The Complete Tale Of The Frog King

---Preface---

The story given here in its totality, and many like it, have elsewhere been heavily abridged for the sake of decency, and for the honor of the princesses referred to throughout. With difficulty do such incomplete versions attempt to remain honest to the letter, while leaving so much of each tale untold, as to completely distort the events themselves, making them seem nothing more than silly fairy tales. Here at last, the events of The Frog King are presented in full.

It is advised that you learn the truth here first, before listening to the half-truths put forth in the common telling, if you are not unfortunate enough to have done so already. To study the truth behind a falseness already known, is rewarding and commendable, but it is an experience that can easily be repeated. Only by knowing the truth first, and then comparing with the deception, will you understand in whole, and at once, the meaning behind all that is commonly told, as well as all that is not told.

---Prologue---

Once upon a time there was a prince, eldest among his siblings, and in line to succeed his father, the king, in the rule of a very large kingdom. The prince was lacking in wit, and despite his looming regency, no princess in the kingdom, or in any nearby, would have him. Yet his needs were great, and he therefore stole into the cities disguised as a laborer, in search of whores to satisfy his lust. In this he was assisted by his faithful servant Henry who accompanied the prince in all he did. Faithful Henry, upon finding a recipient worthy of his master's gift, would arrange a meeting in a location best suited to the purpose. Now Henry was very fond of his master, and it was his habit to find buildings and places from which he could observe the ongoing proceedings.

For he could find no greater pleasure than to stroke his own cock in admiration of that of his fair prince. But fearing that the prince, were he to learn of his servant's worship, would cast him from his sight forever, these deeds he kept to himself. Whether through window, or keyhole, or crack in the wall, Henry partook of his delight in silence.

And when the prince would ask him for what reason he remained in attendance at such times, as he would clearly not be called upon, the servant would answer, "My good lord, it is only that to be in the presence of your ecstasy, makes my own heart burst with joy and pleasure." For in saying this, he spoke to his master of his penis, keeping the meaning to himself, and to himself naming his penis 'heart'. "It is indeed only right," thought Henry, "to name that which profits so, as I gaze upon the object of my desire, my heart."

But a day came when Henry faltered, choosing a recipient unworthy of the gift, and in a location unsuited to the purpose. For he happened upon a sorceress in a dark alley, and she bewitched him, seeing his thoughts, so that she became to his eyes what he looked for, the form his master found most pleasing. She appeared as a young blonde woman with smoky blue eyes in a courtly dress of the same color, the skirt long in back, almost too short in front, and which had a tight midsection and a bust that held nearly half of each generous, but not show-stealing breast, high aloft above the corners of separate, pointed cups. Henry inquired of the lady how it was that she made her living, adding, "Mind you, one need not be a specialist to do a job well, and my lord has the silver to make it worth your while."

"Bring your master to me," the sultry woman replied, "and I will provide him with services proper were he the highest prince of the land. Even were he the king's son himself." Henry bid her wait in a nearby stable, and he would run to fetch his prince and bring him to her.

Upon arriving, the prince praised Henry for his hunting prowess as the witch stepped forth into the light. She approached him saying, "You may have me prince, but not before I speak. You should not have ventured so far from your castle without escort. There are in the hidden corners of our city, things unfit for such as yourself." Her voice began to resound as the prince's eyes fixed on hers, "Unsafe things...future king."

The servant tugged at his master's sleeve. "I've made a mistake sir, this one's pure evil! A witch!" But the prince could not withdraw his eyes from the woman's piercing gaze. The sorceress required unbroken eye contact with her subject for the enthrallment to take effect, leaving Henry free to dive behind a near wall, but he remained close enough to hear her pronouncement.

Her voice came from all around, "On the day of your ascendance to the throne you will belong to me." The horses in the stable were side-stepping and nervously shaking their heads. "Your will shall become mine and you shall command only as I command you." The nearby windows began to shake. "Do you hear me eldest son of the king of this great realm? You will be my puppet, and through you I shall rule your kingdom. Do you hear me?"

The prince looked deep into her eyes--he liked blue eyes. He shifted his gaze to her high-held breasts. He liked those too. So he released the left, pulling down that corner of the dress that so held it. And lifting it with his hand then instead, he began rubbing his thumb over the witch's yielding nipple and all around the dark areola, and feeling the texture of them thus enhanced.

Her eyes widened with shock. Is our future king really so simple that he's incapable of being enthralled? she thought. No matter, my arousal will only increase the spell's potency. She lifted his head, bringing his eyes back to hers, and raising her voice, repeated her command. This time his eyes never left hers, but he smiled as his left hand went down under her skirt, and that thumb began rubbing as well, finding her clitoris and gently singling it out. Her voice lost its edge, "Oh my god, you must be the stupidest prince I've ever met!"

"I can do one thing pretty well," he laughed, and his fingers ran through her lips and began to probe her vagina.

"Shit. Oh well, it was worth a try." Voice booming again she declared his punishment for not heeding her wishes. "Sir, you have the simple mind of a wild creature... mm... and the urges of one as well. An animal you are... mm... and an animal you shall be."

As she was talking, the prince found it harder and harder to reach his first, and then his second plaything, finally leaping up and down, and only managing to slap at the witch's now wet and hanging pussy lips. The prince looked down at his shrunken, grotesque body, and sadly began to realize that he probably wasn't gonna get to fuck the beautiful woman after all.

He was less than two feet tall and green--all green. His hands were webbed like a frog's, his feet were webbed like a frog's, and his body was amphibious and slimy like a... "Hey! You made me a frog!" He was bipedal in general form, including the muscles along his arms, legs, and even torso, which looked more human than frog, but almost every specific was frog, including a giant frog face above his shoulders, with a mouth six inches wide, that stretched from one side of it to the other. One specific however, was quite human indeed--a perfectly shaped man's penis hung between his bow legs. Perfectly shaped, but just over an inch long, and dangling in front of comparably sized balls.

Her voice had again returned to normal. "You are still a man, only now in a shape more... fitting. You're sentence fits your spirit 'prince'. Since your thoughts dwell only on the carnal, if you wish to appear as a man again, then in the form you now possess, you must bring a maiden to full pleasure. She must both allow your member into her, and she must enjoy it... either that or you know, give me your kingdom, hah. But beware, if you fail and she is not brought to her fullest pleasure you will fall dead on the spot. I'm sending you far away prince. If ever you say the words, 'Sorceress, my kingdom is yours,' you will be yourself again, and I shall rule. If however, you succeed at your task, your servant... where the hell is he? Get out here now!" Henry shuffled out and gasped at the unfortunate penis.

"Good. Now, if you succeed, then your servant will know of it the very instant and he shall be able to find you."

"You will never have my kingdom, beautiful witch," the frog returned downcast, "for I should lose just as much in such an exchange. I haven't the wit to woo the ladies of the court as others do, and without my riches I'll surely be alone. In such a case, I would prefer to be cast far from busy streets, where I would only see what I cannot touch."

Faithful Henry was looking at his master's tiny dick, his former shrine, and he bowed low to the woman. "Please your majest..., your holi..., please ma'am, please don't take his cock. It's not fair. It was I who, erring, led him to your domain, into your magnificent presence, and... well he can't succeed with

that!

" He gestured at it. "He didn't but proposition you, the... the punishment doesn't fit ma'am. Please I beg you!"

She looked down at the pathetic specimen blowing lightly in the soft breeze and laughed. "Ha, it is very funny though." But knowing the single-minded prince would indeed never hand over his means of acquisition in any case, she softened to the kind servant's plea. "Very well, he may retain his... tool's... former size."

As she spoke, cock and balls returned to their previous dimensions but were now grotesque like himself. Still human in shape, and green, they lacked any sense of symmetry, the shaft bending far left, and the head--a lighter shade and with a distorted rim--aiming right. Flaccid, the penis reached down eight inches, just far enough to scrape the dirt road if he lurched but a little. Behind it, in a scrotum which wrinkled in unexpected places, hung two fairly large--even for a human--testicles, the right one fully twice as low as the left.

"Remember all I have said." As she was putting her boob away, the frog man vanished, and she turned, leaving the servant, and disappearing into the shadows of the alley. But in that last instant, just before Henry lost sight of her, he watched the vibrant, young blonde woman change. The foggy silhouette became hunched and crooked, colorless, the appealing dress now rags draped over bone under the sparse locks of a heavy head. And then the hag was gone.

Back at the castle, the servant could find nothing to please his eyes as had the stiff work of his master's former member. Only upon thoughts of it, in all its former glory, would his own dick ever rise again, and that too, to him seemed unfair. Improper that his 'heart' should take joy in remembrance of so worthy an idol, when that idol could no longer take for itself the joy it properly deserved.

But he could not long keep such thoughts from his mind, so faithful Henry made for himself a device to impede the growth of his heart at such times as these, lest it should burst of its own accord, selfishly receiving the joy that he could not give his prince. A strip of iron he lay along the length of his cock. To the side were attached three iron bands which he wound tightly round the shaft, bringing each end back to the start, and in his great pain, buckled each band to the strip. And he resolved that his own prison would not be removed until such time as he would see once more the pleasure of his heart's desire, proud and erect, its glory reinstated, as it plowed into some woman.

---The Fountain---

Far away in a small castle in a small kingdom, there lived a blonde-haired king's daughter. Though she was expected to marry soon, having just passed her twenty-first year, she was the youngest of her sisters, the other two married off, and her father was still very protective of her. Any prince that dare smile her way too long, would receive a strong blow to the codpiece from his big, clenched fist. And when it occasioned that she would flash her beautiful smile back--the corners of which she innocently curled up such that one felt as though they and her were together in an awareness of something nobody else in the world knew--she herself would receive a long discourse on the evils of the flesh and on the manner in which a proper lady presents herself.

When she didn't smile, her face had not one wrinkle. Smoothly and gradually pronounced cheek bones, and a soft, small nose with an almost feline quality, sat below the straight bottom edges of bright blue eyes, and above protruding pink lips, the bottom one twice as tall as the top. The king had long held off incoming marriage proposals, but at twenty-one there was nothing more he could do. A woman at that age was expected to have taken a husband, indeed would be looked at suspiciously, people circulating explanatory rumors, if she did not soon do so. It was therefore time, and the king very grudgingly decreased the frequency with which he would pound on her prospective partners' privates.

To relieve her mind from the restraint she thus endured, she would often, upon finding herself in a field or meadow alone, with the sun shining down on her face, lift her skirt high over her pretty yellow braids. And twirling heedlessly, she would dance about while the contented sun ogled on, warming each substantial curve in its turn as it came around on the narrow frame. But the princess had a yet better way to enjoy her body. Something the sun was rarely privileged to watch.

The queen was, unlike her husband, able to keep her reason in matters regarding their youngest princess, and so this year, on the day of the celebration of her birth, to help her ease her grounded urges, along with showing her how to please a future husband, she had given to her daughter a special gift, one which had belonged to her own mother--a small, round, golden ball. Hollow and only three inches in width, with two tiny holes at either pole, it seemed to grow larger when placed in the dainty hands of the curious maiden. Though the king knew of the gift, the queen had not allowed him to see the many wondrous reliefs etched into its surface depicting things

not

in keeping with the manners of a proper lady.

The ball contained twelve scenes in three rows of four, in six of which--every other one--were depicted a single female character, and in the other six, a woman and a man. In the one-woman panels, she pleasured herself, mostly with her hands, and in the others, she pleasured the man using many different parts of her body. Alone in an enclosed space, where she was certain no distant eyes could peer, she would take out the ball, and throw it into the air and catch it, and whichever scene landed on top, she would attempt to work upon herself. And since she could not make use of the scenes involving men, if one were presented, she would simply toss the ball up again.

It became her favorite toy and though she would often use it alone in her bed chamber, she liked to play most of all by the cool water of a well she had stumbled upon in the dark forest close by her father's castle, and to which nobody ever seemed to go. The edge of the large well was flush with the ground, and lined with marble all round, and in its center stood a tall circular fountain, water spewing high from the spout above and falling first onto the upper level, and then over the rim and down to the second, before ending its journey in the same deep pool from which it had begun. Though surrounded by thick trees, one tall lime tree stood apart, rising just beside and bending over the water, to provide shade.

For weeks now since she'd been given the ball, every day when the sun was highest in the sky, she would go to the well and play. On one such day, the hottest yet that year, when she came to the coolness of the flowing waters, she removed all of her clothing, setting them aside and taking her precious orb in hand. But after catching it three times, and each time a man and woman being portrayed, she was becoming hasty. Her left hand was already hard at work below, fumbling between thick outer lips, unable to decide whether they or the other pair deserved her attention more. She loved the ball and had played with it often, but after only two weeks she could not yet recall the positions well enough to reenact them without example.

Now when she threw the ball into the air the fourth time, she did so with vigor, and it fell just beyond the outstretched fingertips of the hand that reached for it and rolled away into the pool sinking down. The water was clear, but in the shade of the lime tree, with the fountain rippling the surface of the deep well, she could barely see far enough to perceive that the picture showed no man. The woman was bent over, with her bottom up in the air, but it was impossible to tell what was being done to that bottom. And being unable to swim, she started to weep for the loss of her instruction, struggling in vain to find a comfortable position on her own, and saying how she would give anything in the world to have it back--her clothing, all of her jewels and pearls.

"What ails thee?" said a voice from behind the fountain. "And why do you wear your golden crown so? You weep so bitterly that even stone itself would bow its head in pity." The frog prince swam out from behind the fountain and over to the edge of the well where she now sat with legs spread, left knee up, and the other foot in the water. While her hand still rubbed busily away in random directions, undulating the long pink inner lips, her thumb rummaged through and disrupted the flow of the light patch of blonde crowning the hint of clitoris that peeked from behind its own cover.

"You don't mind if I rest myself on the edge?"

"Of course not." Then, "Oh. It... it does look heavy," she added as the frog pulled his flaccid, green cock from the water, stretching the thick, ugly head over the edge for support.

"Now you see here? You had me as hard as this stone fountain only minutes ago, lifted up from the waves--as you have these past weeks. Yet now..." he held it up with one hand at the base just under the water's surface, and another around the center, and waved the top backward and forward to demonstrate, then rested it again on the well.

Her wet eyes continued staring as she wiped them, and her left hand kept rubbing, not sure yet what she was looking at, as he splashed it in and out of the water seeming to keep it lubricated, and each time replacing the distorted mushroom back onto the pool's marble edge, while the little webbed fingers of his other hand stroked along the shaft, causing him to make the most disturbing croaking sound. Rising from the water, it hung low making its ascent, yet still maintained its natural leftward orientation--toward her-- until it reached the disorganized rim, which began so much earlier on the right side than the left, that the head itself seemed to point almost directly to that side.

After long, she processed the question he'd asked and looked up at his face. "I'm not wearing any crown little frog. I'm sure I don't know what you mean."

"Above you're appetizing little plate there," he pointed at the long lips, spread wide now at the center by two prying fingers. "Your bed of silk my lady. That's no way to do it, you're wearing it all out." Getting no response, he sheepishly added, "It's poetic. Do not women enjoy poetry?"

She may be from a small kingdom, but she had heard poetry, and that was not it. Seeing no reason to arrest her finger play for a frog, she began to explain her plight--how being the youngest, she was kept from the company of men and therefore required the golden ball for her own fun. The frog had already known of the ball of course, for he had the fortune of watching her play many times before and knowing that of all the princesses who had turned him down--and who did so even in his human form--he would be most disappointed by this one, somehow more beautiful even than the witch who cursed him. And he was certain that she would turn him down. He'd known he would need to wait until he had something to offer her in return.