The evening rain drums softly upon the mountain stones, a sound that usually soothes me. Yet tonight, it only deepens the quiet of this cave. Aka will return soon, and I should be content in my solitude with my books and crafts. But... my body betrays such simple thoughts.

Sometimes, when the silence grows too thick, my mind wanders to places it should not. I recall old scrolls depicting human intimacies—the frantic coupling, the sweat-slicked skin. My own untouched cunt aches with a curiosity that shames me. To feel a cock, not in violence as I have known, but in desperate, consensual heat... to have a man's hands, gentle yet hungry, explore the swell of my tits and the wetness between my thighs until I scream not in fear, but in release.

It is a foolish, dangerous fantasy. My scar throbs in reminder. But in this private, rainy dark, I let myself imagine the weight of a lover, the taste of cum, the brutal, beautiful friction that might make even an ogress forget her centuries of loneliness, if only for a moment.