The Box Canyon Terror

Miriam knew the desert could be a danger, but Santa Anna's men were only human.... What was the real terror in the box canyon?

(M+F, gang rape, MF, nc, shape change) caution

By: Punchinello for Pulp Erotica

Texas, 1836

The furious pounding of hoof beats echoed off the canyon walls. Miriam Onez pushed her little brown filly harder to stay ahead of the Mexican soldiers so persistent—and so close—behind her. She clutched the weathered leather courier bag bound closer to her breast and rode on thru the rushing wind and dust of the Texas desert.

The four Mexican soldiers pushed their horses harder still, cruelly whipping them despite their exhaustion. Their grim, unshaven faces were set like stone. They could see their prey now. They clutched their pistols and took wild shots at the little Texan woman when the desert ground rushing beneath them evened out. General Santa Anna would reward them well if they returned with a courier bag meant for Sam Houston.

Miriam couldn’t bear to look back to see if they were gaining now. She had foolishly lingered at the river to rest, thinking the soldiers had lost her trail in the night, only to find them topping the ridge and splashing thru the waters behind her before she had even got out of sight of it. The land all around was rough, but almost featureless now; there was nowhere to hide, nowhere to lose them unless she could make the hills up ahead.

There had been five before, when they first picked up her trail and began to pursue. One must have turned back since then; perhaps his horse had gone lame or perhaps he returned to report the chase. Even so, four were enough to catch her. The hills loomed large in the distance, but they were still out of reach if Mexicans’ horses didn’t give out. Gunfire whistled past her again and made her cling to her little horse’s neck. The sand and scrub rushed by her racing hooves in a blur.

Then, in a flash and cloud of dust, the little filly stumbled. The rocky ground had laid a wicked trap that tripped her up and sent her tumbling into the dirt and sagebrush. Miriam went crashing to the ground and tumbled like a rag doll into the gravel.

But as the Mexicans approached, the wily girl rolled to a sitting position and jerked her little single-action revolver from her boot. She cocked it and fired, cocked it and fired again. The soldiers stopped short and put lead slugs in the dirt around her. Miriam knew when she was beaten. She threw up her hands and tossed the pistol into the dirt. The soldiers laughed to see her surrender. They knew she would die as a spy, but better they have a little time with her while she could still squeal....

They pulled her to her feet. She was sore all over, her arms scraped and her legs bruised. Her long skirt was torn and dirty. And her pretty white blouse with the ribbons and lace was split at the seam and had lost enough buttons to make her clutch it closed when the men looked her over.

“You give us the satchel, senorita,” said the leader in good English. “We take care of it for you, eh?” They stripped it off her shoulder.

“Give it back,” she demanded. “There’s nothing in it of value... only letters to my family.”

The men all sniggered. They must all have spoken a little English, she realized. “We know who your family is, senorita. And we don’t want them to get any love letters from you.”

“We will give them love letters of our own!” laughed another man, shaking his pistol in the air. And they all laughed heartily.

They tied her hands and put her on her horse, now a little lame, and escorted her along in the same direction she had been fleeing. “Where are you taking me?” she asked bitterly. They only laughed again, but the answer came soon enough. The ground fell away to a smooth plain, sheltered a little from the relentless wind. There, they stopped, the hills now tantalizingly close. If Miriam had only been able to go a little further....

“Is good that you surrender, senorita,” said the leader, pulling her down from the saddle. “Those hills are the home of a monster—much worse than us.” Miriam only glared at him and his lies.

“Ees true,” said another. “They say eet ees like a coyote, huh? A coyote that walks like a man and has eyes that burn like red-hot coals.” Miriam said nothing. She didn’t know these parts like they did and didn’t believe such tales anyway.

The little one leered at her. “His fangs are like knives, chiquita. And he would eat you up for his dinner!”

“Is lucky for you that we save you,” the leader smiled. And the others laughed heartily again. “When it gets cooler,” he said slowly, “we ride back to the river. We camp for the night, and we ride back to the army. But for now...” The others chuckled with anticipation. “...we rest and we... have a little fun.”

“Ah hah!” cried the little one, and they all broke into laughter and clapping. Their rough features and dirty uniforms matched their crude manners. What army would have such men? Not the Texan army, to be sure. Miriam was half-Mexican, half-White, but all Texan. She yearned for the liberty of a Texan republic and had fought to make it real.

The proud young woman stood among her captors, head high, and brushed the loose hair from her face. The smooth, round tops of her breasts were exposed by her open blouse. Her bare thigh peeked thru her torn skirt. The men leered at her as they went about watering the horses from their canteens, smacked their lips as they walked by her.

The leader was called Bauto, a nickname she guessed, and the others were Francisco, Pablo, whose English was especially bad, and the nasty little one, Javier. They knew her name from her papers and from her reputation. They had been assigned to catch her, she learned, by their superior officer, and they took to their mission with zeal. Now they had succeeded, and now they would have their reward.

As Bauto produced a bottle of whiskey, Javier pulled a concertina from his saddle pack. Pablo pulled a whip from his. “You dance for us, senorita,” Bauto smiled wickedly. “If we like it, we don’t whip you.”

The afternoon sun shined hotly down on Miriam as all eyes turned to her. Javier sat on ground and played a Mexican folk song. The dark-haired woman did nothing. “Dance, bitch dog!” barked Pablo, and he cracked his whip across the young woman’s back. She fell heavily to the ground, pained and stunned.

Francisco raised her up. “Thees skirt ees too heavy!” he declared and tore it at the split, spinning her around, leaving a ragged scrap that barely covered her thighs. Miriam burned with shame and pain. The men whistled to see her smooth, brown legs and to see her trying in vain to cover them. Suddenly, the whip snapped across her back again, lashing her hotly. She fell to the ground again, but this time clutched vainly at her skirt to keep from showing her unmentionables.

“Is her boots!” Bauto exclaimed. “She can’t dance in them! Take them off, Francisco, and show us her pretty feet!”

“We don’ want her running away!” Francisco cried, and he grabbed Miriam’s boots and pulled them off roughly. He tossed them aside with her fancy stockings in the dirt and stepped away to look at her again.

Now Miriam burned hot with shame. Her bare legs and feet were exposed to the men like a dirty peasant girl. Her breasts bulged at her bodice like a whore’s. The lashes across her back were painful, but they did not cut into her skin. She got to her feet and looked to Javier. The little toad of a man took up his tune again and squeezed the concertina gleefully.

Miriam began to dance, but the stony ground hurt her feet. The soldiers laughed to see her distress and clapped their hands to the rhythm of the music. Even dour Pablo laughed and snapped his whip lightly at her legs to keep her moving. They stared at her bobbing breasts, barely concealed and barely contained by her torn blouse. Even Miriam knew that this was next.

“More!” Bauto cried. “Shake your titties for us!” They all laughed, but Miriam complied. Her face flushed red as she shook her shoulders in front of the soldier, he urging her closer, closer. “Let them out to play!” he exclaimed and popped the remaining buttons on her blouse with a single jerk at her bodice. Miriam’s breasts burst out of her top and shook in the desert sun. She gasped and covered them with her bound hands, but Pablo snapped the whip across her back and bare legs as a warning. At last, the dark-haired girl let her hands fall away and reveal her naked breasts to the soldiers.

“Ay, ay, ay! What titties, senorita! Shake them for us!” Javier resumed his playing, and Miriam took up the dance again, shamefully shaking her breasts and hips for the men’s pleasure.

“Strip her naked!” Bauto called. In a moment, Francisco was reaching under her skirt and yanking at Miriam’s pantalets. He tore the cotton dainties as he stripped them off her, exposing her completely for a moment to the delight of the others. Her smooth, round bottom stuck up in the air, black curly pubic hair visible on the underside where the lips of her vulva were plainly visible. Miriam rolled over onto her back and pushed her skirt down, but the men only laughed cruelly again.

Pablo snapped the whip at the girl and made her jump. She crawled away from him desperately, exposing her ripe, round bottom again and making the others shout and squeal.

“Lay her out!” Bauto demanded. Pablo dropped the whip and advanced on her grimly. Francisco chuckled low as he came for her too. He grasped her slim wrist as she twisted and whined. Pablo snapped her bonds with his knife and held her down as she struggled, breasts heaving, head thrashing.

Bauto approached her slowly, rubbing the bulge in his trousers and licking his lips. Miriam struggled vainly, kicking her slender bare legs until Francisco held them down. Bauto pulled out a half-hard prick and kneeled between her brown thighs. “This is why the senoritas should not become spies,” he growled, slapping his hardening cock against her vulva. “Spit on her pussy!” he shouted.

Francisco spat a fat glob of saliva on Miriam’s dark slit. He rubbed it around and into her hole with rough, manly fingers, grinning wickedly at her distress. Bauto slapped his cock against her pussy lips again and pushed the knob against them. The dark-eyed girl groaned and whimpered as she was violated. Javier played a wedding song on the concertina.

Francisco bent down and sucked and nipped at Miriam’s nipples. The firm young breasts jutted out for him as the girl arched her back and writhed in her struggles. Pablo pinned her hands to the ground with his knees so he could whip out his own prick and slap her in the face with it, laughing cruelly.

Between her legs, Bauto pushed inside her, violating her completely, and burying his hardened meat inside her. “Have you had a man inside you before, senorita?” he asked. “Huh? Have you felt a cock inside your hot little pussy?”

Miriam had. She was married for a few months... until her young husband was killed by the Mexican army.

Bauto huffed and grunted, thrusting into her. Pablo pinned her head with his thighs and slapped her with his prick again and again and even slapped her breasts with his coiled up whip. Francisco struggled to keep her legs pinned. Bauto’s rhythm increased suddenly, and in a moment he was desperately thrusting into Miriam’s small young body. The girl gasped and whimpered, only to find her mouth slapped by Pablo’s big, firm dick. She snapped at it, but only suffered more cruelly for it.

At last, Bauto hunched over and buried his cock as deeply as it would go, his balls pumping thick semen into the struggling girl’s pussy, and at last pulled out to smear his jism all over her aching slit. Miriam gasped and bucked, but only found a hot glob of cum spill over her lips and into her open mouth. She coughed and sputtered, trying to spit the jism out, but Pablo jammed his throbbing dick into her face and slapped her with it again and again as he finished spurting. All the soldiers laughed and joked over her bruised and defiled body.

Then, in a hazy moment of pain and shame, Miriam found her hands freed, her legs released, and her head free from the grip of Pablo’s thighs. The men all sat back to rest and immediately fell to arguing over whose turn it was to violate her next.

Miriam rolled onto her stomach and crawled to her knees. The horses were only a few yards away. Did she have the strength to escape? Did the men have the strength to catch her? She had to try. This could be her only hope before being dragged back to Santa Anna and hanged as a spy.

In a flash, the nearly naked woman leaped up and dashed for the nearest horse. The stones cut her bare feet, but she caught its reins and held it as it reared up with a startled whinny. The soldiers stuffed her dicks back into their trousers and followed quickly, but Miriam scared off the other horses as soon as she leaped into the saddle. “Hyah! Heeyah!” she cried and slapped at the horses withers to chase them off.

Francisco was the first to reach her, and the big horse reared up again as he came under it, and Miriam jerked the reins to get twist the horse in his direction. The big animal’s hoof came down on Francisco’s chest and knocked him heavily to the ground, nearly crushing him under it as it stamped the dust.

None of the men had their pistols handy, and only Pablo was armed at all. He lashed out with his whip as Miriam took off, but only caught the horse’s hindquarters, startling it and causing it to lunge forward into full gallop. The men stood dumbly for a moment as they watched their prize captive ride off toward the hills.

Miriam quickly found herself surrounded by steep slopes and rock walls. The Mexican soldiers were never far behind, but they could not find her in the maze of rocky hills and outcroppings.

The river ran thru here once, she could tell, but the bed was dry and gravelly now. The walls echoed every sound, bouncing it from one to another and masking the source. At first relieved to be among the high canyon walls, Miriam grew more and more uneasy as the hours passed and the sunlight began to wane. The stories the men had told her of a monster in these hills and canyons seemed more believable now that she was among them, half-naked and unarmed.

She could here the yips of coyotes in the distance—or were they distant? The echoes confused every noise. The girl looked behind her again, as if this time the saddle pack would be there, offering a pistol or water, but the soldiers had removed them to let the horses rest. When she turned back, she saw a creature that made her blood run cold.

There, standing up on a rock in the dying light of twilight, was a huge coyote with a large, gleaming eyes, red like burning embers. Its pelt was dusty brown with a wide, dark stripe down its back. And its forelegs seemed stretched—elongated—with huge paws.

The horse saw it too, and reared suddenly, throwing Miriam into the dirt and fleeing at full gallop back the way they had come. The girl lay on the ground, frozen in pain and fear. The creature was not a coyote; not really. It was something else... something more.

The creature eyed with particular interest. Then Miriam saw that between its legs hung a large, red prick, jutting proudly under its belly. It was excited by her nakedness. It was in heat for her. Her blood ran hot again and flushed her body red. She covered herself and slunk into the cool shadows behind a rock. The coyote creature moved to see her again, and stared hungrily down on her from its rock.

Then noises came echoing thru the canyon. The creature immediately pricked up its ears and looked away toward the direction Miriam had come. The Mexican soldiers were coming. Miriam was trapped. The coyote creature snarled and showed its huge yellow fangs, still looking away toward the sounds. Then it leaped off its rock and rushed into the shadows toward the noises.

Miriam was astonished. Her heart pounded like thunder. She looked around and saw now that she was more trapped than she had realized. She had wandered into a box canyon—there was no way out but the way she came in.

The shadows crept down over the canyon walls with astonish speed and stealth. Miriam could almost see them move as she crouched, terrified, among the rocks. She heard a voice call out, “Senorita? Little kitty? Come out and play with us again!” It was Javier, she thought, the little concertina player with the wicked tongue.

Suddenly, Miriam heard a cry go up and rough Spanish shouted. A gunshot, then two more, echoed thru the canyon a hundred times. And the scream of a man followed.

Then the canyon erupted in shouts. Bauto called to his men to gather together again, so clearly they had separated to look for her. But only Pablo and Francisco answered. Miriam was chilled to think how close they were now. If they continued looking they would surely find her.

But suddenly Francisco’s voice screamed out for his companions. Miriam heard snarls and gasps, but not more gunshots. Then she heard Bauto and Pablo, terrifyingly close, huffing and stammering in Spanish. “Coyote,” they said.

Then she saw Pablo, just beyond the rock wall, creeping uneasily, pistol drawn, head snapping back and forth at every noise. They all heard the scratching, the tumbled of stones around them. Pablo reached behind him, just out of sight, reaching for Bauto, Miriam guessed. Then he staggered back, and both men screamed. Pablo fired his pistol again and again, emptying it into the unseen attacker that had surely pounced on Bauto.

The terrified man turned to run, but no sooner had the snarling, tearing, gasping sounds behind him died down than a huge shadow leaped out from behind the rocks and tackled him.

Pablo turned on his back and swung his pistol at the hairy creature that had just killed his superior and his companions in arms. The huge coyote creature snapped his arm and thrashed back and forth while the man screamed. It savaged his throat and face tearing bloody gashes and lapping up the blood like a demon.

Miriam was frozen in absolute terror, crouched in the shadows behind the rock, utterly helpless against such a bloodthirsty monster. But when the creature had finished off the last of the Mexican soldiers, it did not turn to stalk her. Instead, it looked up with a bloody maw and brought its paw up to wipe the gore away like a human might. And it reared up on its hind legs and tottered there a moment, huge and dark, fire burning in its eyes like nothing the girl had ever seen.

Then its back straightened. It ran its paws thru its fur around its head and seemed to wipe away not only the blood and skin of its victims, but the very animal features of its face. Indeed, its paws themselves, huge and elongated, flexed like fingers of a hand. Its legs straightened, cracked and popped, and straightened again. Miriam stood motionless and awestruck.

The creature moved toward her slowly, its fur seeming to melt away in the moonlight, leaving the smooth, ruddy skin of a man. Only the dark fur on its head remained, flowing into a wild tangle of hair. As it came closer, Miriam saw that the transformation was complete. This was a man, an Indian, naked and heavily muscled, wiping the blood off his mouth and staring at her nakedness with burning eyes.

He said nothing as he approached her, only sniffed her and took in her scent like an animal would. His penis hung heavy between his legs. His hands, bloody and rough, touched her as he circled around behind her. Miriam stiffened. He came very close behind her, sniffed her neck, her hair. He put his hand around her and felt her breasts. Miriam closed her eyes. She could smell him too, a powerful musky scent like an animal. It flooded her body with new sensations; her blood quickened and her body flushed.

Wordlessly, the animal man fondled her, loosed her skirt and let it fall, caressed her naked thighs. Miriam struggled to breathe evenly, calmly, as her heart pounded in her chest and her body began to react as an animal. Her vulva, so recently violated by the soldiers, but suddenly slick and warm. Her breasts were firm, her nipples hard and pointed. She sucked her bottom lip as she felt the man creature’s prick press against her vulva from behind.

Miriam was bent forward over the rock and her thighs spread. With exquisite slowness, the man animal pressed his hardened prick into her moist canal, pressing her apart and making her moan. All human thought fled Miriam’s mind as the creature pushed gradually into her, then pulled back and pushed again, harder, deeper. She felt as tho she would be split apart by the big cock filling her up.

The Indian slid into her and pulled back again and again, slowly gaining speed and force. His strong body held her powerfully from behind, groping her breasts, stroking her throat. She pushed back against him to match his rhythm, all thought of danger and fear melting away to be replaced by animal lust. She grunted and moaned involuntarily, half unconscious and overcome with the pleasure.

Her body shook and groaned, her breasts heaving with each gasping breath, and suddenly arched stiffly and trembled in the Indian’s strong arms as the powerful spasms of orgasm took her body. The animal man thrust deep into her now, taking her roughly, fucking her from behind like an animal, making her cum again and again, shooting his jism inside her and flooding her cunt with their combined juices. Miriam sobbed and gasped, utterly destroyed, and slumped over the rock in exhaustion and relief. It had been a long time since she had taken a lover who had brought her to crisis, and the pleasure brought back waves of memories of her beloved husband.

She came to her senses only just in time to see the creature, transformed again into his half-coyote form, rushing away, taking to all fours, and disappearing in the rocks and shadows.

Naked and exhausted, in a dreamlike haze, Miriam found a horse and rode back to find her saddle pack, boots, and courier satchel. She covered herself as best she could with the tattered skirt and dug out a fresh blouse and stockings. Then she road away, scratched and bruised, into the strange, mysterious moonlit night.

All models are 18 years or older, regardless of the text.