MR. COYOTE AND THE MERMAIDS

By C

I. The Journey

Every now and then, Coyote had a yen to travel. Since he was (generally) a considerate coyote, he would map out his itinerary and get a hunting license for the route he planned to take. This time, he was going to the seaside territory of Lemuria, so he looked into the cost of a fishing license. To his delight, he found he could do a week's worth of unlimited fishing and hunting for a reasonable fee. "Just let me pack!" he said. He loaded his magic backpack with all the gear he could think of, including a small harpoon. Then he set out.

He went on foot, whistling and occasionally howling to pass the time. Within a few days, he'd arrived in Lemuria, a place of lush forests and pretty seaside villages. The forests were as he'd remembered them from an earlier trip; if anything, they'd spread and gotten denser. The farms and villages were a different matter. Every one he came to appeared to be deserted. Grain was rotting in the fields. What's up? he wondered.

He decided to investigate further, and he picked a village where the forest had encroached almost to the very shore. Another oddity: across from the village, about a half-mile out at sea, was a big island with a sheer, rocky face, overhanging a cove. He had been up this coast once before, and had never seen this island. Sudden geological events were not unheard of in the Land of Mythica, so maybe this was no big deal. But he wanted to learn more.

He went from door to door in the village. Every cottage, it seemed, was empty. He was just about to give up, when someone shouted out behind him: "Put 'em up, varmint!" He turned and saw an old man in ragged clothes. The man had a double-barreled shotgun pointed straight at Coyote's cojones. He quickly raised his paws.

"Uh, sir, you may be laboring under a misapprehension . . . . " Coyote began.

"Hunh?" said the old man. Then he said: "Hang on a minute . . . ." Keeping the gun trained on Coyote, he reached up and pulled what looked like plugs from his ears. "Just tell me this, son. You some kinda fay?"

"Certainly not," said Coyote. "I catch and eat fays."

"Well, you came to the right goddamn place. They've taken over."

"Before we, uh, go any further sir, could you point that thing in another direction?"

"What? Oh, sorry." He turned the barrel downward. "I suppose this wouldn't have done any good against fays anyhow."

"Exactly," said Coyote. "It takes--you might say--a special touch to catch and kill a fay."

"And I s'ppose you're tellin' me you got that touch?" the man asked in a harrumphing tone of voice. Coyote nodded proudly.

"Cocky little carnivore, aintcha? Well, 'scuse me while I put these back in. You can come to my place for a sitdown if you want; just speak real loud."

So Coyote accompanied the strange old man to his home.

When they got there, the man showed Coyote a place to sit and gave him a tin cup with a throat-burning liquor in it. Then he took out his earplugs again. "I don't think I'll need these till nightfall. That's the only time so far that I've heard the call."

"The call?" Coyote asked.

"You deaf, son? The call. It's a beautiful . . . singin' like, and when you hear it, you want to head out into that goddamned forest . . . or into the sea. But if'n you do, that's the end of you. Most of the men hereabouts heard the call . . . and followed it."

"Why don't you begin at the beginning?" said Coyote. He had an inkling that what he would hear would be familiar.

"The beginnin'. Well, it's like this. Part of the order of nature is forests that don't get too big, and islands that don't appear outta nothin', and women mindin = their menfolk. Leastways around here. We're not quite as magical along the coastline as some o' you other folk. No offense."

"None taken."

"Well, inside o = one month, nature went out the window. The forest came down and swallowed near everythin' up. That goddamned island popped up outta the sea. And the women stopped obeyin' their men. In fact, they all left, includin' my wife 'n' two daughters! Purty redheads, all three of 'em, and sweet 'n' mindful of their place, until things changed. Then, when they was gone, the call . . . the singin' . . . it started. One man after another went in search of the voices that was callin', and they all disappeared. I think they all died, I do. I knew my number'd be up sooner or later, so I started wearin' earplugs. I hear the call--only at night so far--but it's faint, and so far I can fight it. Still, I ain't young, and I aint gettin' stronger."

"Please go on," said Coyote.

"After the others was gone, I started seein' fays everywhere. Used to be, you'd see somethin' like that once or twice a year. But now the air is full o' little butterfly gals. Real purty little things, but mean as snakes. They killed my dogs, my cat, my goats. They . . . they drink blood. I think if I ventured out a ways into the forest, I'd see other, bigger fays, just before they kilt me. So I don't go there. I don't think the call comes from the forest though; no, everytime I've heard it, it's been comin' over the water. From that island."

"I think I can help you," said Coyote.

"How's that?"

"Well . . . this sounds like some manifestations I've read about. In some places, at some times--nobody knows why--the forces of magic get out of balance. Here it looks as if the female force has gotten stronger than it should be. When that happens, all the evil female fays within hundreds of miles flock to the site of the imbalance. They're hoping they can add their energy to what's already there and make the change permanent. If they can do that, they may create a separate female realm, into which unlucky males are transported from time to time for them to torture and kill, or . . . ."

"Or what?" said the old man.

"Or . . . the change might spread, till all of Mythica is infected."

"So girls might take over everythin'?"

"Evil girls," said Coyote. "In most species--except some spider varieties and a few others--men wear the pants and girls wear the panties; good girls know the difference, and submit. Bad girls want more, and really evil girls, with enough supernatural power, want everything there is. Somehow your wife and daughters were corrupted, and so they left."

"Good gods," said the old man. "Can you get' em back?"

"I don't know . . . ." said Coyote. He had an inkling the answer was no, but he'd break that to the old man later.

"So you'll help me? I mean--you got lotsa reasons to do it on your own account."

"Exactly," said Coyote. "But, believe it or not, I think I'm going to need some female help." Without explaining himself, he picked up his backpack where he had left it on the floor and walked out into a clearing in front of the old man's cottage. Once there, he rummaged around in it until he found the box he was looking for and pulled it out. In big letters on the side, the old man could read: ACME SEA SPIDERS: FUN FOR THE WHOLE HUNTING FAMILY! Coyote opened the box and pulled out what looked like a gray silk bag. He turned to the man and said: "It's been dehydrated for storage and shipping. Could you bring me a pot full of cold water?"

When he was given the water, Coyote slowly trickled it down over the bag, until it looked entirely soaked, then he laid it gently on the ground. Within minutes, the bag grew in size, until it was about as big as a medicine ball. Next, Coyote and the man could see long black legs poking through the material and slowly shredding it.

"I'm none too partial to giant spiders," said the man.

"You don't have a thing to fear from these girls," said Coyote. "They hanker after a different prey entirely."

"How do you know they're girls?"

"In this species, they're all girls. They woke up one morning and found they could do both jobs now, and that was the end of the boys."

"Oh," said the old man.

It took half an hour, but finally the bag was reduced to a few strands of dirty-looking silk. There, in its place, stood three night-black spiders, each as big as a mid-sized dog. "Are you our Mommy?" said one of the spiders to Coyote.

"I'm none too partial to spiders that can talk," said the old man.

Coyote motioned him to be quiet and approached the creatures. "I'm not exactly your mom," he said. "But I'll do what I can to help you out. You're sea spiders, and your favorite food comes from the sea. But you're still a little young and unsteady for an ocean voyage, so I want you to go into that forest and see what you can rustle up. Bring it back here by tomorrow morning. And for goodness' sake, don't kill anything until I've had a chance to look at it. Can you do that, girls?"

"Sure, Mom, but it'll be hard not to eat anything till then."

"Fair enough," said Coyote. "Get yourself a meal, but save some extras for me." He turned to the man. Just then, something yellow-winged came fluttering by and headed into the forest. Coyote got a clear view of it: a butterfly girl, about the size of an adult cat, dressed in a yellow shift with matching panties and heels. She didn't seem to have noticed the spiders. "Go get her, girls," he said, and they went scuttling off.

"Butterfly girls are mean and stupid," said Coyote. "Unless my girls catch something else, we won't learn much. So let's just cross our claws and wait for the morning."

II. Butterflies Bagged

Next morning, after a restful sleep in one of the old man's spare beds, Coyote went out to take a leak. He paused in the clearing in front of the cottage and whistled. Sea spiders like to ambush their prey directly rather than waiting for it to blunder into a web. They prefer webs for storage,

and that's exactly what confronted Coyote as he looked out toward the forest. A huge, trembling expanse of silk, gemmed with dew, stretched between two trees in front of him. It took a second for him to process what he was seeing, but then he made out that the web was decorated with more than dewdrops. Stuck to it, at regular intervals, were about twenty captured butterfly girls, their arms pinned to their sides with silk, their wings fastened together behind them. It was their frightened trembling that made the web tremble. Coyote realized just then that he could hear the girls' piping, high-pitched voices. Some just sobbed with the hurt of their capture. Others cried out: "Caught, caught, caught . . . ." "Stung me . . . stung me . . . ." "Why? Why? Why? . . . ." Coyote strode over to the web.

Seen close up, they were strikingly pretty little fays. They had yellow wings, or white, or blue, or green, or red, and their outfits all matched their wing-color. Near the middle, he saw the yellow girl he'd caught a glimpse of the day before. He reached up to pull her from her sticky prison and discovered that she was quite easy to detach from the surface on which she'd been mounted. He was a little careless, and she reached her head down and bit his paw.

"Ow, you little bitch!" He hurled her to the ground. There was now a tiny hole in his forelimb, welling blood. He got a band-aid and disinfectant out of his backpack and treated the wound. He then picked the girl up off the ground, much more carefully than he had handled her before. The webbing still bound her tightly, and his grip was firm, so all her squirming and struggling were in vain.

"Bad doggy!" she piped. "This . . . can't . . . be happening! Bad doggy!"

"But it is happening," he said. "Now tell me: who's your leader? It'll hurt a lot worse if you don't."

"Leader? Everything got good. We came. You . . . spiders . . . can't be happening!"

"Did someone tell you this would never happen? Did someone say you wouldn't be caught?"

She just stared at him, a look of complete bewilderment on her lovely face. Obviously, she knew nothing. She and her sisters had just flown where the kind of evil that fostered them was strongest.

It was time to finish up. He gently slipped one of his claws beneath the waistband of her panties. She began to wail and beg: "No! No! No!" He ignored her pleas and drew the panties down to her ankles, which were bound together with webbing. Then he pushed her legs back and put the very tip of his tongue against her vulva. (He knew that the venom secreted by his tongue would start a burning itch there.) She screamed and discharged a salty-sweet mix of honey and vinegar. He swallowed this with relish and kept massaging the space between her legs. She squealed and cried; he could plainly see the tracks of little tears down her diminutive face. He kept on going. Her struggles became more violent, and her feet started kicking. He counted six orgasms--six discharges of delicate liquor--before her body stiffened in his paw and she was gone. He opened wide and swallowed her.

Just then, the three spiders came out of the forest, each with a trembling, kicking addition for the giant web. "Marvelous work, girls," said Coyote. "I've had one already; if you don't mind, I'll take another five or so to finish up breakfast. You divvy up the rest and I'll do some reconnoitering in the forest."

"Sure thing, Mom," said one of them. Together, the four hunters attacked their meal.

III. Vampires Vanquished

After the sobbing and the tears, the squeals and the shrieks, and the plucking of many pairs of little panties, Coyote spent the rest of the day exploring. At dusk, he decided to plunge into the depths of the forest. It was at night, after all, that the call came. The spiders asked if he'd be safe, and he told them (with foolish bravado) that he could handle himself.

He shouldered his backpack and set out. After a few minutes of walking, he found a stream full of chilly water. He stopped to drink. As he greedily guzzled, he heard an unmistakably feminine voice: "Are you here to hurt us?"

He looked up and in the twilight he could clearly see three beautiful, smiling women, each with brilliant red hair. They wore red shifts that reached to just above their navels, white panties, and red and white pumps. Each had a pair of velvety red batwings. One, the woman who'd spoken, was clearly older than the other two, perhaps in her thirties. The younger ones were about eighteen and nineteen. The old man's wife and daughters , Coyote said to himself.

"Am I here to hurt you? That depends, ma'am. I'm not too hungry at the moment, but if you're evil fays, that won't help you."

"Evil? Goodness no. We just wanted to be free, and now we are."

"How many people have you killed in just the short time you've been 'free'?"

"Why . . . no one at all. Don't be silly." Her smile had been replaced by a look of anger. "What do you have against ladies who choose their own paths?"

"Your proper paths were chosen for you when you were born in Mythica: to be protected and cherished by men, and to obey them. May I ask, ma'am, when did your husband last take you to his bed?"

"About . . . a month ago," she said, with the look of someone distracted and half-dreaming on her face.

"He slipped your panties down, didn't he? Just like all the times before, all the way back to your wedding night?"

"Yes . . . . " she said. Coyote inched closer.

"Those panties are a symbol: of your weakness and vulnerability, and of your surrender to the good man who pledged himself to look after you. When he took them down, he was claiming what's . . . ."

"Mom!" shrieked one of the girls. "He's trying to hypnotize you!" All three hissed and bared long, sharp canine teeth.

Foolish to try that trick on three at a time , thought Coyote. He squared off and got ready for a fight. Then, to his dismay, he realized they were hypnotizing him. "You can't move," they said in unison. " You're weak . . . you're vulnerable." His paws dropped to his sides.

Just then, three dark shapes dropped down from the overhanging trees. A sea spider landed on the bosom of each vampire and clung there. The wicked trio screamed as needle-sharp fangs pierced their tender flesh. They beat at the spiders with their fists, but these just glanced harmlessly off the hard black shells. Soon the powerful spider toxins did their job, and all three fell thrashing to the ground.

"You've saved my life, girls!" said Coyote. "I don't know how I can repay you!"

"You're our Mom; of course we saved you!" said one of them.

"Now--I know you'd like to chow down," said Coyote, "but vampires aren't very good to eat. If you're hungry, I want you to go look for some more butterfly girls, OK?"

"OK, Mom," they said, and off they went. Coyote was telling the truth here; the three spiders, of whom he was starting to grow very fond, might get sick if they feasted on vampire.

He went over to the three captured women, who were moaning and whimpering, and started to question them.

"Why should we tell you anything?" asked one of the girls. Coyote bit her on her already wounded breast. When she was done screaming, he said: "That's why."

"Tell him . . . everything," said the mother, her face wet with tears. "Just . . . tell him."

So they did. It was a band of mermaids who had set off the imbalance with powerful magic they had recently discovered. They had caused an island to thrust up out of the sea and used it for their headquarters. They had made the forest spread. They had summoned in every evil female fay who would heed their call. And they had gone to work on the human beings in the neighborhood, seducing the men to their destruction and turning receptive women into fays. The mother and her two daughters had drained the blood of dozens of men, as well as a few women who wouldn't go along.

"And now for your punishment," said Coyote. He stripped each vampire of her panties, then
held the garments, wet with urine and honey, up to the sky. (Each lady had a pubic patch of the same
unnaturally bright red hair that adorned her head.) "Since you've dishonored these," he said, "they
can kill you now." Realizing what was coming, they shook their heads violently and begged for
their lives. Unmoved, he strangled each woman with her own underpants. He then waited by the
bodies until they turned into dust

IV. Nereids Netted

When Coyote met up with the spiders back at the cottage, he said: "Ladies, it's almost time to get your sea legs." He explained what they were going to do, and then they had the best sleep they could.

They got up just before dawn. He took his harpoon out of his backpack and gripped it firmly in his right paw. Then the fay-killing quartet went down to the shore. They looked out at the island and could make out the cove quite clearly. "That's where they'll be," said Coyote. "Let's go whip some pretty ass."

The spiders walked out onto the water, then began to dart back and forth, like skaters on ice. When they'd gotten fully accustomed to the new surface, each spun out a sturdy cable from her behind. Coyote twisted these into a single cable, which he tied around his waist. Then they were off. They took an indirect path, weaving here and there over the water, but all the while gradually approaching the island. Coyote's plan was for the spiders to drop him off on the island's far side, along with the cable. They would then proceed to the cove, to carry out their part of the assignment.

When they reached the shore, Coyote took up the cable and wished his brave charges good luck. Then he headed inland, the silken line in one hand, his harpoon in the other. The ground

rose quickly, and soon he was climbing rather than walking. Finally, he came to a cliff, from which he could see the mainland he had just left. Right below, two hundred or so feet down, was the cove. It had a narrow beach. Lying on the beach, very close to the water, were twenty or more mermaids--sleeping, he hoped.

He untwisted the cable into its three parts and tied these end to end. Then he made one end fast to what looked like a secure outcropping. He tied the other end around him, just under his shoulders. Down he went, hoping to rely on hand- and toe-holds rather than a single strand of spider silk. At one point he did lose his grip; the silk turned out to be as strong as steel, and he was able to swing himself back to the cliff-face without a mishap. When he reached the end of the spider cable, it was a safe drop to the beach, so down he jumped. He hit the sand and immediately hid behind a bush.

All the while he was climbing down, the mermaids hadn't budged. Apparently they were resting after a night devoted to evil. He now got a better look at them: beautiful, of course, they were women down to their groins, with big scaly fish tails of the most brilliant colors: turquoise, scarlet, lime green, yellow, orange. In each case, the mermaid's hair was exactly the same color as her tail. They lay there, many of them snuggled up together, as if they hadn't a worry in the world.

Coyote stepped out from behind the bush, the harpoon ready in his right paw. Just then a blue-haired, blue-tailed beauty sat up, raised her hands above her head, and said: "Oh no girls, we're caught!" The others sat up as well and, laughing, put their hands up, too. "We're caught! We're caught!" they merrily repeated. The blue girl then fixed his eyes with hers. "Drop the hurty thing right now," she said. And he did. He had never felt a more powerful hypnosis in his life. "Now just stand there." A tornado couldn't have dislodged him.

She threw back her luxuriant blue hair, then began to stroke her breasts with her hands. "Is this where you were planning to stick me?" she asked.

"That was one possibility," Coyote allowed.

Next she rubbed her belly, then drew a long-nailed finger along the hairless cleft at her groin. "More possible targets?"

"That's right."

She took a deep breath. "We lost track of a lot of our agents on the mainland, so we figured something was up. To judge by the number we can't contact anymore, I'd say you're pretty efficient. And I can tell . . . other things by looking into your eyes."

Now he had to hope that all the blocking spells he knew would deflect her from more important information to less.

"You seem to be completely without mercy." she said. "You'd be amazed how many people have a hard time killing a girl. But you got a taste for lady fays a long time ago. You like doing 'em."

"I can't lie, Miss. I surely do."

"Why do you think that is?"

"It's the pretty face. And the pretty body. And the pretty, perfumed slit down below. I could've eaten sheep, or goats, or whatever, but I learned early on that a pretty body that was squirming and trembling, a pretty face that was begging for its life . . . . Well, Miss, it was more than just an eating experience. And of course, if she's evil, well that takes it up another twenty notches."

"Why's that so important?"

"Because she's a threat to Mythica. And something about the gall of it: here's a world where males really do take care of their ladyfolk: always smile for them, always get them flowers, always hug them when they cry, and always do what they can to protect them, including laying down their lives for them. A female really is on a pedestal here . . . ."

"If she follows orders. Some of us aren't so good at that."

"Some of you are evil."

She laughed. "You're absolutely right, Mr. Coyote. My friends and I are evil." She gestured to the other mermaids and they began to laugh as well. "We want to replace peace and order with destruction and chaos. Men guarantee order, so we're down on most men. But I think there might be a place for you in our group. I want disorder, but not too much. I could use an enforcer. I'd feed you really well: all the disloyal fays you can eat."

"How long would I have to think about this . . . offer?"

"A minute or so. Would you really rather be dead?"

She had the fatal weakness of all female fays (indeed of all women): she couldn't stop talking. But she was inexorably pushing him to a point he didn't want to reach. If he said yes, just to go along with them, he might be subject to an obliterating curse for breaking his word to supernaturals. "When all the men are gone, how do you plan to, uh, make new evil fays?"

"You've seen our magic at work already, Mr. Coyote; you know it's pretty strong. All lady fays who've come within the range of it can now inseminate one another. So men just aren't necessary any more. We'll keep some around for entertainment, of course."

"How'd the imbalance come about?"

"We made it. We learned a spell that would cause a local disturbance. The mermen got wind of it just before we killed them, poor dears." More laughing from the cruel cuties. "The next step was to cram as many bad girls into the area of disturbance as we could, and we did that, too. The imbalance has spread, and it looks as if it'll continue spreading."

"All of Mythica under your fin," said Coyote.

"That's right," she said with a smirk. "Now what are you going to do?"

"I like to know who I'm agreeing with. What's your name?"

"Pantanassa. I need to know what you plan to do."

"That's a pretty name, for a very pretty lady."

"This is getting a little annoying. The next word out of your mouth had better be yes, if you don't want to die."

"Ye-," he started to say.

At just this moment a mermaid shot up from beneath the water about ten yards from shore, pointed out to the mouth of the cove, and screamed: "Sea spiders!" Sea spiders!" Several more girls surfaced and repeated the cry.

Everyone on shore now looked out to where the cove gave way to the broad blue sea. There, skating toward the beach at a leisurely pace, were the three spiders, two at either arm of the cove, and one in the middle. You couldn't see it, but they were drawing a huge net, a kind of purse sein, behind them below the water. To judge from their screams, the mermaids knew very well what the spiders were up to. Some just clutched at their breasts or tore at their beautiful hair and wailed with terror. (Nothing frightens a mermaid more than sea spiders.) Others dived deep, in hopes of swimming under the net they knew was coming. It was no use. The spiders had secreted several wads of hardenweb, a special stuff that takes on the density of stone or metal within minutes. They'd used the lumps to weight the net so that it reached all the way to the bottom. And, unlike a human net, it had sticky strands that caught any girl who tried to lift it and swim underneath.

Realizing the sea was a dead end, some of the mermaids looked to the land for their salvation and started slithering for tree cover. Pantanassa was one of these. They had forgotten Coyote, and, panicked as they were, they could no longer bind him anyway. He snatched up his harpoon, ran to the mermaid leader, and flipped her on her back with his foot. She raised her hands in supplication, all her arrogance replaced by tearful terror. He brought the harpoon down hard, right between her navel and her cleft. The sound that came from her now was half groan, half shriek. He knew she wasn't going anywhere, so he pulled out his weapon and went to the next girl, and the next. Within at most a few minutes, he had harpooned every fay on the beach, twenty or so girls. Meanwhile the spiders had come ashore. They drew their big net out of the water, and it held at least another thirty. The spiders dashed from victim to screaming victim, both theirs and Coyote's, pumping a strong dose of venom into each. Once stung, the girls could squirm and beat the sand with their tails, but that was about all, aside from crying bucketsful. (Pantanassa cried more bitterly than any of the others.) Coyote then spent the next couple of hours disentangling the netted fays and lining everyone up on the beach with a twist of web pinning her arms to her sides.

Caught fays have a scent that's incomparable: a compound of honey, pine forests in autumn, and steaks crackling on a grill. When a fay is incontestably bagged, when her body knows its time has come, her breasts quiver and ache, her nipples harden and sharpen, and a rich, frothy milk spills forth; her cunt secretes--sometimes spurts--a clear honey-like nectar; and the tears that pour down her cheeks are perfumed. Every delightful liquid that she now distills in the extremity of her grief, pain, and shame contributes to the unforgettable fragrance. Coyote had greedily inhaled the scents of the netted butterfly girls and the three luckless vampires. Those were faintly discerned preludes compared to this: fifty or so mermaids, all ravaged and ruined! He drew in breath after breath charged with their aroma.

When everything--and everyone--had been put in order, it was time to leave the island. The spiders used their hardenweb to make hooks as strong and sharp as steel. Coyote slipped a hook into the belly of each mermaid, just above her vulva. Every one of them squealed pitiably when she was stuck. He then tied web cables to the hooks and clutched all the free ends in his right paw. The spiders would tow him, and he would tow the mermaids, back to the mainland. "Your last ocean voyage, ladies," he said. The mermaids sobbed and wailed in response.

The old man was loafing disconsolately on the beach when he saw Coyote and the spiders

come out of the water, pulling their spectacular catch behind them. He whooped and ran over to help them. Soon all the mermaids were at a safe distance from the water. No one would escape today.

It was time now for a speech. Coyote faced the trembling, crying, shuddering girls and said: "You've murdered the mermen who were appointed by benevolent magic to be your husbands, protectors, and masters. You've murdered God knows who else. You've thrown the realm of magical energy into disorder and imbalance. You've brought a horde of fays as evil as yourselves down on this innocent neighborhood. Have I missed something? I have three hungry, hard-working sea spiders here. I think they deserve the first pick." He turned to the spiders and said, under his breath, "Save the leader for me." "Sure, Mom," they said and started their meal.

A sea spider likes to grip a captured mermaid somewhat in the manner of a man holding a sandwich with both hands. It plants two legs on either side of the victim's groin, then pumps in more venom to minimize struggling. As the girl falls into a cycle of powerful death orgasms, the spider starts sucking out her juices. So it happened now. "No! No! No! Please, Devil, no!" the mermaids cried, or "It hurts! It hurts!" or "I'm caught I'm caught I'm caught!" (this time without laughter). The spiders were hungry, so each took three victims. The rest, except for Pantanassa, they wrapped and saved for later.

Coyote went to Pantanassa. "Your turn," he said.

"I'll obey! I'll obey!" she shrieked.

"I'm sure you will. I think I'll try those breasts now." When the wails, sobs, and whimpers were over, when she was done trembling, when she had flicked her tail for the last time, he stretched his jaws wide and swallowed her whole.

"Did you . . . did you find out anything about my wife and girls?" the old man asked. Coyote was fishing for an answer when a strange sound filled the air, something like the whirring of a dynamo.

"What in the gods' names . . .?" said the man.

"It's time for Redress," said Coyote, glad for the interruption. "There are hundreds, maybe thousands, of evil fays in the vicinity. The restored balance won't tolerate their continued presence. Just look!"
A vast cloud swarmed in towards them. When it got closer, they could see that it was compounded of hundreds of butterfly girls, flying in erratic circles, emitting fearful little cries. The cloud hovered now above the big spider web. Then, one by one, each fay gave an especially poignant squeak and dropped onto the sticky silk. Soon there would be no more room. Realizing what was happening, the sea spiders quickly spun new swatches of webbing, and these were soon occupied as well. "Tarnation," said the old man.

"About your womenfolk," said Coyote. "I, uh, saw three redheaded fays on the island . . . . The Redress hit there right away . . . and they died. I'm sorry."

"That was prob'ly them," the man said. "'Bout what I reckoned would happen. Oh well." He pulled out a handkerchief and blew his nose with a big honk. "Say: you and your, uh, friends are welcome to stay here a while. I'll spend the week tidyin' up, and then I'll be leavin' myself. Nothin' keepin' me here now."

"Thank you sir. A few days to rest up would be nice. My spiders have gotten their sea-legs, so I've a feeling they'll want to head out as soon as they're finished here."

And so it was. Within just two days, every evil mermaid had been sucked dry. It took another three days for Coyote and the spiders to polish off all those bad butterfly girls. Long before they finished, the ground was littered with tiny panties, looking for all the world like little flower petals. When at last every wicked fay had been brought to justice, Coyote and the old man waved goodbye as the three plucky spiders skated out to sea. Then Coyote shook the hand of his host and set out for home.

V. Incident of Travel

Coyote was making his way back along the coast road. He was at the outermost limit of the magical disturbance he had helped to quell, and he witnessed one last example of Redress before the landscape became dull and routine. He was coming around a bend in the road when he heard an agonized scream, clearly female, from the forest to his left. Curious, he followed his ears a few hundred feet into the woods, where he came upon a clearing. There, backed against a tree, was a land fairy, one of those fays who rely on their size and their strong legs to save them from predators. Her beautiful though rather plump face was framed by thick, night-black hair that reached to her waist. Her great, round breasts were enclosed, barely, by a lavender shift. Her tummy swelled gently out over lavender panties. Her big and shapely legs were set off by high heels, again lavender. She was formidable, but she was in mortal trouble: her face was now red and swollen with weeping; her breasts quivered like dollops of jello; her panties were soaked. What mighty bear or lion held her at bay? Nothing of the kind; just a common tomcat.

The Redress had weakened her right before the young cat came wandering by. He saw her and scented her fear, and so he ran up and snapped at her leg. Instead of kicking him aside with a crushing blow, she screamed and tried to run away, but a strange fatigue enveloped her. She had barely made it to the tree before she could go no farther. He was playing a game with her when Coyote came upon them: nipping at one leg, then the other. She shrieked with every bite. At one point she cried out: "Leave me alone! Leave me alone!" But the cat didn't comply. Coyote looked on, fascinated.

Finally, with a great effort, she raised one leg as if to kick at the little feline. His response was to dart in, leap up, and plunge his teeth into the band of lavender that stretched between her thighs. Her cry now was a long, bitter, shuddering wail. She fell gasping to the ground. The tomcat came up and started tugging for all he was worth at the waistband of her underpants.

"Let me help," said Coyote. While the little cat looked on with some degree of suspicion, Coyote wrestled the bagged fay's panties down her legs and over her toes. Sobbing, she struggled against him, but it was mostly her weight that made stripping her an effort. When he was done, he had to catch his breath. Then he pulled her legs far enough apart to allow the cat to run in and bury his tongue in the black-furred wetness of her cunt. She wailed again when the rough tongue went to work.

She looked at Coyote, and recognition now dawned. "You . . . you did this," she gasped.

"Yes I did, Miss."

"It was g-going to be all . . . all right. I was going to be a f-fine lady in the bad girl kingdom. Then you came along . . . . You k-killed us all. You killed us!"

"That's right," said Coyote, "with plenty of help."

"It . . . took two . . . two b-bears to b-bring my momma down . . . and I've been . . . caught by a cat! Caught by a cat! I'm so ashamed! Oh, my panties . . . my panties! Ohhhhhh, Momma, it hurts! It hurts it hurts it hurts! Unnhhh!"

"It's all right," said Coyote brusquely. "It feels good, too; admit it. And besides, you're going to be dead very soon. Why all the fuss?"

"Momma! M-momma!" she cried as the first of her death-orgasms came over her. It took a full half-hour for the kicking to stop.

"Have a feast, little guy," said Coyote, and went on his way.

THE END