AND THEN HE CAUGHT ME

By C

Part I

In the midst of the Old Forest was a green glade. For about a hundred feet in every direction, the gnarled, knotted ancient trees gave way to grasses, soft and lush. A stream passed through–its waters clear, unlike the murky stuff that oozed up from the ground elsewhere in the Forest. If you saw this place, you might think: What a delightful refuge! And so it was.

It was almost noon in the glade, when the near-silence that had reigned all morning was overthrown by a whir, starting out faint and getting steadily louder. No mystery here: three fairy ladies were descending from the sky. The sound came from their white, butterflyish wings, vibrating at hundreds of times a second to bring them in for a soft landing on the grass. They were–of course–very pretty ladies, one with hair of the brightest red, another with hair as gleaming-black as obsidian, the third with hair as yellow as a daffodil. Each wore a white halter top, with a mini-skirt and high-heeled boots of the same color as her tresses. As they descended, the air caught their skirts and whooshed them upward; their panties were brilliantly, spotlessly white.

The redhead–whose name was Rhodopis–touched down first and fell laughing on her back. She raised her shapely legs and pumped them at the sky. "We did it again!" she cried. "Oh, to be soooo wicked and get away with it! Isn't that the kickiest?"

The black-haired girl, Melantho, and the yellow-haired, Xanthe, fell laughing beside her and kicked up their heels as well. The source of their mirth? They had driven an entire village mad; its inhabitants had hanged themselves en masse . Then the evil trio had flown here at top speed. A special magic guarded this place, so that no predator large enough to harm them could enter. Until their next wicked foray, they were as safe as fairies could ever be.

Mirth quickly turned to lust, and before long the girls slipped free of their panties. Soon, the glade re-echoed with cries, groans, and sobs of pleasure. Then the wicked lovelies settled in for a well-deserved nap.

When they awoke, the sun had gone a good way toward the west. For some reason, it was unseasonably chilly, and they all hugged themselves and shivered.

"That's odd," said Rhodopis. "Someone remembers the big fluffy blanket spell, I hope?"

"Sure," said Melantho.

Xanthe gave a sudden, very audible shudder. "What's wrong, Xanth?" said her two friends in unison.

"G-goose walked on my grave, I guess. I don't know; I'm just cold."

Melantho snapped her fingers, and each girl now had a nice, comfy blanket.

"That's better!" said Rhodopis. "Oooo, I have to pee. Anyone else want to join me?"

"Definitely," said Melantho. Xanthe just nodded. So they got up, dropped the blankets with some reluctance, picked up their panties, and ran over to their customary spot. There they crouched down in a line and gave the ground a good watering. Each wiped herself with a clump of grass, then slipped her pants back on. Now they dashed back to the blankets, only to discover they'd been claimed by someone else. Seated on each, just like a little sphinx, was a small, white cat.

Such utter whiteness! They had no stripe or dab of black, or gray, or green anywhere on their bodies. Only their eyes—pale yellow—afforded any contrast. They appeared to be young males, with just a little more growing to do. The fairies looked closer and saw that each cat held something small and squirming under his forepaws.

"Oooo," said Melantho. "Kind of scary!"

"Definitely," said Xanthe. Her hands began to twist the hem of her skirt.

"Oh, relax!" This was Rhodopis. "They're cats, for crying out loud! They're too little to hurt us; if they could hurt us, they wouldn't have gotten past the magic! Now just calm down!"

"Y-you're sure?" Xanthe asked.

"Yes," said Rhodopis.

"W-what if they have venom?" asked Melantho.

"Well, duhhh." (Rhodopis rolled her eyes as she spoke.) "This is Mythica, you know. But it won't be enough from little guys like these. A nip might moisten you up a little–as if any of us needs help with that! But that would be it . . . . Now what do they have under their paws?" The girl came within a few feet of the cats, who just gazed at her with no apparent concern. Still nervous, Xanthe took Melantho's hand in hers and squeezed it.

When she got up close, Rhodopis could see that each cat had caught a Flutterby: a little fairy about six inches in height. The cats kept their paws pressed down on each victim's chest, so that–vibrate their wings, thrash their arms and legs as much as they wished–the prey could not escape. Despite all their kicking, it was easy to make out that these were two girls and a boy, for their underpants had been pulled to their knees. All three filled the air with their shrill, mournful cries. "Ohhhhh," Rhodopis moaned, and fell to her knees.

"What's wrong?" said Melantho. Xanthe clutched her hand so hard now that it hurt.

"Oh, the poor little things!" said Rhodopis. "It's got me . . . kind of hot. Come and see!"

So her two friends came up next to her, and they had to admit it was strangely exciting, in a sad sort of way. As they watched, the cats bent down and began to lick their victims between their legs. The captives cried and kicked harder. The girls' breasts heaved; the boy's cock was spurting. They seemed to take forever to die, though at last they did.

Rhodopis now slipped her right hand down into the front of her panties. When she withdrew it, her fingers were slick with fay honey. "Here kitty, kitty," she said, extending her hand to the cat in the middle, "why don't you try something stronger?"

"What are you doing now?" cried Melantho and Xanthe together.

"Just having some fun," said their friend as the cat reached out and began to lick her fingers. "Ow, his tongue is really rough! Here, you guys try it!" But Melantho and Xanthe kept their distance.

It was beginning to get dark. "All right, my little furry friends," said Rhodopis. I don't know about you, but we have a busy day tomorrow, and those are our blankets. So shoo!"

The cats looked a little indignant, but they got up and left, carrying their prizes in their mouths. The fairies wrapped themselves up and snuggled close together.

"I wonder why . . . ." said Melantho.

"Why what, Sweetie?" said Rhodopis.

"Why . . . that was so . . . interesting."

"Because," said the redhead, "sooner or later, something like that is going to happen to us."

"I wish you'd stop saying that . . . that sort of thing!" cried Xanthe.

"Well, it's the truth. 'For every fay, a catching-day,' 'No armor against fate,'–and so forth."

"Well I still wish you wouldn't say it."

"Honey, you have to have the right attitude. I just love it that so many hunters want my panties down. It's flattering as all get out. And every time I get away, every time I make a fool of some predator, I know that, in the end--when a predator finally makes a fool of me–it's going to be that much more explosive, that much kickier, when my pants come down for good. Especially if you two are there to share it with me."

"I sometimes think you want to get caught!" said Melantho.

"Not exactly," said Rhodopis. "You might say capture is the frosting on a wonderful, wicked life. I want it to be as . . . creamy as possible." And with that she giggled like a little girl.

"Well I'm sure I don't want to get caught," said Xanthe. I want to be wicked forever, and if I can't be wicked forever, I want to be wicked almost forever. You take too many risks, and if I weren't so in love with you, I'd leave, 'cause I've got a feeling you're going to get us bagged sooner rather than later."

"I'm glad you're in love with me," said Rhodopis, placing a hand between Xanthe's legs. It was the hand the cat had licked.

"You're changing the subject!" squealed the yellow-haired girl. There was something more than ordinarily tingly about her friend's touch.

"Of course I am. Come on, Melantho, I know you want to join in." Melantho did, and she noticed the same heightened sensation when Rhodopis went to work on her. The girls were soon sharing notes on just this subject.

"Do you think there's something special about these cats," asked Melantho, "or are we just imagining things?"

"Let's sleep on it," said Rhodopis.

Part II

The next morning, the temperature had returned to normal. The three fairies got up, had a nice, satisfying pee, ate some meadow flowers for breakfast, then took flight for new mischief. Today, they flew all the way to the Great River, to test a levy-charming spell that Rhodopis had learned. Sure enough, the levy gave way, and the resulting flood destroyed a village with all its inhabitants.

"Too fast!" said Rhodopis with a pout. "I wanted something I could savor a while."

"A bounty hunter's going to savor us if we don't high-tail it home," said Melantho. Rhodopis wanted to have more fun, but her friends were firm. So, with some reluctance, she followed them back.

It was late in the day when they returned to the glade, and once again it was strangely cold.

"Brrrr," said Melantho, "if this isn't the darnedest weather! I wonder what . . . ."

Just then, the cats walked into view. Each had something wiggly in his mouth. As they got closer, it became apparent what they had caught this time: three Mini-Mers from the stream that ran through the glade. These were the smallest of mer-folk, only about eight inches long. Gripped firmly at mid-body, the Mers were trembling and thrashing their miniature dolphin tails. This time the victims were all male: their tiny cocks were stiff in the manner of every fay-boy who knows his time is near. Rhodopis and her friends hear quite plainly their little sobs of despair. Once again, the cats went to work with their tongues. The boys sobbed even harder, and soon little jets of come exploded from their cocks. Their captors kept at it till there was nothing left to spurt.

All three girls fell to their knees this time and smeared their fingers with their own honey. The cats left the dead merboys where they lay and eagerly lapped up what was offered. Then they took hold of their prey once more and wandered off.

The fairies nearly tore each other's panties off this time. And as each got a good stroking from one of her friends, she had to agree: there must be something in the cats' saliva. It tingled, it almost stung, and the orgasms it prompted were tremendous.

"I'll bet it's . . . overwhelming for their victims!" Rhodopis said with a gasp.

"I . . . I'd imagine so," Melantho replied. "Are you (oh!) . . . sure this is safe?"

"Nope," said Rhodopis. "But the . . . (whew!) magic barrier let them in, so it should be OK. Now . . . if they were leopard- or lion-sized, we'd be . . . singing another tune!"

"There you go again!" said Xanthe. "You actually enjoy thinking about it!"

"What of it?" said the redhead. "Wouldn't big, beautiful cats be a lot nicer than some icky human? I know I'll have about zero say in how it really happens, so why not fantasize a little?"

"Why not think about it as little as possible?" Xanthe retorted.

"Why not get some sleep?" Melantho interjected. And so they did.

Part III

They got up at the usual time, had a good pee, and then proceeded to breakfast. Once again, the weather had turned warm. Finished with their morning tasks, they headed out to spread fairy mischief and mayhem. This time they blighted hundreds of acres of crops, and so virtually guaranteed a famine. "That'll be something to linger over!" said Rhodopis with a smile.

After a hard day of wickedness, they flew back to their refuge. What would be waiting for them when they returned? It wasn't long before they found out. It had gotten chilly again, and within minutes of their arrival, the cats appeared, each with something new in his mouth. This time they had caught a trio of Plump-Bottomed Warblers–the smallest of wingless fairies. The Warblers (all of whom, of course, were female) were kicking as if kicking were going out of style, their little high heels flashing in the waning sun. It made not a bit of difference–no more then did their tearful cries.

"I . . . I'm going to try something new," said Rhodopis.

"Now be careful!" Xanthe said. She didn't like the sound of this.

Rhodopis lay back in the grass and planted her bootheels about two feet apart. Her wings moved up and down with a slow, steady rhythm. The white band of panty between her thighs was plainly visible. She started to rub it with her hand. The others could see the fabric dampen.

One of the cats looked over at her, dropped his Warbler in the grass (he kept her in place with one of his paws), and gave out a quizzical "Mmrroww?" But then his attention returned to his catch.

"They want to finish their meal," said Rhodopis. "It's all right; I can wait."

And finish their meal they did, licking the little Warbler pussies with their rough tongues till the victims fell into what seemed a delirium of painful ecstasy. When it was over, the cats opened their mouths wide and swallowed their prey whole. Then the one who had earlier shown some interest in Rhodopis approached her.

When she saw him coming, Rhodopis pulled back her legs as far as they could go, until her red boots were pointed skyward. At first the cat just sniffed the damp white membrane between her thighs. Then, with no warning at all, he nipped her.

"Ouch!" Rhodopis cried, and her legs shot forward. The cat leapt out of the way just in time. "Rhodopis!" her two friends screamed.

"It's . . . it's OK. It just stings a little. Oh, it's . . . it's . . . really good!" And with these words, the girl raised her legs once more. "It's OK, baby," she said. "Come on back!" And after a while, the cat did. No more nipping; now he just stroked her with one feather-light touch of his tongue after another. Soon Rhodopis was whimpering with pleasure. "Ohhh!" she cried at one point, "I've never had so much fun with my panties on! Why don't you join me?" It took a few more minutes, but at last Melantho lay down next to her friend and raised her legs to the sky. A little later, a little more reluctantly, Xanthe lay down as well. Within minutes, the other two cats were fully occupied.

It was a strange sort of pleasure: it had a sting to it, a burning itch that made the girls cry even as

they were transported by delight. (They had to laugh when they saw each other weeping.) They thought they would soon plunge into a maelstrom of orgasms, but somehow they lingered at the edge rather than falling in. Then, for no obvious reason, the cats stopped and withdrew.

"Oh darnitall," said Rhodopis, wiping the tears from her eyes. "Regrouping, I guess. Say, do you remember that silly human rhyme?"

"All their rhymes are silly," said Melantho.

"The one about the turtle. You know: 'He snapped at the mosquito, he snapped at the flea, he snapped at the minnow, and he snapped at me.'"

"What brought that up?" Xanthe asked.

"Well, this is a lot like that. It goes on to say: 'He caught the mosquito, he caught the flea, he caught the minnow . . . but he didn't catch me!' Isn't that about what's happened here?"

"I guess so," said Xanthe. "What's your point?"

"Just an interesting coincidence, and maybe a good omen–I mean, since we seem to be like the human in the rhyme, not getting caught and all."

"Hmmm," said Xanthe and began to snore gently. Rhodopis looked over at Melantho and saw she was sleeping, too. "I can take a hint," said the red-haired girl, and before much longer she was out like her friends.

The fairy dreamt that something as big as a mountain, but moving, had come up to her and was now pressing her down with its terrible weight. A hot breeze blew on her face. Aside from the breeze, everything else was cold. "Please don't," she whimpered, and then she was awake.

She was looking up at a great white Snow Lion, one of those fearsome hunters that haunt the northern mountains of Mythica. His long yellow fangs were bared and dripping saliva. His hot breath was on her face. He had one paw planted firmly on her breasts, almost crushing the wind out of her. She glanced briefly to either side and saw that two beasts of comparable bulk were standing over her friends, and the glade was full of . . . snow! It took a few moments, but her terror at last found a voice, and she screamed and screamed. Then her friends awoke and began to scream, too.

Keeping her pinned in place, the lion raised his other paw, its terrible claws extended. Then, with surprising delicacy, he used this appendage to nudge her skirt all the way back. Next he snagged the waistband of her panties and tugged them to her knees. Rhodopis could see that her friends were being stripped in the same way. Soon three pretty muffs—one fiery red, one gleaming black, one daffodil yellow—were exposed. Then the beasts lowered their great shaggy heads. Their saliva was dripping now on the three bared pussies, and it burned! The fairies screamed again. They drew their legs up and back, as caught fays often do, and began to kick, frantically and hopelessly. Rough tongues were extended, and each forced its way into a tender twat. The fairies screamed once more.

Part IV

The lions rested now in the snowy glade, each with his paws on the bosom of a captured girl. They had long since finished their tongue-work and were now waiting for their venom to have its last effects. The girls' wings fluttered uselessly. Their legs were on the ground, rather than up in the air as before. In their first, most hurtful spasms, they had kicked their panties completely off. These now lay in little heaps near their feet. They still kicked of course, but with nothing like the initial frenzy. They still trembled and sobbed, but less violently now. From their cunts a pink, frothy nectar was oozing; the lions had avidly lapped this up at first, but now they seemed to have gotten their fill.

"W-what's that . . . who's that over there?" said Melantho.

With some effort, Rhodopis turned her head in the direction her friend seemed to be looking. Near the northern edge of the glade stood a man, burly and black-haired, in a travel-worn gray cloak and brown boots. He was watching the three bagged beauties with an expression of detached amusement on his face.

"A h-hunter," Rhodopis said. "I'll bet he's the one . . . who left these . . . sh-shape-shifters just outside our refuge. As little kitties . . . they could wander right in. Th-then, we gave them a reason to . . . to grow."

"And now . . ." said Xanthe with a bitter sob, "now the man can wander right in after them! Our magic . . . all undone. Our plans . . . our little pleasures . . . our b-beauty. All undone!" Her voice faltered then, and she just cried and cried.

"Shape shifters," said Melantho. "From the far North! I've . . . I've heard of them. Of course a man . . . a man must have brought them here. I . . . I feel so strange! . . . I think I'm . . . oh God, God, God . . .!" For her, the final pain, the final pleasure, had begun.

When it was over, Xanthe, who had recovered somewhat, spoke: "She's . . . she's gone."

"Sh-she always came a little too fast," said Rhodopis.

D-did you know . . . this would happen?"

"Of . . . of course not!"

"But you . . . you helped bring it on. My panties are down forever . . . because of you . . . ."

"I . . . suppose so, but isn't it better like this than it . . . might have been? That m-mangy man isn't pawing at us, eh? And here I am . . . p-panties down. . . . right next to you. Do you . . . forgive me?"

"I . . . I love you . . . . It's not the same thing."

"It's enough . . . I . . . unnnnhhh, dear Lord!" And Rhodopis got very kicky one last time.

Xanthe spoke once more before her final tremors: "He . . . snapped at the mosquito, he . . . snapped at the flea, he . . . he snapped at the minnow, and he . . . snapped . . . at me. He caught the . . . mosquito, he caught the flea, he . . . caught . . . the minnow . . . and then he caught me! And then . . . he . . . caught me . . . ."

THE END