Posted by C on January 28, 2001 at 14:47:46:

Part III.

By C

The band of fifty or so fairies had waited at the northern border of the kingdom for three days. Like all fairy military personnel, they wore uniforms: a shift, sleeveless but with epaulettes, along with the usual panties and pumps, all matching their hair.

A messenger reported to the commandress, a strong-featured fairy with silver tresses: “No word yet, Mistress.”

The commandress turned to her officers. “Your assessment?”

“They’ve been caught most likely, Mistress,” said one of them, a lavender-haired lovely.

“If they haven’t and we come back without them, the Queen’ll string us up personally,” said the commandress. “We wait.”

“But Mistress, those beasts may be at large!” There was an unmistakable note of fear in the girl’s voice as she spoke, and the commandress saw fear in the eyes of all of them. Saw it and felt it herself.

“I understand your concerns, but it’s like this. Those five agents have a ton of our magic tied up inside of them. Also, their leader is the Queen’s niece. So we need them, and our lives may not be worth much if we haven’t made an all-out effort to retrieve them. What’s more, we know those beasts have great power, but we also know it fizzles fast. If, devil forbid, they’ve caught our girls, they won’t be a threat. If they haven’t . . . well, there are fifty of us, including our best speargirls and archers. Let ‘em come!”

Even as she spoke, she had a strange fluttery feeling in her tummy and groin. Why? As she looked at the anxious faces of the others, she guessed—accurately—that they were feeling the same sensation. A few girls reached down absent-mindedly and stroked their lower bellies, as if for comfort.

“Let’s have a quick review, shall we?” said the commandress. She was turning away just when catastrophe, complete and irretrievable, befell them.

Fairies had gained some knowledge—at bitter cost—about the magic co-yo-te. They knew its only goals were to catch and dispatch fairies. Whenever it could, it would bag them, strip off their panties, then make them climax and die under the tender ministrations of its teeth and tongue. They knew it was an emergency weapon only, using prodigious amounts of magical energy and needing months to recuperate after just one or two kills. They did not know, however, what happened when the beast was frustrated, as these co-yo-te had been. Frustration caused a quintupling of its energy, and of its desire.

The commandress saw, out of the corner of her eye, a fast-moving blur. As she saw it, it struck her and knocked her to her knees. She felt the sting of sharp teeth on her right thigh and screamed, despite herself. She heard more screams all around her. She struggled to get to her feet, and discovered she could not. The strange feeling in her tummy was back and growing stronger. On all sides of her, her officers were on their knees as well, clutching their stomachs, fluttering their wings with no result, and trembling like leaves in a storm. Venom! she thought; but could it be this fast-acting?

She shouted: “Archers! Speargirls!” and sure enough, several of them appeared at one end of the clearing, their weapons at the ready. At the other end stood the five co-yo-te. She could see them plainly now. They were panting, their big tongues lolling out over their wicked teeth, and—by devil—they seemed to be grinning. She looked back at her soldiers and saw something that made her quake with dismay: their eyes were wide with terror, and several were dropping their weapons. A few arrows and spears flew, but entirely missed the mark. In just the wink of an eye, the co-yo-te had crossed the clearing and were among them, lunging and biting. The discomfited girls shrieked as sharp teeth found their breasts, their legs, their groins. Those who hadn’t fallen completely under the co-yo-te spell now took to the air in panic. Some collided with trees or with each other, and so fell back to earth and were caught that way. The remainder, half the force, flew north, never once looking behind them. Everywhere on the ground, fairies were screaming, wailing, sobbing.

The commandress tried to move again. Strange spasms went through her and she found herself face-up with her legs in the air, her knees drawn back toward her chin. Her hands lay helpless at her sides. She had wet herself. Now something gripped her hair and began pulling her along. She looked back and saw, with a shudder, that it was a co-yo-te. Around her, its four friends were doing the same to another four girls. They tried to struggle. Some cried: “No! No! Please, no!” But it made no difference. For the next several minutes, the co-yo-te lined them up in two trembling, whimpering rows. The venom had affected them all in the same way: all they could was to kick helplessly at the air.

For a while, nothing happened. The co-yo-te just sat there, surveying their splendid trophy line. Had they ever bagged so many at once? the commandress wondered. Perhaps they were congratulating themselves!

Then, suddenly, each picked out a girl and went for her panties. This involved a lot of nipping, as the beasts slowly loosened these garments and bunched them up at their owners’ knees. Many of the girls cried out: “No, not my panties! Not my panties!” (Losing them was a great disgrace for a fairy.) The creatures just de-pantied another five, and another, and so on.

When it was time for her bottom to be bared, the commandress cried like a little lost fairy girl. She had known for a long time that she might wind up dangling from a rope. (Whether King Ropemaker or her own Queen would pull the lever was the big question.) But this! This was far more humiliating. All she could do was weep and flail her feet helplessly.

Soon, every girl was stripped. Again, there was a pause. “What . . . what are they going to do?” asked one of the younger fairies. The others just whimpered. The commandress had a good idea of what was coming, but thought it best not to say.

The minutes drew on. Then came the last act. Five girls screamed in abject despair as sharp teeth pierced their tender pussies. The others screamed as well, from sympathy and terror. After the first hard bite, the critters licked and nuzzled, licked and nuzzled, while a terrible pressure built up in the groins of their victims. It was sharp pain and exquisite pleasure all at once. It grew to where they could no longer bear it, and then it grew some more. They were driven half-mad. Their legs, which had been locked in the air, now freed up once again, and with each climax the caught girls kicked out hard in front of them. (One spiked heel jabbed a co-yo-te in the nose. He yipped in pain and drew back to a respectful distance.) When the hardest of the climaxes were over, the co-yo-te closed in again and greedily lapped up the sweet moisture that dripped from every trembling pussy. After some minutes of this, the five girls were still. Their captors went on to another five, and another, and another . . . .

The commandress was in the fifth and last group of five. Like all the others, she screamed and wailed, and was driven nearly mad with painful pleasure, and kicked hard again and again at nothing. These were her last coherent thoughts: Oh devil, how I hate everything male. They catch us, they strip us, they destroy us, they always do, they always do . . . .

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The next day, the twenty-five survivors from the fairy force were cowering on their knees before their Queen. “You abandoned your sisters,” she said. “You left my niece Elaine and her lieutenants to their fate. You deserted your comrades-in-arms when you should have died next to them. Does that about sum it up?” They said nothing and kept their heads down. “You’ve displeased me, and you know very well the penalty for displeasing me. Guards!” The guards marched up, bound the girls’ hands behind them, and then escorted them, trembling and weeping, out to the main plaza. A huge gallows, with twenty-five nooses, was already waiting.

After the disgraced soldiers were marched up before the assembled fairies, their panties, by order of the Queen, were taken down to their knees. Nooses were drawn tight around their necks. A drum roll commenced. When it finished, the Queen gave a signal. A lever was pulled. The twenty-five dishonored girls hung there in mid-air, their pretty legs writhing. Many lost control of their bladders and sprinkled the ground with a fine stream. After a few minutes, it was over.

Later, the Queen surveyed herself in a full-length mirror in her bedchamber. She saw, as always, a lovely, winged woman with long, royal scarlet hair. But she saw something new: genuine fear. So much of their magic gone. Their best soldiers gone. A successful invasion by King Ropemaker or some other enemy was now a very real danger. For just an instant, she had a vision of herself with her hands tied behind her and a noose around her pretty neck. She was kicking, kicking, kicking--at nothing. She turned from the mirror and threw herself on the bed. There she pounded the pillow with her fists and thrashed the air with her feet. She couldn’t stop crying.

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The old woman heard a scratching at her door and a faint whimpering. She opened it, and the five co-yo-te, now back to puppy-size, ran in and muzzled her face with all their strength. “My babies!” she said. “I wasn’t sure you’d ever get back! Did you make some bad fairies cry? Did you, did you?” She looked into their eyes, and her breath caught at what she saw there. “Good lord. five, and then twenty-five, and then (indirectly) another twenty-five. And then, maybe, just maybe . . . that whole evil kingdom may just get cleaned out. Oh my little dear ones! I never imagined. You must be more tired than you’ve ever been. Don’t worry, I’ll let you sleep for a year if you need it.” And she took them to their kennel.

The End.