Coyotes & Curves

APLPHA SHIFTERS

“COYOTES & CURVES”

By

PAMELA MASTERSON

KINDLE EDITION

All characters appearing in this eBook are
fictitious
. Any resemblance to real persons is purely coincidental.

This eBook contains
sexually explicit material
and is intended for a
mature audience
.

All characters are
18 years or older
. All sex within this story is
consensual
.

Copyright © 2014 by PAMELA MASTERSON

ALPHA SHIFTERS

~

NATIVE AMERICAN LEGEND of SOGWILI WA’TOLI

Sogwili Wa’toli is fertility of the land. When Mother Earth opens her womb for the seasons of change, Sogwili Wa’toli will spread his essence upon her, bringing the land and its inhabitants into bloom.

His celestial harem of breeding mares and frolicking creatures travel the canyons of an ethereal world; shape-shifting between the celestial herd and the beautiful beings of the world in which they play.

Young maidens beware of the handsome young brave found alone pleasuring himself under the shade of a lazy willow tree; tis Sogwili Wa’toli lying, in wait.

“American Indian Legends and Lore”
Jacob Morehouse 1856

A Killing Moon

A full moon shines brightly onto the secluded camp within the thick stand of tall pines; and two dirt covered miners sit across a fallen log – hungry and tired from a hard day’s work. Both men are rapidly waving the air – in attempts to clear a thick smoke that rises intensely from a small cooking fire. A cast iron pot boils over licking flames; hissing and cracking as small beads of water land into the dancing inferno below.

“The woods too green,” Gabby Walker, the older of the two men, grumbles; while spitting into the flames; which screams its retort by quickly drying the sizzling glob. Brown saliva trails over a protruding lower lip, being slowly wiped away by a raggedly clothed arm. “You need to find ones dat ain’t so green; and day won’t smoke so much,” Gabby instructs with a slur; through a row of stained teeth.

The boy was always doing something wrong, and it gets on the old man’s last nerve; making him want to get after the youngster for every little thing he did wrong– The boy can’t even find decent firewood!.. He ponders why he’s giving him an equal cut of the profits…

Sure, he did most of the work – with old Gabby, having thrown his back out three summers ago – when an old pack mule lost her nerve on a narrow trail of switch backs he was traversing up. She started bucking; and it was everything he could do to keep from going over the side. In the end, he had lost all of his possessions, a favorite mule, and left with a limp; that has him looking like he’s stepping over a kicking ball with every gate.

Gabby resolves why the boy is receiving a full share, and his mind wonders elsewhere.

–
Have you ever seen so much gold in your whole life?
He had asked when they hit the massive vein –That was a week ago, today. And tonight they sit around the fire waiting for the return of the third man of their trio, who was sent into town for supplies – alone, as to not stir up any commotion about the find – Gabby not trusting to send the young boy;
who would be sure to talk of the strike
. And in today’s world, with thieves ready to kill you dead and jump on your claim;
you can’t trust anyone
. He didn’t trust the third man, any more than he did the kid; but at least he could find his way to town and back, while keeping his mouth shut.

“Shouldn’t he have been back by now?” the boy asks, staring into the darkness; like the third man might walk out at any time, joining them for another meal of tasteless beans.

“Yup.” Gabby answers with no change of expression to his face. He’s dreaming of the days to come, when he won’t have to sleep under the stars; listening to another man snoring and shitting his pants all night.

“Well ain’t you worried, then!” the boy continues, agitated at the old man’s avoidance at engaging in conversations; and his continued one and two word answers.

“Nope.”

“Aw, to hell with you – I’m going to bed,” the boy adds, flustered; and tossing a small stick into the fire, he stands to go.

A SHOT Rings out of the darkness with a yellow BLAST! The young boy’s body flies backwards; landing on the ground dead with a smoking hole in his chest… it quickly turns a crimson red, as the young boy moans softly; closing his eyes in death.

“Jesus Christ, lord oh…” –the second blast hits old Gabby in the face, blowing his hat off; taking half of his skull with it, as he flies backwards, landing next to his deceased friend.

Three mangy looking cowboys walk out of the darkness and into the glow of the fire; where they examine the two bloody corpses. Both men are kicked repeatedly and rolled over – checking for signs of life – Realizing there is none, they drop to their knees, ripping off the miner’s ragged clothes and begin feeding ravenously – tearing out their throats and savoring the guts, as the hungry trio of Coyote shifters, dine happily.

“I love a killing moon,” Jasper, a gangly looking cowpoke, states; tearing a handful of intestines from Gabby’s lifeless body and smearing it over his lips – savoring the taste and aroma, after the painfully long stretch of human food, the gang had been forced to eat, lately.
Major Kearney
promised it would be over soon, and they would all be able to feed freely.

‘Get rid of the Indians and the miners, and the herd is yours,’ he said.

‘And you?’

‘Me — I get the girl — and the council gets the gold,’ he responded with a guttural roar— and Jasper saw the old Badger’s incredible fangs in a display of absolute control that dared any to challenge him. No one did… No one ever
did.

~

Little Deer’s body is plump and curvy; and her golden nakedness glows radiantly in the dancing orange colors cast from the dying fire’s smoldering embers. Ample breasts, young and firm, slope down; turning up at dark areolas, surrounding pert nipples; made hard by her wanting desires.

Her grandmother tends to her body, anointing and covering it with aromatic tonics and silken oils; preparing the girl for the traditional –
Virgin’s walk to the river
– where she will offer herself to Mother Earth; who will send Sogwili Wa’toli to fertilize the young girl’s womb. And in the morning she will return a fertile woman, prepared for marriage and conception.

“Lie down and sleep, pretty one. Soon you become a woman.” A wide smile covers the face of Corn Willow Woman, Little Deer’s grandmother. She holds the large rabbit skin blanket open, and Little Deer crawls between the mounds of the layered furs; where she’s covered by the older woman. “You will make Ten Rivers a proud husband,” the older woman adds, acknowledging the young girl’s intense beauty. She can remember herself being tucked in the same way – the night before her own journey to the river of fertility.

Little Deer watches as the elder woman continues fussing over the ornate totems hung about the room – all in traditional preparation for her ceremonial last night among the tribe as a girl. Corn Willow Woman finishes by stoking the coals of the fire, and with a short prayer she exits the teepee, leaving the girl alone; who is extremely sexually sensitive, thinking of her handsome, brave; and the first night they will spend alone.

She pulls the soft rabbit furs around her neck, and her naked body squirms, thinking of the handsome man and her Grandmother’s words,
‘You will make Ten Rivers a proud husband, on the new moon.’
She’s moist knowing how proud she’s already made the strong warrior with her willingness to play. He’s showed her many pleasures of her own body, and in return, she allowed the young man to stroke his penis between the thick fleshy cheeks of her exposed rectum; until
happily releasing himself upon her
. Oh if he was only here now.

Little Deer’s legs spread, and a slim finger finds her wetness; rubbing gently, while thinking of Ten River’s
Hardness
. He’s always gentle with her – at first – But he likes to finish rough; while thrusting violently behind her; as she struggles to keep him from penetrating inside.

Her inner thighs are hot; and they ache with a desire to be filled.
I’ll fight no more
, she thinks; fanning her swollen mound vigorously. Little Deer’s strong pelvis thrust wildly, convulsing with orgasm as she continues upon her sensitive spot.

Soon the fire fades; and the young sex craving virgin princess falls into a deep sleep—her hands buried deep between her thick legs—happily dreaming of the morrow’s walk.

The morning is bright, and a light mist floats through the community as Little Deer exits the ceremonial Virgin’s Teepee, for the last time, making her way to the river without delay. The camp is quiet, the only sounds being the random barking of several dogs running about, wildly chasing the birds, who scavenge the grounds looking for an easy meal. It has been a time of plenty since moving down from the tribe’s winter grounds, and it’s nice to be back upon the plains.

Little Deer passes through several teepees, before reaching the ends of the grounds, where a small thicket of trees stands with a worn path leading to the river’s edge.

“Where do you think you’re going?” a familiar voice squeaks from behind a large dogwood tree, breaking Little Deer’s frolicking mood.

“Go away, Two-fucking dogs!” she screams at a native boy – a little
Wa’lalow
(pest) – Who has followed, undetected through the camp, and now intent on harassing the older girl. “You need to go away. I’m on my walk to the river.” She continues. Swiftly the girl grabs a small stone, hurling it accurately; effectively hitting the boy, doubling him over long enough for her to make an escape on an undetected route.

“I hope Sogwili gets you!” the boy angrily shouts; shaking his fist as she disappears into the brush.

~

He watches as she moves – her delicateness making his mouth water as she tiptoes gingerly skipping along without a care in the world.

The protruding snout is held high in the air with nostrils following her scent; and a curled lip exposes a row of needle sharp fangs dripping with saliva – his Coyote is howling inside. He fights the desire to jump from the saddle and rip out her throat. However, he’s long in tooth, with age and experience having taught him restraint. His hand curls tightly around the horn of the saddle while the other pulls on the rains, and with a small heeling, he turns the mount away; and begins slowly creeping undetected towards the Indian camp from where she came… There will be time for the young woman, later
– What a waste,
he thinks, growling as he reluctantly travels away.

He’s Red Granger, the Sheriff of Rock Ridge, and he’s traveled up river from the small town to keep an eye on the local tribes, who’ve recently moved down from the mountains to their summer hunting grounds; where they wait for the Buffalo. He’s feeling weak – even a lousy gopher would be an exquisite meal after the human swill he’s had to eat as of late –
Cooked meat –
the thought making his stomach heave. He doesn’t know how they do it; cooking a perfectly good piece of meat until it’s just a dried up hunk. Too many nights caught up with non-shifting guest have left him sick and cranky on the trail.

He had been visited by Major Kearny, the commanding officer at Fort Ronson, who wanted him to locate the girl and her tribe. Kearney informed him of the Government’s plan to remove
all
of the local natives through a government approved plan of extermination.

~

The morning’s dew feels good with blades of grass tickling the undersides of her feet as they glide across the tops – leaving a petite foot printed trail behind her as she goes. The aspen trees turn to small saplings, followed closely by hanging willows; signaling the river’s edge. There’s always a good feeling that comes with the beautiful sounds of the precious liquid as it forms in little pools and rushes over rocks, making its way to the places unseen –
the world of the water people
.

Little Deer loves the stories, her grandmother tells – they’re always filled with mystery and intrigue, designed to make the listener ponder the tale, helping to find the hidden messages and spiritual guidance locked within its realms.

There’s a loud snapping of a twig! Little Deer turns swiftly – A rabbit lifts its head to investigate, while nibbling on a small tuft of grass. Surmising the human may be coming a little too close, it moves quickly, dropping the grass and darting underneath a bush.

–
No Sogwili
, the girl thinks solemnly, followed with a sigh, as she continues traveling on.

Reaching the river’s edge she disrobes and waits… and waits… and waits; eventually loosing hope, and lying down in the grass where she slowly falls asleep, dreaming of Sogwili Wa’toli, and becoming a grown woman…