A Cold Day in Hell (An Erotic Paranormal Short Story)

by Deni D'Amore

  A Cold Day in Hell

  Deni D’Amore

  Driving.

  That was the last thing Dara could remember. Driving down I-10, whizzing past slowpokes, jerks, assholes, and other morning commuters. Smoothing her sleek ombre hair in the rearview mirror, applying Cashmere Rioja to her lips. Glancing down to make sure her boobs were shown to best advantage in her equally red top. Looking up to see the back end of a semi rushing up much too fast.

  Then...nothing.

  Now here she was, standing inside a cave of ice. An arctic wind shrieked through it, cutting right through her semi-sheer Valentino blouse and second-skin black skirt. Her sky-high heels offered no warmth, and she struggled to keep from sprawling on the icy floor.

  "H-hello!!" she called through chattering teeth, but the sound only echoed back from the walls, mocking her.

  Silence again. Then a pile of icy stalagmites began to shift and move. As an L.A. native, her first thought was an earthquake. It grew and stretched, and she realized with mounting disbelief that it was…well, sort of alive.

  The monstrosity slowly erected itself before her, reaching a height of nearly eight feet. It was somewhat human in appearance, massive and white, translucent in places, with foot-long spears of ice for fingers. There was no hair, just a mass of hoarfrost frozen about its head. The eyes were an unnerving shade of gray-white that looked rather blind, but when the creature spoke, Dara realized they saw quite well.

  Its stiff bow was mocking and formal. "Welcome to Hell. Nice Fendis.” The rasp of the voice was like the grating boom of glaciers colliding.

  "Wh-what? What are you talking about?" Her normal tone, practiced and sultry, came out as a squeak. This must be a nightmare. Wake up, damnit. She pinched her arm. It left a red weal, but the demon remained, staring at her with chilly contempt.

  "Hell. You died on the freeway in an accident. You're dead. This is your own personal Hell."

  Dara glanced around in confusion. "I thought Hell was hot. Fire and brimstone. Roasting over fires."

  The demon looked bored. "Another one who’s seen too many movies. We make our own Hells. This is yours."

  Okay, I'll go with this weird-ass dream. Let my analyst figure it out. "Why is my Hell cold?”

  "Because you were a cold-hearted, calculating cockteaser in your life. You took delight in tantalizing and never following through. Consider your current clothing, selected for a day of what you would consider work." The demon gestured at her skimpy outfit with a frosty claw.

  "You enjoyed tormenting men and women, young and old, stranger and friend. It’s always been about you and your ego, the power you could collect. Your heart was cold, your thoughts were cold, your cunt was cold. This is your reward."

  Her trembling increased as the wind chilled her body. What she still thought of as a dream was too ridiculous for her to feel real fear yet. But this is going to cost a fortune in therapy, she thought unhappily. "So I’ll starve and freeze as punishment?"

  "Hardly. You can't die in the traditional sense. That's already happened."

  “Was I…I mean, did I…” Her voice trailed off. The glazed, icy eyes of the demon made the question unthinkable to ask. He smiled with slow malice, clearly able to guess or read her mind.

  “No. You didn’t look the least bit sexy after the accident. No one thought what a shame it was that such a gorgeous girl met such an untimely end. It was a closed-casket funeral. It was also sparsely attended. Mostly by those who didn’t know enough about you to realize how little you cared about them.”

  Dara flushed in spite of the cold. The flat, emotionless tone of the creature hinted it wouldn’t bother with a lie, good or bad. It simply stated what was, without human niceties.

  “But I know Kate was there. She’s my best friend. She’d never let me down even though – even though –“

  “Even though you were sleeping with her husband?” The demon snickered quietly at her expression. “You have no secrets here. She came because she still doesn’t know, thought a secret part of her wonders. The weak-minded male who fell into your snares didn’t tell her.”

  It paused, and the icy eyes seemed to be looking into a distance future. “In fact, he never will tell her, and she will at least be spared knowing how you both betrayed her. The husband thinks he got off lucky. He learned nothing and will do this again and again.” The splintered teeth gleamed in an icy smile. “Of course, he doesn’t realize that we’re holding a special place for him here, when the time is right.”

  Dream or not, she was ready for this to end. She screamed to wake herself, but it only echoed shrilly through the bowels of the cave. She pinched her arm again, feeling a flare of true pain. She remained where she was, shivering and eyeing the beast in front of her.

  The demon behaved as though the scream hadn’t happened. "Your wrongs must be righted before you can ever hope to leave Hell. A few people do leave. It only seems like forever."

  "H-how do I right my wrongs? I don't understand..."

  The smile widened, exposing rows of chipped and splintered ice. "You will."

  Reaching out with razored claws, it sliced away the thin clothes she wore. They fell in pieces on the ice, garish blobs of color on monotone gray. No underwear. She was naked in her heels, shivering as her nipples contracted into tight, pale pink caps on her generous rounded breasts.

  The demon gripped her arm and propelled her to the other side of the cave, to a stalagmite of ice that rose up from the floor. It picked her up, lifting her weightlessly over its head. She screamed, certain she was about to be skewered. Instead, it lowered her to straddle the ice tower. With the height of her heels, the frozen tip of the stalagmite just brushed her shaved pubic mound.

  She looked down at it, realizing with growing terror that it wasn't just random ice. It was a frozen dildo that rose up from the floor, some three feet of it, a full six inches around from top to bottom.

  She looked at the demon in wordless horror.

  "Since you were cold and wouldn't fuck those you teased, your punishment is to be fucked by the very coldness you created. When the ice is gone, you may stand a chance of leaving." The tone was grating, chilly, impassive. There would be no pleading with such a voice.

  "But I'll freeze!" Oh for fuck’s sake, wake up, wake up!

  Another forty-below smirk. "You can't. You aren't alive. It will be somewhat uncomfortable at times, but..." The snow-capped shoulders shrugged. "That's why it's Hell. You can refuse, of course, but then you'll certainly never leave. You might even learn to like it. Who knows?"

  The demon shambled back to its original place, then paused. "A word of advice. Nothing but your cunt will melt the ice. Not your body heat, your breath, your hands. Not even your ass.” It crouched into a pile, giving her a final wintry glance as it settled into silence. In a very short time, there was nothing more than frosty pile of ice to witness her fear.

  Dara shook her head, wondering if the entire conversation had been a hallucination. The hard, unyielding ice still pressed without mercy against her pussy. It felt real enough.

  "You've got to be fucking KIDDING me!" she shrieked to the empty cave. “WAKE UP, YOU CRAZY BITCH, WAKE UP!”

  Silence mocked her again. The cold sank into her like freezing fire, numbing her to the bone, making her wish she could freeze to death and fall into peaceful sleep. But she was either already dead, or this was a dream. Either way, she’d have to see it through to have any hope of ending it. Hell or hallucination made little difference now.

  She spread her legs wider, wincing as the hard ice pressed against her pussy. It was the only thing about her that w
as warm now. The tip became smoother as her deepest heat melted the surface, making it easier to tolerate than the hard-frozen cold when it had first touched her. She tried to slide the tip inside, then gasped and yanked herself up. It felt as though her pussy was being flash-frozen as it touched the ice cock.

  "I can't do this!" she screamed. "This is impossible! You fuckers! It isn't fair!"

  The demon's papery voice whispered into the endless wind. "Then stay in Hell. Forever."

  She jerked herself off the dildo and grabbed up her ruined clothes. She laid them near a boulder with scant protection from the wind, curling into a fetal position to conserve her body’s warmth. She would wake up, eventually. How bad could it be?

  * * * * *

  An eternity later, she had her answer. It was Hell.

  Her hair was frosted. Her body was frigid. The wind never stopped, now filled with hard bits of snow and ice that left stinging cuts on her skin. This couldn’t be a dream. Tears had dried to frost on her face as she accepted that she was dead, really dead. No more sleek little sports cars, no more Fendis, no more Coach, no more rich boyfriends, no more cold champagne and hot fucking. She'd have to at least try, or go through eternity insane.

  She approached the hated phallus again, straddling it, shivering as the awful remembered coldness pressed against her mound. Again the tip grew wetter, warmer, easier to maneuver. She gritted her teeth, pressing it up inside. Her pussy moaned in protest.

  Maybe if I can get hot for this, it won't feel so bad. Orgasms released endorphins, didn’t they? Right now she could use a few painkillers.

  She ran her fingertips over her nipples. They'd been hard since she'd gotten here, and she suspected that as long as she was in this cave, they would stay that way, chips of pink marble on alabaster. She rubbed them hard with her palms, seeing a slight rush of color leak into them. A few light pinches, the way she did when she played with herself in her warm, safe bed. There was zero response.

  She pinched hard, rewarded with a slight sting of pleasure that made the coldness inside her fade by the barest fraction. She kept pinching, watching as they flattened out under the force of her fingers, knowing it should hurt like hell, but too cold to feel it.

  Her hands glided down the chilled length of her body, down to find her clit in front of where the ice dildo was tormenting her. She was surprised to find that it was hard, frozen like her nipples. She pulled at it, half expecting it to snap off like a droplet of ice from a leaf. Instead it warmed and expanded under her touch. Finally, some welcome heat.

  She glanced down again. The ice around the base of the stalagmite had a glassy, mirrored quality she hadn't noticed before. It gave her the perfect angle to see what was happening between her legs. She watched her hands playing with herself, admiring the rosy pinkness, amazed to see how far her fingers were pulling it, stretching her limits.

  The coldness of the ice against her mound chilled the tight little hardness almost as soon as she let it go, but the swelling remained. It might be cold, but like ice, it seemed to expand the colder it got. It was swollen to the size of a large pink grape, making it easier for her fingers to manipulate. Like her nipples, the cold made it able to take more pressure. She squeezed hard, watching it bulge like a tiny water balloon.

  She became aware that getting off was making her hot and wet inside. She squatted over the ice, pushing it into her heat an inch at a time, pinching herself hard to keep the warmth coming. Looking into the mirrored ice made where she was seem less important. It was sexy as hell, pun intended, to watch that big ice cock sliding up inside her, watching it come out gleaming, wet, and…smaller. It was starting to melt, the water easing down the sides in trickles.

  She pumped up and down on the ice, her natural instincts taking over, making it melt faster. Between her legs was cold, so cold, but the punishment she was giving herself had its own dark excitement. She looked down into the ice mirror, watching raptly, the cold and fear put aside.

  A hidden part of her mind admitted to the charge of being a cold-hearted tease. But if Hell knew that much about her, then it also knew that when she did follow through, it was with everything she had. What was the saying? Cold heart, warm cunt? No, that was something else, but she couldn’t remember it now.

  The trickles were running faster now, becoming streams, and she bounced harder, watching how this drove the frosted phallus deeper inside. Her aching clit was swollen to enormous size, sliding between her fingers as she rubbed.

  The spike heels slipped, making her lose her footing on the slick ice. She caught herself, but not before the dildo had driven inside her, right into the most sensitive places deep between her thighs. She screamed in mixed pain and pleasure, feeling how the coldest part of the ice was now pressed against her outer lips, freezing against her flesh.

  She struggled for footing, rubbing with desperation, trying to work herself up enough to get the shaft unstuck. Her other hand came up to her breasts. With a frenzied combination at her breasts and between her legs, there was enough heat to thaw the post away from her lips. She sighed in relief as it slid out of her and became manageable again.

  Uncomfortable as it was, she was turned on beyond belief, bouncing on the ice post, watching it fuck her in the ice's reflection. The cold made it slow to get to the high level of excitement she needed, but it had the curious effect of freezing her pleasure and making it stronger. Maybe her orgasm, when it came, would simply never stop. The thought excited her, and she rode the ice like a pogo stick, squatting and thrusting, watching it fill her, pinching the most sensitive parts of her body into shapes they were never meant to have.

  The warm, sweet tide of her orgasm began deep inside her, swelling under the icy cold, pushing her over the edge. Suddenly she was cumming, stuck in a pleasure wave that wouldn’t stop. She helped the shaft fill her over and over, her screams making the cave walls echo. Melted ice rushed down the post in warm torrents between her legs. She rode ferociously, bucking and screaming until she was hoarse and gasping.

  How long did it last? How was time measured here? She didn’t know. Eventually, the sweet mixture of cold pain and steaming pleasure subsided, leaving her once again cold and alone in the hated cave. Panting and exhausted, she was wet with melted ice and her own juices that quickly became frost on her inner thighs.

  She raised herself gingerly off the dildo. Only a little was gone from its length, but if she stopped now, she'd have to go through the whole warming process again, losing all that work. She sighed, tossed back her frost-matted hair, and took a fresh grip on her body and her courage.

  * * * *

  Dara lay exhausted on the cave's frosted floor. It was done. For time without measure she'd fucked the ice until it was gone. Her thighs ached at the memory of all the squatting and squeezing she'd had to do. The phallus was destroyed, resembling a candle that had melted to a shapeless smear.

  Her poor pussy. Her last glimpse in the ice mirror had showed a frosted slit with an angry red opening that gaped even when she closed her thighs. It was frozen into a state of perpetual invitation, doubtless destroyed forever. But it was done. There was nothing left of the shaft to put inside her.

  She dozed until the ice pile rumbled with a deep and grating crack. Opening exhausted eyes, she watched as the demon manifested itself again, towering and probably terrifying if she’d been able to feel anything. The frost-blind eyes glanced at the ice slick next to her. "Impressive,” it pronounced, with what might have been admiration. “Stand up and let me see you.”

  She crawled to her feet, crotch and nipples throbbing from the constant abuse of riding the ice. In spite of her exhaustion, a ripple of deeper cold ran through her when she saw the odd, stony lust in the demon’s eyes. She had an urge to cover herself, even though it had surely watched every moment of her long, degrading performance.

  "Please, can I be at peace now?” she pleaded, her voice husky from screaming. “I did what you said. I've atoned for my sins."

  The demo
n smiled and shuffled to the wall. Dara stared blankly at the name illuminated on the icy surface: Richard Walters. It meant nothing to her.

  “How very cold your heart was. You don’t even remember him. High school history teacher, junior year. You ruined him.”

  Now she remembered, but dull anger came with the memory. “So I teased him a little! I’m hardly the only one who’s ever done that, and where are those other little bitches in my class who did the same thing? I don’t see them in here.”

  The demon’s smile cooled another hundred degrees. “They aren’t here because their flaunting was largely innocent and did no harm. The naked photo you “accidentally” sent him by text. Remember that? How hard you had to work to get his private number so that accident could happen? So you could make him remember whenever he looked at you after that? That picture was discovered and cost him his marriage, his family, and his career. Eventually his life, at his own hand. Are you satisfied?”

  A flush heated her face, but it brought no comfort. “I-I didn’t know.”

  “Of course you didn’t. You were already on to the next adventure.” The demon deliberately scratched out the name with an icy claw. Within moments the imprint faded, the eternal righting of wrongs.

  Humility. That was the key right now. “I’m sorry. I truly am. I didn’t know how much I was hurting others. I’ve done what you asked. Please let me go, whether that’s to heaven or back to life or just to die. Please. I’m truly sorry.”

  The roar of laughter from her hellish host made her cower. “My dear, you have no idea yet what it is to be sorry. Your damage has been extreme.”

  It gestured to the back of the cave, now illuminated in cold, eldritch light. She saw rows and rows of ice stalks lining the ceiling and floor, like the fangs of some improbable beast.

  "One for each person you harmed. And you have harmed many. We provide straps from the ceiling, of course. How else can you melt the ones on top unless you're upside down? Those are reserved for, shall we say, other openings than you used on this first round."