the remaining blood there, swirling into it as he brought it down to his cock.

He was already hard, but he still rubbed up and down a few times, preparing himself for what was next. That slight tinge of red stood out against his pale skin, and Alex could feel his breathing pick up in pace. He was an immortal being, beyond anything she'd ever experienced, ever met. He was more powerful than all but the gods above. He was not human, nor of this realm, but he was still excited. Panting. Practically drooling over her little mortal from.

Alex felt her own heart beat faster in response, but for entirely different reasons. He was excited to be the predator, taking her body, her soul, her everything to devour to his ends.

She was excited to be the prey.

Alex raised her hips, trying to give him a better angle on her rear. She was even less informed on this than on most things carnal, most of what she knew coming from lewd jokes at the expense of someone deemed too affectionate, too effeminate. They were intended to be insults, yet she'd listened. She'd wanted.

And now she would feel it.

Lord Sarma moved forward, body arching with more ease than should have been possible. His tip prodded her rear hole, and she could feel that warmth blossoming from it. She could feel her body relaxing.

"Good girl," in her language. Then he pushed inside.

Alex cried out, first in pain. It was slender, but still so much MORE than she was ready for. The way it stretched her, the way it filled her was just too much! She whined, she bit her lip. She whimpered. She squirmed. And with every move she made, everything she did, it became easier. Lord Sarma stayed above her, frozen like one of the statues in his hall as she adjusted, waiting for her to relax. He made sure that no further blood of hers would spill today, none beyond that which the ritual required from her palm.

Slowly she calmed her breathing, released the tension she was holding. Her eyes reopened to that wintry scene before her, with the arctic blue of the Faerie Lord's eyes staring back down. She felt embarrassed at her entirely human reaction, looking aside for a moment. He'd be disappointed. A real woman would have been able to take him much more easily, she told herself.

He reached towards her chin, steering her to look back up at him. "Are you alright?" He asked, again in her native tongue.

Alex nodded.

"Would you like me to continue?"

It was a loaded question. While he was towering over her, half-buried in her ass, while her own dick throbbed uselessly in the open air. He knew her answer.

"Please, Sir."

Lord Sarma smiled. Something she knew damn well meant trouble for her. But it was trouble she wanted. The Fae pressed himself deeper into her, inch after inch of slender cock making the human girl squirm beneath him. It hadn't LOOKED that impressive when it was compared to his frame, but feeling it now she realized that compared to her human size it was mighty long. She'd never felt anything so deep, and that did have its benefits.

"Ah!" Alex cried as he pressed something inside of her that made her own cock drip a pearly little bead of cloudy liquid. She'd... she'd never felt anything like that before. Most of her experiences with sexuality had been at her own hands, toying with her anatomy from the front. It had felt physically good in the moment, but left her confused and unhappy. This was coming from an entirely different source and felt so much more right!

"That's a good girl," he whispered into her ear, the movement of his whole body not seeming to cause any strain in his voice. Like he was above it all, even as it was his cock that was drilling into her and causing her reactions. "Just relax, surrender. Give in. Give in to me."

She didn't know if it was advice for her on a physical or spiritual level, but she didn't care. She wanted this. She NEEDED this. He was her ticket not only to greatness, but to who she wanted to be. And he was going to make her feel good as he did it. His cock was going to pull out and push back in over that same spot, his hand on her chin was going to make her look up into his not-human face, his thighs were going to push hers apart to spread her legs, his teeth were going to press against her sensitive neck, she was going to...

"Oh, fuck!" Again the word spilled out in some unknown language, HIS language. The Lord above her grinned, liking what he heard, and what he saw. Every thrust made her feel a wave of warmth first, but then something followed. Power.

She didn't even care that it was entering through his cock.

Lord Sarma was pressing back and forth even faster now, sliding in and out at a pace that was just a bit more than Alex could have handled. She reached up around the immortal lord, her fingers digging into his back and pulling him close with what little strength her mortal body would muster. She hadn't expected him to move, but the fact that it felt like pushing on a bronze statue was still a surprise. He was beyond her ability to influence. He was beyond her.

Yet he was IN her. He was fucking her. He was making her wrap her legs around his thighs to try to keep him close, he was knocking the ability to think clearly out of her with every thrust.

"L-Lord, please!" She whimpered, their bellies coated with the dripped arousal that he'd forced from her tip with every thrust. The human girl bit her lower lip, knowing she couldn't take much more.

"Swear yourself." He spoke down to her, voice as calm and firm as a mountain in spite of the pace at which he took her. "Swear yourself to me."

Dark power swirled among those words. Something about them wasn't just older than her, it was older than the trees, older THAN trees. They were words of sealing, words of power. Words of finality.

"I swear!" She cried, knowing the consequences and welcoming them. "I swear myself to you, my lord!"

The sound of a vast piece of ice cracking came so loud and pure that Alex opened her eyes, briefly worried that the frozen structure they were in was going to fall. There was no sign of a fracture though, nothing but solid ice around her and solid body above her. "GOOD girl," he intoned, every rock into her body knocking those briefly-held fears further from her mind. Knocking everything from her mind. He'd needed her to consciously think for that declaration, but now that she'd made it the pace picked up. Now he had no need for her to be in control of her faculties.

There was still no visible sign of strain or effort in his body, but if one looked closely enough they could see the NEED. They could see how he gripped her more tightly, how he rammed in deeper and faster. If one really peered close they could see him gritting his teeth, this Lord of the Winter lost in burying his cock into his prey, taking his pleasure from her. For a brief moment the way that he was trying to tease her with long, complete thrusts was forgotten, subsumed into his own desperation to use her, to get off.

That was what pushed her over the edge.

Alex cried out, her tan heels digging into the bone-white back of her new patron as she lost herself in the moment. Lord Sarma could feel how her muscles squeezed on him, inside and out. The way she pulled him close so she'd have something to feel against her, even kindly allowing it so that he could feel the way her insides rippled along his member. He was doing it purely for her sake of course, and to complete the ritual. Her third fluid spilled from her shaft in pathetic little squirts, the milky liquid barely potent enough to count.

Of course it was for her sake that he held himself in as she came, feeling her the whole while. It couldn't have been for him and his pleasure. He was above such things. When he shoved himself in her orgasming ass to take advantage of how her body twitched around him, how her warmth engulfed him in a wave of honesty and desire, it was purely for ritual purposes. Of course the great Lord Sarma wouldn't have found himself needy for how a mortal's ass would make him cum inside of it. He was merely spilling his load for the sake of the third fluid of the ritual.

He was glad that no one would question him on those facts, as even an ancient fae like himself would have had trouble avoiding the truth he was forced to tell.

The great Lord was hardly more able to speak than the human in spite of her far more visible strain from their coupling. The fact that she was so incapacitated by the intensity of her pleasure gave Sarma some time to recover as well, his cock still spasming inside of her as aftershocks rolled back and forth between the coupled pair.

He was able to recover more quickly, smiling down at her while holding himself inside as if he'd been impervious and unaffected the entire time. To Alex it might as well have been true. "That," he announced, "was the third and final fluid. All that remains is to sign the written contract now."

Alex was still panting beneath him. That was... unlike anything she'd ever experienced. And better by far. "Y-yes Sir," she gasped, her legs falling from his back. She was sweating, she realized, which felt absurd given her arctic surroundings. A laugh started in her chest, pouring out of her at the whole situation. She, a girl born with none of the usual graces, had somehow ended up in the house of a being more powerful than the highest king, even taking him without having to bear his young or be his courtesan. In fact she was GAINING from this arrangement! And she hadn't even had breasts but a few months ago!

Lord Sarma cocked his head at her mirthful reaction. "Is something humorous?" He asked his newest agent.

Alex let the laugh play out, but shook her head. "No Sir. Well, not in that way. There are just... my body is overwhelmed at the moment. In a good way." She thought for a moment about herself. About her future. "So, my body's changes will continue, Sir?"

The fae nodded. "It's rather simple really. Much more straightforward than giving the sort of arcane power you'll access. You can even use illusory magic if something is changing too slowly of its own accord." He pulled himself from her rear, his seed spilling from her onto the bed.

She yipped beneath him, wiggling her body to get a feel for it now that he was out. The tan girl took a breath, then spoke again. "In that case, I would like to give you one more thing, my lord."

"Oh?" The fae lord raised an eyebrow, unable to hide his interest at what the mortal girl might offer him. "What's that?"

It was Alex's turn to smile in a way most malicious. "Do you recall the first thing you asked me, Sir?"

Fae had perfect recollection. Events a thousand years past were just as clear as that which had just occurred. "Of course. May I have your name?" Power crackled in the air. The inanimate hairs of the fur beneath them rose like they held a charge.

"Alexander," she said. "Or Alex for short."

The Fae Lord above her looked drunk with delight. "Oh, thank you! And what," he reached a hand to stroke her chin, turning her to look him in the eyes. Eyes glowing with wretched power. "Shall I call you?"

"Allie," Allie answered, never more confident of a thing in her life.