{All humans and humanoids such as ogres and goblins who engage in adult activity, in this story, are over eighteen years of age}
Once upon a time in a land of four Kingdoms, each named in reflection of their locale and weather, there was a fateful meeting.
Near the center of these four Kingdoms, in the middle of a cerulean lake, was a place called Windrock; so named for the ephemeral and ever-changing winds which breathed upon it; one day warm, one day cold, the next day neither, and for the constancy of earth and rock upon which it stood.
The lake was not overly large nor deep, nor suitable for more than the use of small boats to sail upon it. A single wooden bridge constructed of heavy oak timbers spanned from the shore near a small woodland village, across the lake to a narrow beach encircling Windrock proper. A small castle with a great hall had been built near the summit of Windrock. On a clear day, standing on the castle parapets, one could see to the distant reaches of all four Kingdoms.
The Kings and Queens of the four Kingdoms, along with their respective retinues had converged upon this place for an annual celebration which would include discussions of politics and trade, as well as much court intrigue revolving around strategic marriages and the propagation of royal lineages.
In this year, as fate and a lot of fucking would have it, all four Queens were with child, each carrying a princess. These four princesses would be named for the climes of their Kingdoms.
Renascent, of the springtime, would be an exotic beauty with hair and skin the colors of earth and soil. She would be the most vivacious of the four.
Summer's pretty face would be accentuated by honey-blonde locks and dark brown eyes. She would be the most petite of form and figure.
Autumn's emerald eyes and the intellect behind her gaze would allow her to see more than most were capable of seeing.
Winter would be the most beautiful of the four with her raven hair, flawless milk-white skin, and crystal-blue eyes.
It was a fair day upon Windrock. The four regents and their wives had gathered on a westward facing rampart overlooking the lake and lands below. As the Kings were plotting and the Queens were gossiping, an old serving woman approached. Her face was unusual in its appearance due both to age and to the trace of ogre blood in her lineage. One of her forebears had been ravaged by an ogre, and some of that blood was still evident.
A guardsman blocked the old woman's way, and she looked up at him.
The Northern Queen gasped when she beheld the old woman, "Get away you," she said with disdain bordering upon disgust.
"How repulsive," the Southern Queen exclaimed as she turned her back upon the old woman, and refused to look upon her further.
"Guard, escort this hag away from us, now," the Eastern Queen commanded.
"What's wrong?" the old woman inquired of the guard as he took her arm and began to lead her away.
All four Queens wrapped their arms about themselves and shuddered, making a show of their revulsion.
"These flowers. I wish to give these flowers to the Queens," the old woman said, her voice cracking with age.
There was some kindness in the guard. He offered a slight smile to the old woman as he took the flowers from her hands. "I will give these to them," he said. "Wait here."
The guard approached the Western Queen and offered the bouquet of pretty flowers to her. "A gift from the old woman," he said deferentially.
The Western Queen hesitated for a moment, but then she accepted the bouquet. She turned to look at the old woman who waited a few paces distant with a half-formed hopeful smile upon her face, and, then, she flung the bouquet over the castle rampart. "Tell her, thank you," the Queen said cruelly. "Now take her away from us."
._._._._._._._._._._.
._._._._._._._._._._.
The Queens would rue their actions; for the old woman had inherited more than just unusual features from her ogre forebear. She had also inherited the powerful magical abilities of a fairy witch. There was no kindness in the Queens whom the old woman had approached earlier this day. They were cruel, vain, selfish, and heartless. She had sensed that each woman was carrying a girl child within her womb. She would place a curse upon each girl, to awaken upon their eighteenth birthday. Perhaps through suffering, the four princesses would become women worthy of rule and reign; certainly their mothers were not.
Later that night, in a run-down hovel of a home at the edge of the village across the bridge from majestic Windrock, the old woman began to weave her witchcraft.
In her worn and weary voice she chanted.
"To the Princess of Spring, a barren womb; she will need to find love in the children of others."
"To the Princess of Summer, despair; she will love only those not of her own kind, finding no joy of body or soul with any normal human."
"To the Princess of Autumn, prescience and foreknowledge; she will be haunted all of her life, to know what will come, yet be powerless to change it."
"To the Princess of Winter, undeath; a life that is not life, filled with blood and self-hatred."
._._._._._._._._._._.
._._._._._._._._._._.
Twenty years later.
This is Summer's tale.
Summer lay in her bed, alone, trying yet again to masturbate, to coax some small measure of physical pleasure from her own body. She caressed her breasts and pinched her pert nipples with one hand while alternately fingering herself and rubbing her clit as roughly as she dared. All to no avail. She wanted to scream, but, instead, flopped to her stomach, buried her face in her pillows, and sobbed quietly.
She knew how it was supposed to be, what she should feel, what every other young woman her age had confided to her about sex, but for Summer, there was nothing. No weak knees when the handsomest of men walked by. No stirring in her loins when watching horses fuck. No excitement when practicing how to kiss with her closest maid. Nothing, nothing, nothing. Summer could almost believe that everyone else was making it all up. Surely it was some grand conspiracy to trick her, but she heard the cries of delight from other women behind bedroom doors as she wandered the castle late at night, and knew that sex was real, and nearly everyone wanted it.
Summer's parents, the ruling King and Queen of the Southern Kingdom, had tried to find suitors for their daughter. Several suitable young men had come to court to meet Summer over the past year, but she had turned them all away. There was no attraction, no interest, no stirring of the heart. Regardless of how handsome or how well spoken or how skilled in martial arts her suitor was, Summer felt nothing for them except emptiness.
Summer had some years remaining until she would be forced to marry in order to fulfill her royal duty, and to produce an heir. She kept hoping that someone would stir her from her state of romantic and sexual despair. Seeking to awaken something in herself in the meantime, she had taken her own virginity with two fingers. Her maid had schooled her on what to expect. Summer hoped that being able to insert things inside her pussy might finally awaken her desires and responses. It could make a future marriage something hopeful and exciting, but, nothing changed. She still felt nothing sexual when fingering herself or inserting suitable penis like objects inside her pussy.
Tonight, the desert heat was oppressive, and Summer could not sleep. She rose from bed and slipped from her room; clad only in a diaphanous nightgown which revealed her slender form even in the dim illumination cast by candles set in sconces along the castle's corridors. It was cooler in the subterranean levels beneath the castle where there were storerooms, kitchens, prison cells, and even an oubliette, a deep room with only a hatch in its ceiling to allow entry or exit. Respite from heat was what Summer sought as she wandered down into the lower levels beneath her father's castle, but what she actually found was something else altogether.
Summer crept forward carefully, keeping in the shadows lest she be discovered by one of her father's guardsmen. The sounds were coming from a room ahead of her, near the end of the passage into which she had wandered. She could hear a deep raspy voice cursing in a pattern with what she now recognized to be the lashing of a whip against flesh; first a lash, then a curse, followed by taunts and coarse laughter from some of her father's guardsmen. She tiptoed up behind some wooden crates which were stacked haphazardly on one side of the passage, and peered into the room.
A goblin was bound to the wall. His wrists and ankles were shackled to the stone behind him. He was naked, and bleeding across his arms and chest from the lashes he had received. The goblin's flesh was green like the fronds of a desert palm. Large dark pupils peered forth from amber colored eyes. His ears were pointed and easily three times as large as those of a human. What drew Summer's attention however, was the long girthy cock dangling between the goblin's legs. Summer opened her mouth partway in an expression of both wonder and discovery, and at the same time she felt a little twitch in her pussy. It was something new; something she had never felt before. She wanted more.
She kept watching as the guards lashed and taunted the goblin, calling him a thief and other unsavory names as they abused him. For a moment, she felt as if the goblin had seen her peeking over the edge of the crate behind which she was hiding, but if he had, he gave no indication.
A small brown lizard scuttled across Summer's bare foot, startling her. She clapped a hand over her mouth to keep from squealing.
Summer heard one of the guards speak up, "Alright, enough, we'll leave him here overnight, and release him in the morning. King's orders." After a brief pause, the same guard spoke again, this time addressing the captive, "I wouldn't get caught thieving again if I were you."
