The Princely Frog
A tale of unquenched passion and political correctness
The late afternoon sun tickled the leaves of lush eucalyptus trees on its journey across the sky, and blew kisses to the ground below, caressing the shimmering green undergrowth, while dancing over the gentle ripples of an iridescent pond. Sitting upon a lily pad, oblivious to the insects and small water creatures flitting around within the radius of its deadly tongue, a solitary frog gazed in rapt attention at a ballet-yogercise class dancing and stretching behind the floor-to-ceiling tinted glass walls of the castle’s state-of-the-art fitness center.
1. The Golden Ball
Dressed in form-fitting, gold lamé lululemon enlighten tights and a matching swiftly tech racerback, the princess glistened as she breathlessly followed her instructor’s encouragements, tossing a gold exercise ball up into the air, and catching it again as it fell, while shaking and shimmying her hips and décolletage to the beat of the latest Beyoncé playlist.
After a time, she threw the ball up so high that she missed catching it as it fell; the ball bounded away, bouncing off one of the other class members, whose lip began to curl into a sneer, but quickly realized who had thrown the ball and went back to her routine. Every time it seemed as if the ball’s trajectory was headed toward the exit, an errant battement tendu or releve would divert the golden sphere from its final resting point down the gently rolling, verdant hill leading to the pond at the edge of the forest. Each time the ball appeared to be headed out the door, the frog’s pulse quickened and its body imperceptibly stiffened in response.
As the final dulcet tones of blonde-trussed Houston diva wrapped themselves in the embrace of the turquoise and onyx themed padded exercise floor, the formation of dancers broke apart and began to file out the exits. An inadvertent kick sent the gold exercise ball in the same direction.
The princess looked toward the exit and the pond below and began to cry, saying, “Alas! If I could only get my ball again, I would surrender all my fine clothes and jewels and everything that I have in the world.” She lunged in vain for the ball and fell, but at the last second, an emerald green-clad arm shot out with breathtaking speed, retrieving the ball and lifting the princess from the ground in a single fluid motion.
2. The Secret
The princess’s eyes inhaled the sinuous body of her chartreuse chevalier, her swelling bosom rising and falling from the exertion of the afternoon’s work. Looking into his bottomless obsidian eyes, she sighed “Thank you, kind sir, for saving my precious ball. Anything you desire shall be yours.”
With his webbed fingers, he gently put the ball in her hands, recovered a respectful distance and replied, “I only desire to sculpt your body so its perfection matches your true inner beauty, highness. But I must report that we have had this conversation for the last six months on a twice daily basis. Is there a deeper meaning that is beyond the limited intelligence of your foolish servant?”
“Good sir,” she replied, “you see me unlike any man. You respect me, your gaze never wandering to my bosom, nor straying upon to the shapely women of my court. When you guide me through each yoga position — downward dog, camel toe and arched pussy — your touch is chaste.” Bringing the back of her hand up to her lips, she whispered, “I have developed feelings for you, but I fear your heart beats for another.”
“No highness,” replied the shamrock soldier of svelte, “there is no one in my heart… but you, of course. I only serve to make you happy.”
“Yes, that is how it should be. What starts as respect could blossom into something more beautiful than a bard’s ballad,” she reassured herself. She stood up tall and faced him, adding, “Then look at me. Look at my breasts, look at them now,” as she pulled the straps of her top low on her shoulders to reveal more of her ample cleavage.
Her instructor turned his head modestly, and said, “Princess, though you are more beautiful and desirous than any woman in the seven kingdoms, I have seen a bloody trail of eunuchs, piked heads, and crucifixions left in the wake of your public yoga demonstrations and nude sunbathing. A thousand pardons, your highness, but I have no desire to have similar fate befall me.”
“Men are pigs. But you are not, my Parisian green paramour.”
“Of that I am certain, your highness,” replied the dashing young NASM-certified fitness consultant, “of that I am certain.”
3. The Kiss
The princess turned him around toward her, holding his chin so that their eyes met, and said, “Then I shall have you, for that is my command. I shall kiss you and break the spell holding you prisoner and you shall become my prince.”
“I’m afraid even your heavenly lips will not affect the curse under which I suffer, princess. For I am no prince. Nay, I am a lowly lotus leaper,” sighed the ripped riparian.
“No, it is impossible,” replied the princess. “I shall be queen, and I desire to turn you into a prince. Now come to me and lose yourself in my loving embrace, or I shall scream and tell the guards that you have dishonored me. You will be taken off in chains, beheaded on the morrow and then sautéed in a delicate mixture of parsley, garlic and fresh Norman butter, garnished with lemon zest and served with a nice Pinot Noir.”
The accursed adviser bowed his head in defeat and took the princess in his powerful arms. As the space between their lips slowly dissolved, she could feel the electricity in the air between them. She closed her eyes, slightly pursed her lips and felt the tingle of the gentlest of initial touches, as if their auras touched and intermingled before their physical bodies met.
Slowly, their lips brushed, then searched and finally melded. She opened her mouth to force her tongue in between his lips and his tension released. Something magical occurred as they tasted the warm, wet and salty inner recesses of each other’s mouths. Their tongues twisted and twirled, dancing a pas de deux in perfect unity.
But it was the superhuman dexterity of his tongue, the gentle effleurage, the deft darting here, there and everywhere, all at once, that made her shiver and give up any hopes of maintaining her dominance. As her tongue and lips overloaded with sensation, she lost all body control. As he continued probing and teasing and playing her, a fevered desire started in her loins, moved upwards to fill her stomach and bosom and brought her nipples to anguished attention.
She pulled him into her with all her might; so intense the passion, she forgot to breath, and only broke the seal of their kiss when her lungs were ready to explode. She smiled and slowly opened her eyes.
But he was unchanged.
4. The Curse
Shocked and angered by her first taste of true impotence in the face of a power greater than her own, she commanded, “Tell me how it is possible that the kiss of the most beautiful, exciting and desirable princess cannot break a spell cast over a prince, before I have thee killed.”
The teal trainer testified, “Please, princess, your kiss would beguile and bewitch any man, but I am not a man. One day, in a kingdom far away, a young prince was hunting alone deep in the forest. He came upon a pond which flowed into an enchanted stream that made the lands fertile for as far as the eye could see.
“As he stopped to drink, a sorceress came upon him and demanded payment for the magical waters that gave the farmers all manner of bounty to feed the people of the kingdom. She asked him for his first-born son, but the prince refused.
“Enraged, the sorceress cursed him, chanted some incantation and pointed her gnarled wand at him. Just as she pointed the wand to cast the spell, a dragonfly flew over the pond. I saw the airborne insect, and jumped with all my might to catch it before it escaped. Alas, her spell hit me square in the chest and the prince ran away.
“All at once, I began to grow, taking on the form you see before you now. I took on some of the characteristics of a prince on the outside, while remaining a frog on the inside. But the curse was even worse then intended, as I became a sentient being! I could no longer stay with my friends or my family, for they still had tiny amphibian brains. I could no longer stay with my wife, because of the physical impossibility of intimacy. And I was no longer satisfied with insects and small water creatures. That is why people only see me at the vegan cafe in the village square.
“I have wandered throughout the kingdoms for many seasons, alone and unloved by man or beast. I assumed the title Sir Grenouille, so that I might be able to find employment with the nobles. After all, my amazing jumping and stretching skills only increased proportionally with the change in my size. I have found employment as a court jester, a fruit picker, a spy, and, of course, a fitness consultant.”
5. The Exchange
The princess was not placated in any way by his story. She only got more furious and there began the strangest of exchanges, as the superficially beautiful princess shouted maledictions, most vile and profane, while the internally beautiful and respectful giant man-frog tried to maintain the peace and not offend any who were within earshot.
Princess: “oh, foul witch…”
Sir Grenouille: “well, not a witch in the pejorative, sexist sense; a sorceress, if you will…”
Princess: “thou cock-sucking…”
Sir Grenouille: “which we have nothing against, it’s totally natural and up to each individual…”
Princess: “motherfucking…”
Sir Grenouille: “well, in ancient Egypt, this was a means of insuring the royal blood lines so who are we to judge…”
Princess: “shit-eating slut-bitch of a goat-farming whore”
Sir Grenouille: “but no disrespect intended to coprophiliacs, women who are free to express their sexuality in any way they see fit, uh.. female dogs who have rights, too, and animal lovers who may need to augment their income through non-traditional economic transactions that are legal and accepted in many societies…”
6. The Feast
The princess cooled down and caught her breath after this exchange, and whispered “I want you now. I am the princess of this realm and somehow, in one way or another, you shall be transformed and we will live together happily ever after.”
Sir Grenouille replied, “I don’t think you are going to like what you find down there, as he pointed to the codpiece of his leotard. You see, my reproductive system resides in the interior of my body. Frogs reproduce asexually.”
The princess screamed, “Omigod, the curse gave you all those muscles and left you without the one muscle I need?” Breathing heavily, she laid down on the exercise mats, pulled off her yoga pants, and said, “Then get down there and use that magic tongue of yours. You will be mine and you will not disobey.”
Reluctantly, the man-frog bent down and spread her legs. He proceeded to create a whole universe inside her, complete with big bangs, sunbursts and super novas inside her black hole. As his tongue expertly explored areas never found with a human member, the princess pulled his head harder and harder between her legs.
The man-frog choked and mumbled unintelligibly, “Thaay, ha ga uh thev’e foo’uh taunhhh.”
“What?” said the princess, letting him come up for air.
“Your highness, my tongue also grew in relation to my body; if I extend it all the way, it will come out of one of your ears and touch the front door.”
“Whatever, just get back to work,” she replied.
And work he did, creating waves of pleasure that crashed over her body again and again. She moaned, “Oh… you bring out the beast in me.”
The man-frog replied, “And you, me, princess,” his body imperceptibly stiffening.
On the second orgasm, she felt the release of a strange liquid inside her and said, “I think I squirted for the first time. Did you feel that?”
He replied, “Mmm… it’s quite all right, quite tasty, actually.”
On the way to the third orgasm, she felt a tiny discomfort, like a prick of some kind, but then was overcome with pleasure again. She felt torrents of passion cascading through her body, then flowing out to a lake between her legs. She was more relaxed than she had ever been in her life and was ready to sleep.
“Good sir, you have quenched my thirst. You may now stop, as I wish to sleep.”
For the first time, the man-frog showed real passion, the words desperately formed by his now erect, blood gorged tongue, “No, my lady, I must have you again! I want all of you.”
The princess was too tired to argue, and just leaned back to enjoy the next wave of pleasure. She opened an eye and saw her reflection in the mirrored walls. Her face had turned a porcelain white. “Sir Grenouille, look at my skin. What’s wrong with me?” she asked.
Without stopping his tongue work, he said, “You are so beautiful. Perhaps you’re just a little tired from all the stress of the day.”
Upon the fifth orgasm, she fell into a deep sleep and dreamt of floating downhill and coming to rest in a cool, shallow pool. A voice said, “My darling, I will have to leave for a while, but I have left you everything you need to feed the family.” Then there was just the peaceful night air and the sound of hundreds, perhaps thousand of crickets and owls and frogs…
That night, the King’s search and rescue party went looking for the princess, but only found a torn gold lamé exercise outfit floating in the pond next to the forest.
And a solitary frog sitting on a lily pad that burped.
