Coyote Meets Melkor
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Coyote Comes A Cropper free porn video
COYOTE COMES A CROPPER
By C
Part I
Coyote was in a hurry. He had to be in position no later than 9 A.M, andeverything was taking longer than it should. When he made a right turn at thecrossroads, he barely spared a glance at two landfays kicking beneath the roadsidegallows. On any other day . . . well, maybe on the way back.
For the last leg of his trip, he had to leave the road and climb a nearbymesa. Bruised and gasping, he reached the top at 8:40–hardly a momenttoo soon. He then gave his apparatus a final check. The boulder was just theright size and heft. A big wooden tube (the patented Acme Boulder Conveyer)snaked right down one side of the mesa until it came to the bottom, then tiltedupward at a 45-degree angle. The scaffolding that anchored it in place wassound.
8:45: Coyote picked up a remote control device and pushed a button. Withinseconds, an Acme unmanned dirigible appeared in the east, moving westward ata pace that would take it within range of the boulder conveyor in just fifteenminutes. Suspended from the dirigible by a single rope was a gigantic, ironanvil.
8:50: Coyote opened an industrial-size can of patented Acme All-Purpose Lubricantand poured it down the tube of the boulder conveyer.
8:55: Coyote took a quick glance through his Acme binoculars. Aha! Down belowon the plain, exactly where he wanted them to be, stood the three shapely SardonicaSisters: Cynthia, Salome, and Sandy. They always congregated in the same placeat exactly five to nine each morning. This settled routine meant that, verysoon, Coyote would have them.
The Sisters were breathtakingly beautiful fairies: human-sized, pale blonde,each with a pair of turquoise wings. They wore white halter-tops and blackhigh heels, but were otherwise bare. Each girl's groin was decorated by a neatlittle muff, as pale as the hair on her head. Coyote inhaled, and he was surehe could just catch a whiff of salty, musky fay-cunt. Not much longer, andhe'd be sampling it directly!
8:59: Coyote picked up the boulder and began lugging it over to the mouthof the conveyer. His arrangements were just what the prophecy required. A fewmonths before, the Sardonica Sisters had gone to the local Sibyl to have theirfortunes told. According to witnesses, they entered the Sibyl's cave, thenran weeping from it just a few minutes later. Coyote had long sought to bringthe Sisters to justice, and when he heard this report, he saw his chance. Hebribed the Sibyl with one of his lecture honoraria, and she told him what shehad prophesied for the three:
"'Tis an unlikely hero,
With intricate contrivance,
Who shall destroy your evil,
Your spite, and your connivance.
Take wing to farthest Thule,
You still are doomed to meet him;
And trusting in your beauty,
You'll fail when you entreat him.
With intricate contrivance,
A seeming fool, but sly,
He'll let you laugh a little,
But then you'll cry and cry."
Could the "unlikely hero" be anyone but Coyote? "A seeming fool" was hardlyflattering; but it was an incontestable fact: many expected very little fromCoyote, and that, in part, was why he was so successful. The dirigible wasexactly where it should be; so he wrestled the boulder up to the conveyor andprepared to send it on its way.
Just then, Cynthia Sardonica swooped down behind him. When she needed to,she could fly without making a sound, and she was silent now. She landed rightbehind the sweating, cursing Coyote just as he was balancing the boulder onthe lip of the conveyor. Then she lifted one shapely leg, planted her footon Coyote's rear, and gave him a good hard shove.
What had gone wrong? Quite by chance, the Sardonica Sisters had flown bythe mesa one day and saw Coyote at work. They immediately guessed what wasup, and they made some preparations of their own. When Coyote looked into hisbinoculars at five to nine, he saw three patented Acme Holographic Projecta-Pictures.("Fool your friends and foes! Fun for the whole family!") The real Sisterswere at a safe distance from his trap.
Coyote pitched forward, still clutching the boulder. Before he knew whatwas happening, he and the boulder were rolling down the conveyer together.He was now wrapped 'round his projectile, with no way to pull free. "Ouch!Ooch! Ouch!" he said.
When they reached the bottom of the conveyer, their momentum carried themupward. Within seconds, he and the boulder were shooting skyward out of theother end. There, in front of him, was the dirigible, and he was approachingit fast! "Oh my gosh golly!" he said.
It took just a few more seconds, and then Coyote and boulder struck the dirigibleamidships. The gasbag punctured, and he found himself and the boulder wrappedup in what was left of the little airship. Coyote, boulder, dirigible, andanvil all began to fall. "Not good," he said, "not good at all!"
It was a struggle, but Coyote peeled himself off the boulder, then workedfree of the enveloping skin of the gasbag. He was plummeting to earth at asteadily increasing rate of speed. "At least I'm above all the heavy stuff," hesaid. "The impact may not be too bad . . . ." Just then a gust of wind hithim, and the next thing he knew, he had switched places with the boulder andanvil! "Great," he said, "just great."
He came to earth about ten yards from the three Projecta-Pictures. The impacttore loose a hundred square feet of taut, sand-covered tarpaulin, which upto then had looked and felt like solid ground. Coyote next slammed into thenet of fine mesh he had placed a few feet beneath the tarp. Had his plan worked,the anvil and boulder would have knocked the tarp right out from under theSisters' feet. They would have fallen into the net and been caught as securelyas flies in a web. Instead, Coyote now lay tangled there. Then the boulderslammed into him. Then the anvil slammed into the boulder.
It took a long time to cut the netting with his teeth and then slowly, painfullypull himself out from under the boulder and anvil. He had been completely flattened,and when he got out, his body looked and sounded like an out-of-tune concertina.He made a very annoying whee-rraww, whee-rraww, whee-rraww soundas he painfully hopped toward the highway.
Part II
In a green clearing not far away, the three Sisters raised glasses of champagnein celebration. "Great work, Cynthia!" said Salome with a laugh. "You sureput a leash on that bad doggie!"
"I gave him a little push, but we all planned it together," said Cynthia. "Wecan all take credit!"
"I agree," said Sandy, "but what about, uh, uh, . . . . "
"Spit it out, sweetie!" said Cynthia, sloshing her glass. The champagne wasstarting to have an effect.
"Well . . . what about the prophecy?"
"Ah, the prophecy!" said Cynthia. "I think we struck a blow against superstitioustommyrot today, don't you? 'We defy augury,' as Hamlet or somebody once said."
"Well . . . okay," said Sandy. "Could I have some more champagne?"
Just then, Billy Bob Buford, from the nearby village of Butcher's Swallow,stepped into the clearing. He was scrawny, with wispy brown hair and prominent,crooked teeth. He wore tattered jeans, a tattered blue work shirt with themotto, "Put'em Down Pest Control," on the front, and a floppy, broad-brimmedhat. He also wore, strapped to his back, a metal tank with a hose and nozzle.He was holding the hose in his hands, the nozzle pointed at the Sisters.
"We didn't call for an exterminator," said Sandy.
"Sorry, ladies," said Billy Bob, "I'm workin' for myself today." And withthose words, he squeezed a trigger on the nozzle.
Billy Bob had seen the Sisters one night while staggering home from the localtavern. Luckily for him, he fell into a ditch before they noticed him. He tooka peek from the ditch and convinced himself that this was no alcohol-inducedhallucination. No, these were clearly the notorious Sardonica girls, the mostalluring and dangerous fays for miles around. Wouldn't it be niceto catch 'em ? he thought. And then his brain, which had more insand outs than most folks suspected, started casting around for a plan.
It took weeks, but he finally hit on something promising. Large quantitiesof fay-nip grew in the gullies around Butcher's Swallow. It is widely knownthat fay-nip is a powerful fairy stimulant. "What if I gave 'em a concentrateddose?" Billy Bob said to himself one day. He checked some reference materialsat the local lending library, and it seemed he was on the right track.
So he gathered up all the fay-nip he could find, ground it with a mortarand pestle, then mixed it with water in his bathtub. Then he transferred themixture to an industrial-strength bug-sprayer he'd borrowed from work. Ihope this does the trick , he thought when he saw the girls inthe clearing. If it didn't, he had no fall-back plan (fall-backs had neverbeen his forte).
Before the three startled fays could react, they were drenched with BillyBob's fay-nip spray. They leapt up into the air to fly off, but just then thespasms began, much stronger than anything a blossom or two of fay-nip couldinduce. Their wings snapped together, and they fell to the ground with threeheavy thuds. "Oof!" "Unnhh!" "Ow!" they said.
Billy Bob was waiting with three lengths of rope. Knowing his fay lore, hequickly bound the girls' wrists behind them. (Stunned and fay-nipped as theywere, he had little trouble.) Once bound by a man, they could not escape, unlesshe let them go, and Billy Bob had no intention of letting them go. Then helined them up on their backs, pussy next to pretty pussy. They were tremblingviolently, their breasts heaving, their knees knocking together.
"Ooooo!" Cynthia groaned. "Talk about a . . . reversal of fortune!" And,overcome by this turn of events, she began to cry and kick her lovely legs.
"You sure . . . fixed our cabooses!" wailed Salome, and then she was sobbingand kicking along with her sister.
"Oh! Oh!" was all Sandy could manage before she, too, began to bawl and kick.
This went on for a few minutes, every one of which Billy Bob thoroughly enjoyed.Then Cynthia sniffed and said: "We're . . . especially pretty when we get allwhimpery-weepy . . . don't you think?"
"I surely do, Miss," said Billy Bob. "And what might your point be?"
"Well," said Cynthia, blinking away some of her tears, "You're an . . . attractiveand resourceful fellow. And believe me, it's not just any man who can makegirls like us get kicky. You're lucky to have us, you know!"
"I reckon I am," said Billy Bob. "Go on, please."
"Well, don't you, uh, want it to last?"
"Want what to last?"
"Well, us, you silly man: us doing stuff for you, being your servants . .. your slaves!" Salome and Sandy nodded vigorously at this. "We can do . .. whatever you want," Cynthia purred.
"Whatever I want," said Billy Bob. "Hmmmm. Well girls, here it is: you said'get kicky,' but you've barely started. What I want is to see you kick tillyou . . . can't kick no more, if you follow my meaning."
Cynthia's eyes got very big. "I . . . I follow it . . . but I don't wantto!" she cried. She and the others began to tremble with renewed force. "Youcan have us . . . forever. Forever! Surely you'd want that instead?"
"Ladies," he said, "it's like this. While I was gettin' ready for this littlemeetin' of ours, I did some readin' on you and your kind. And it looks as thoughfairies and long-term relationships just don't mix. And there's somethin' else:you may find this hard to believe, but I don't get a whole lot of respect inButcher's Swallow. Now who does get respect wherever he goes? That's right:a fairy-killer, like that Coyote fella. If I was Billy Bob the Fairy-Killer,I bet I'd have free beer whenever I wanted! And besides, there's the rewardmoney."
"Re-reward money?" Sandy said.
"Yup. A thousand dollars a gal from the Marshal if I bring you in."
"But . . . but . . . he'll hang us!" Salome shrieked.
"Oh no! Please don't!" cried Sandy. "Anything but that!"
"Anything! Anything!" Cynthia chimed in.
"Girls, girls, the Marshal ain't gonna hang you!" said Billy Bob with a laugh.
"No?" said Cynthia, and the relief on her face was palpable.
"No. The reward's the same whether I bring you in dead or alive. And withall that fay-nip I spritzed on you, I'm afraid it's gonna be dead. If thosemagic books at the library are right, you should be feelin' what they call'the killin' tremors' in another minute or so."
"But we're . . . we're too beautiful to die!" Cynthia sobbed.
"Yes great hunter, have mercy on our beauty!" Salome added.
"Too beautiful, too beautiful!" Sandy threw in.
"But you see, girls," said Billy Bob,"you're gonna be more beautiful thanever before, because you're dyin'! And anyway, I couldn'treverse the effects of the fay-nip now even if I wanted to–which I don't.It's time to be good little wicked fairies and get ready."
And just then, the killing tremors began. The three luckless fays shook evenmore violently than before. They drew their legs back, or kicked out hard,or twisted them this way and that; but nothing brought any respite. Throughoutthis ordeal, a terrible pressure was building up in their pussies. At longlast, relief came: orgasm after painful orgasm; and they groaned in despairingecstasy with each.
"Wow, I want a taste of that!" said Billy Bob; so he held Cynthia's legsdown and put his lips and tongue up to her cunt. "Sweet . . . sweet," he said,and then he bit down. Cynthia wailed now, and her wail was something beyondordinary despair. He went on to the others and bit them too, made them wailjust as their sister had. And what he had said before was true: tear-stainedand hopeless, their faces were now more beautiful than ever.
They didn't last much longer. A few final, sad little kicks, a few sobs andwhimpers, and they were still. Billy Bob licked up the last juice from eachpussy. Then he went and got the pickup truck.
Part III
Coyote had rid himself of most of the concertina effect, though his bodystill emitted a faint wheezing sound if he leaned the wrong way. He was walkingdisconsolately down the highway, not far from the crossroads. Just then heheard an car engine behind him. He looked back and saw what appeared to bea pickup truck, approaching at a high rate of speed. Still very sore, Coyoteneeded a lift, so he stepped into the middle of the road and raised his thumb.The pickup ran him over at 120 miles per hour.
Flattened once again, he pulled himself into something like his normal shapejust in time to see the back of the fast-receding truck. The gate had beendropped; hanging down over its edge were three lovely pairs of legs, all shodin black high heels.
"It can't be," said Coyote. "It can't be." He sighed, brushed himself off,then resumed his trek. Whee-rraww, whee-rraww .
The End
Jeannie
- 28.04.2022
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