WHEN COYOTE MET MISTY

By C

Part I

For the Mythican hunter in a hurry, there are few manuals more clearly written–and more informative–than Crinolina: A Brief Guide for Busy Predators . Every paragraph is a little feast in itself. Let me share with you a few of my favorite passages:

"No land fay in Mythica is more winsome, or more flavorful, than Fatamorgana Crinolina--Crinolina for short. Unlike other fays, she always wears a sleeveless dress with full skirt and petticoat. The petticoat is a veritable baffle of brilliant white crinolines–sometimes a hundred or more. A pair of magic high heels, always matching at least one color on the dress, completes her ensemble and enables her to run at speeds daunting to most predators . . . ."

"She has other defenses besides her speed: for example, her crinolines are not just a lure for prospective mates; they mask her scent quite effectively, so that she is easily the most difficult fay to track. And mature crinolinas command a number of glamors and enchantments . . . ."

"She is not, however, uncatchable. For instance, she is as vulnerable as any other fay to those predators that sit and wait . . . . "

The covey of crinolinas had spread out through the valley in their search for wildflowers, so that none was closer to another than thirty feet. Such an arrangement lessened the chance of quarrels over food. Misty, a blonde, beautifully mature crinolina in a white dress with red polka-dots, was standing about dead-center in the valley. She had found an especially scrumptious cluster of bluebells and was glancing over toward her friend Jenna to see what the other girl might have discovered. Just then, a clump of grasses in front of Jenna flew apart and out jumped a giant trapdoor spider. Jenna screamed as she fell back in the high grass, the monster on top of her. Her lemon-yellow skirt flew up. Her yellow heels kicked, again and again. At this point, Misty and the others began to run. "Don't panic!" she heard up and down the line of fays. "Don't panic!" Then another girl screamed, and yet another, both of them claimed by spiders. "They're everywhere!" someone shouted. The girls now galloped off in every conceivable direction. About ten feet ahead of Misty, a green-clad girl was taken from behind. Thick black legs enveloped her, drew back her petticoat, and pulled her, thrashing and shrieking, into the monster's lair. Within seconds only her legs could be seen, the panties already at her ankles. Then she was gone. Misty heard more screams and held her ears to shut them out. "Just . . . let me . . . get away" she said to herself as she dashed along, her red pumps flashing.

"If the covey in which crinolinas customarily travel is scattered, its members become a good deal more vulnerable . . . ."

Where were the others? Misty couldn't tell. Unable to think of anything else to do, she kept on running. Soon she came to a wood. Zooming along would be dangerous in this tangle of trees, so she slowed to a walk and moved cautiously in. After what seemed like an hour, she found a clearing. Stepping out into the open, she saw that she was not the first arrival. Standing in front of a big rock in the middle of the clearing were three other crinolinas. As she got closer, Misty saw they were a trio of young adults from her covey: Barbi, a blonde dressed in sky-blue; Buffy, a brunette in pink; and Bonnie, a redhead in key-lime green. Misty groaned inwardly: she had never thought much of these three; but familiar faces were familiar faces, so she joined them.

"Misty!" said Barbi. "How are you?"

"A little tired," said the older fay. "We should probably rest, and then go looking for the others. I think . . . ."

Before she could finish, Buffy interrupted: "Bad luck about those spiders, hunh?"

"I'll say!" said Bonnie. "One minute, we're talking about who to take to the big fay dance; the next, we're running for our lives!"

"The boys wouldn't want to see us all mussed up like this!" said Barbi as she straightened out a wrinkle in her skirt.

"Well," said Misty. "If you don't want to get really 'mussed up,' I suggest we give some thought to getting back to the . . . ."

"Say," said Barbi to Buffy, "Do you think Merovech would like it if I squirted some clover honey behind each ear?"

"Honey, Merovech isn't interested in your ears!" Buffy said with a laugh.

"Is anyone listening to me?" said Misty.

"We're listening," said Barbi. "By the way, Buff, do you still have that nail polish?"

And so it went. Misty sighed and checked their surroundings for suspicious clumps of grass. It was just then that Bonnie let out a shriek. "Mouse!" she cried. "Oh dear God! Oh dear God!"

"Some of nature's humblest creatures undergo a strange alchemy when fays are near. The most remarkable example of this phenomenon is the lowly field mouse, who becomes a fierce and lethal hunter whenever a crinolina is unlucky enough to cross his path. Undaunted by her crinolines, he darts straight up her leg and then bites her where she is most tender. Unless she can quickly pull him free, his little nips will soon overcome her. Her crinolines are now a hindrance to her as she struggles to grasp him and toss him away . . . ."

Misty looked over and saw the mouse, just a few feet from Bonnie. She and the others turned to run, only to realize that the big rock was surrounded by a gang of the evil little creatures! They were resting on their hind legs, blinking their beady little eyes, and licking their lips. Gasping and crying now, the four fays jumped up onto the rock and tucked their skirts between their legs. "Don't move," said Misty. For once, the others paid attention.

Minutes passed, and nothing happened. Misty looked down at the nearest mouse, and for the first time her keen crinolina eyesight perceived something very strange: on the creature's belly a word was stenciled: ACME. "What the fuck is this?" she said.

"A diversion, if cleverly engineered, can be very effective . . . . "

Misty examined the other mice and saw that all were marked in exactly the same way. What's more, aside from blinking and licking, the little monsters were not moving at all. With further scrutiny, it soon became clear that their blinks and licks had a distinctly mechanical rhythm. "They're not real!" said Misty. "Hey guys, they're not . . . ." Just then she realized she was alone on the rock. Where had the others gone? She heard a moan, coming from beyond the far edge, so she walked over to take a look. There, on the ground below her, lay Barbi, Buffy, and Bonnie. Their dresses looked . . . disheveled, as if something had been pawing at them. Each girl had a bite mark high on her left breast. Clearly, some critter much bigger than a mouse was responsible. The girls appeared to be semi-conscious: they moaned, and kicked spasmodically, but otherwise produced no sound or movement. Misty was about to jump down to take a closer look, when she heard a noise behind her. She turned. It was Coyote. His right paw was extended, and in it was a little heap of gray powder. "Acme's patented Sleepy Dust," he said. "Just the thing for quiet captures!" Then he blew the powder into her face.

Part II

"A careful predator will take pains to secure his prey . . . ."

When Misty came to, she had no idea how long she'd been out. She was lying on her back next to her three younger companions. Her left breast was stinging. When she tried to move, she realized that her wrists were bound beneath her. "He doesn't take any chances," she said to herself. Groaning, the three younger girls awoke shortly after she did.

"W-what happened?" Barbi asked.

"We were caught," said Misty. "By Coyote." (At this news, the others gasped in horror.) "The mice–that was just a trick . . . to get our guard down. Needless to say . . . it worked."

"W-what's going to happen to us?" asked Buffy.

"What do you think is going to happen?" snapped Misty. "Honestly, if you three aren't the dumbest crinolinas I've ever met . . . ."

"You don't have to be nasty about it!" said Bonnie. "Why don't we put our heads together and think . . . think of a way out?"

"Right!" said Barbi and Buffy together.

"Good lord," said Misty. "You really are as clueless as you sound. For you three, there is no way out. I might have a chance, but if I do, it's a ticket good for only one."

"What do you mean?" said Bonnie.

"It won't do you any good, so you don't need to know about it."

"You are such a bitch!" shouted Barbi. "Screw her–let's use our heads, girls. We've always been able to lead Merovech, Chlodovech, and Guthlac by their noses. How much harder can one old Coyote be?"

"Right!" said the other two.

"Heaven help us," said Misty.

Just then, Coyote reappeared. "I couldn't stay away!" he said as he shrugged off a knapsack and placed it on the ground.

"Uh . . . uh . . . hi," said Barbi. "Gee, you sure . . . got the drop on us."

"I did at that," said Coyote with a smirk.

"You know," she said, "You're very handsome . . . for a coyote."

"Why, thank you."

"M-maybe we could . . . come to an arrangement . . . ."

"Arrangement? What do you mean?"

"Well, don't you . . . don't you think we're pretty?"

"I surely do."

"Well, couldn't we maybe . . . have a . . . a relationship?"

"Oh," said Coyote. "I think I see where this is going. If I understand you correctly, that's a nice suggestion–but there are problems."

"P-problems?" said Barbi.

"Yup," said Coyote. "A long-term relationship with fays tends to be short-term–very short-term–for the non-fay. So . . . I'm going to say thanks, but I'll stick with our initial arrangement."

"Initial a-arrangement?" said Barbi.

"You know," he said. "The one where I pull your petticoats back, take your panties down, and kill you."

"Predators have different opinions regarding crinolines. Some find them a bother and a distraction. Others love a leisurely game of slipping them back, one after another, until at last the pretty package they conceal is unwrapped. It's a great way, too, for a predator to get better acquainted with his prey . . . ."

The three girls screamed, and wailed, and pleaded for their lives, of course, but it made no difference; on this subject, Coyote was adamant. He started with Barbi. First, he drew her big blue skirt past her waist, as far as it would go (its hem reached her chin). Then, slowly, patiently, he pulled her crinolines in the same direction, one by one. As he did so, he hummed a little tune. Crying all the while, Barbi twisted and kicked, but, weakened by the heady mix of Sleepy Powder and Coyote venom, she accomplished nothing. More than once, her crinolines fell back into place, and Coyote started all over again. Once, he got his snout tangled in them and started to sneeze. Barbi, Buffy, and Bonnie all shrieked in response.

"It's not the sneezing that's going to kill you," Misty said under her breath.

After about fifteen minutes, Barbi cried out: "Enough! Enough already! Just get it over with!"

"Very well," said Coyote and yanked back her crinolines all at once. Now all that protected her from her captor was a pair of white panties, dotted with little bluebells. Barbi and her friends sobbed even louder now; Misty turned her head away.

"Never mind!" cried Barbi through her tears. "I can wait! Really . . . really."

"Ahhh," said Coyote. "So can I." He returned the crinolines to their proper place and started over.

"Then down come her panties. Expect the tears and begging to intensify. Remember that you must be firm . . . . "

How long it took was impossible to say, but at last he pulled back the final crinoline and gently flattened it out on top of the others.

Barbi was beside herself: "Please don't take my panties down," she whimpered. " . . . oh please, please, please, please, please!"

"But I want to have my fay and eat her, too," said Coyote. So he gripped the girl's underpants in front and drew them down her violently trembling legs. Soon they lay in a little heap next to her feet. Then, gently but firmly, he pulled her legs apart. Beneath its V of damp blond hair, her snatch was pink and very tight. When Coyote saw it, his big Mythican tongue grew long and stiff. It had a sharp tip and was rough to the touch, like a cat's tongue. Confronted with this appendage, Barbi screamed with even more gusto than before. "No!" she wailed. "It won't fit! It won't fit!"

"It alwayth hath before," said Coyote as he slipped it in.

Once again, Misty turned her head away. But there was no escaping Barbi's pain-filled squeals, or the anticipatory shrieks of her two friends. "Oh, what the hell," she said. It might well happen to her–she preferred to know exactly what she was in for. She turned back, just in time to see Coyote draw his tongue–now slick with blood–from Barbi's pussy. He then started nipping. "Ouch! Ouch! Ouch!" cried the luckless girl as her snatch was assailed. Then he worked the tongue back in; Barbi gave a surprisingly deep groan when this happened.

It went on like this for the next several minutes. Mostly Barbi cried; but in one interval between tongue and teeth, she spoke. "It . . . it was g-going to be all right. M-Merovech was g-going to meet me at the dance. I was . . . I was going to let him have his way tonight. H-he'd think he'd g-gotten me, but . . . I'd have him! Do you understand? I'd have him! H-he'd have to stay with me till my . . . my belly swelled, till my eggs were ready. Then he'd . . . have to give himself to . . . to a predator. That's our law! He'd have been all mine! All mine! We'd go out . . . every night and . . . seduce some stupid humans into killing themselves. They'd die . . . not me! Not me! It isn't fair!"

"Sucks to be you," said Coyote, then nipped her once more. "Ouch! Ouch!" she replied.

At last, her final tremors began: she thrashed, bucked, kicked, and moaned with the strange, hurtful pleasure that Coyote brought to all his victims. And then she was through. "One down, three to go," he said.

Buffy was next. Coyote had evidently tired of the crinoline game: he thrust her petty back with little ceremony. "Not so soon! Not so soon!" she shrieked as her panties–white with red hearts–were bared. Down they came, exposing a little brunette muff; and soon, like Barbi before her, Buffy was groaning and crying "Ouch! Ouch! Ouch!" It wasn't long before another pretty pussy had given up the ghost.

Then came Bonnie's turn. Her panties were pink. Her muff was bright red. She groaned and died just like her friends.

Part III

"Beware a mature crinolina; her enchantments are very powerful. Never turn your back on her . . . ."

For some time, Coyote just gazed at the three dead girls in a kind of reverie. Then he looked at Misty and said: "Ahhh, an older woman! My favorite kind!" With these words, he turned his back on her and began rummaging through his knapsack. "Now where did I put my coyotagra?"

Misty saw her chance and modulated her voice for a tone of maximum scorn: "Ugghh!" she said, "you're so arrogant; you're so . . . male ! You strip three foolish children of their panties, and you want to strut! I'm not such an easy conquest."

"Why's that?" said Coyote, turning towards her again. He had a pill bottle in one paw.

"Look into my eyes and I'll tell you."

He did so. Her eyes were blue, and somehow cold, reminding him of the sky in winter. There was a . . . deepness to them. The pill bottle fell to the ground, but Coyote didn't notice . . . .

It was a quick, fevered courtship. "Hey honey, let's get hitched," Coyote said. Misty brushed away a few tears and kissed him on his fuzzy cheek. Then they jumped into his convertible and took Route 666 all the way to Las Vegas Mythicas. At the Chapel of Bliss, the minister (ordained in sixteen different denominations) took their vows and pronounced them coyote and wife. It was a small wedding: just Coyote, Misty, the minister, and the bridesmaids: Barbi, Buffy, and Bonnie. As they left the chapel, Misty threw her bouquet and Barbi caught it. Coyote thought it odd that Barbi had blood on her dress, but he wasn't going to let it spoil his happy day.

Next stop was the Inn of Desert Delights. After he had tipped the bellhop and sent him on his way, Coyote took his bride in his arms. She squealed with pleasure, and her crinolines rustled. "Now there's a promise of delights," Coyote said. Just then, the couple heard laughter outside the window. Coyote went out to the balcony. Below him stood Barbi, Buffy, and Bonnie. "We want to serenade you!" Barbi said, and without further ado the girls launched into a light pop medley. Coyote couldn't help noticing now that all their dresses were streaked with blood. He and his bride stood arm in arm till the singing stopped.

Barbi then tossed the bouquet up to Misty. "Keep it," she said. "I won't need it; a predator got me! Buffy and Bonnie, too!"

"Oh you poor things!" said Misty.

"You're right about that!" said Barbi with a laugh. "You're a lucky girl, Misty: you've got the love of a good coyote. We on the other hand . . . ." Just then, all three lifted up their skirts and crinolines. Their groins were bare and bleeding.

"Ouch!" said Misty. "Well, thanks for the serenade." She ushered Coyote back into the room.

"Did I tell you I love you?" said Misty to her husband.

"Yes. Tell me again."

"I love you. I'd slip into something more comfortable, but this is the only thing crinolinas wear." She rustled her skirt once more as she said this, and Coyote thought he might swoon.

"It's just fine," he said. "It's more than fine."

"Well then, lover, let's go to bed."

"Sure thing. Now . . . where did I put my coyotagra?"

"You silly beast; you already took it! Come to bed!"

"I . . . did, didn't I? My mind just isn't working lately." She had already lain down on the big king-size mattress. Coyote slipped in next to her and took her in his arms once again.

"But won't this, uh, kill you?" he asked.

"No, silly; I took coyotagra, too. It really is a wonder drug! Say, would you . . . pull my crinolines back one by one? I love it when you do that."

"Of course," he said. It took a while, but at last he had them all back. Misty's panties were a dazzling, spotless white. She wiggled her hips invitingly, and a little whimper caught in her throat. "Oh, do it, lover, do it," she whispered. Coyote reached for the panties.

"Are you sure I took my coyotagra?" he asked.

"Yes!" she cried. "Your mind really is going. On my word of honor: you took it, and you can take me! Please, honey, while I'm young . . . do it!"

"Okay," he said. "Okay. I'll . . . ow!"

"What now?" Her exasperation was palpable.

"My arm's falling asleep." Earlier, while searching through his knapsack for his medicine, Coyote had unobtrusively tied a string tightly around his left forearm. It cut off the circulation, and now the arm was throbbing and stinging, as if jabbed by thousands of little needles. Without the victim's full involvement, Misty's enchantment dissolved like snow in the midday sun. Coyote came to and saw that he had never left the clearing. Barbi, Buffy, and Bonnie lay there, unquestionably dead. Misty was just as she had been before--except that her skirt and petty were now thrust back. "It was . . . quite an illusion," said Coyote, as he picked up his pill bottle.

"Oops," said Misty.

"The most dangerous way to dispatch a crinolina is by sexual intercourse. Her fay magic will surely prove fatal unless her captor has fortified himself with effective protection. The only 100 % guarantee of safety comes from Acme's new drug, coyotagra. Be absolutely sure that you have taken a full dose of coyotagra no more than twenty minutes before intercourse. And keep track of the expiration date!"

"A crinolina's nether regions are more delicate than those of any other fairy. Intercourse with a non-fay will kill her if the non-fay lives long enough to bring her to orgasm . . . ."

"Can't we discuss this?" said Misty. "I mean . . . we had a great time in Las Vegas Mythicas, didn't we?"

"Yes we did," said Coyote.

"We could work something out . . . I mean: if you just bring me off without getting inside of me, we'll both be safe. And mixed marriages are getting more common all the time. It could work . . . really it could."

"But I can't trust you," said Coyote.

"Well, you do have a point there, but you're so darned smart! I can't see how I'd ever get the better of you."

"Given enough time, I think you would," said Coyote. "You almost pulled it off today. I'm sorry, sweetie, but it's over." He then shook two tablets into his paw and swallowed them.

"O-over?" she said. "Oh lord, it r-really is over, isn't it?" Coyote nodded. "Oh my. Oh my, oh my." The tears began to pour down her face. "You've v-vanquished me . . . just like the others. I played the best trick I knew . . . and you w-won anyway. You're . . . Coyote the Conqueror!" And with that, she began to sob. Gently, ever so gently, Coyote slipped her panties down.

Misty was almost as tight as her younger companions. When Coyote first entered her, she filled the clearing with her screams. The hurt didn't go away, but in a short time it was matched and then surpassed by spasm after spasm of pussy-rending pleasure. No male fay had ever given her delight like this. She groaned deeply and loudly and kicked out hard with every tremor. After more orgasms than she could count, something at last gave way inside her. She uttered a final groan, kicked a few more times, and then was still. "Wow," said Coyote.

Part IV

When Coyote met the spiders that evening, they greeted him with unfeigned warmth. "It worked just the way you said it would!" said the Spider Queen. "We caught a dozen of them!"

"Location, location, location," said Coyote. "And you sent four very nice ones right to me. Any doubts now about the value of a cooperative venture?"

"Not a one," said the Queen. "Have your lawyers call mine and we'll draw up a contract."

"Great," he said. "In the meantime, I'd like you to accept a little gift. He pulled a book out of his knapsack and handed it to her.

She looked it over. "Hmm, Crinolina: A Brief Guide for Busy Predators , by W.E. Coyote! Why thank you!"

"Glad to be of service," said Coyote. "Is, uh, dinner ready?"

"Of course, you furry rascal!" said the Queen. "We know our guest very well. Let's dig in!"

THE END