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Private Lessons

I checked my iPhone again. According to the GPS, this was the right address, 317 Branch Road. I found an empty unreserved parking space, pulled my backpack out of the trunk, and stepped across the lot toward the unassuming, two story apartment complex.

I hopped up to the second floor and walked across the balcony toward apartment 28. I brushed past a shorter, nimble young female border collie who offered a polite greeting as I stepped by her. I nodded, and made my way to the end of the balcony. I caught the eye of the collie as she hesitated at the stairwell -- I think she caught my glance. She almost looked nervous, as if she saw where I'd stopped and wanted to say something, but then she turned and disappeared.

I ruffled my jacket collar up against the cold October breeze and adjusted my backpack, shifting it against my lean shoulders. I glanced at my phone, swapping to the e-mail to check this was the right door.

The faint sound of grunge music filtered out from beyond the door. I lifted my paw and knocked, twice, sharply on the concrete door. There didn't seem to be any answer for several long seconds.

I licked my lips and glanced about, pulling my jacket tighter. It was already getting cold, and the nights were getting longer. I was a little late making it, and I'd hoped to still make the twenty minute drive back home before it got dark. Hopefully this wouldn't take too long...

I reached up and knocked again, louder this time. The music from within turned down, and I hear the faint steps of someone fiddling with the lock.

The door swung open, and I found myself staring into the chest of a tall, lean, lanky coyote boy. The canine was wearing a black T-shirt from some rave on it, and a pair of long black pants down past his ankles, barely covering up his dark-brown bare toes. The ragged, scruffy coyote brushed a lock of purple-dyed hair out of his eyes and glanced down at me, a slightly-fangy smile on his handsome face.

"Um, are you... Brandon?"

The coyote's smile widened, a bit more predatory than I'd liked. "Oh hey, you must be Rick. Come on in, man."

I shook the coyote's paw, glancing down when I did. His grip was strong, enveloping, my hand feeling so much smaller in his. I tried not to stare at the toned muscles lightly flexing under the brown fur and black wristband of the coyote's arm. I'd always found the species handsome, despite their reputation as hunters and scavengers, especially compared to my own vulpine race.

The coyote ducked back inside and gestured me into the dark apartment. The unmistakable smell of half-burned incense and something I couldn't place hit my nose as I stepped in, over some fallen magazines that lay on the carpeted floor at the door. I leaned back and shut the door, enveloped by the pale light of the dingy apartment. Various posters adorned the walls, some from bands I'd never heard of, but most for various raves I was vaguely familiar with. I'd never found the scene interesting, myself.

"Um, sorry I'm a little late," I said, walking around a coffee table covered in scrap papers and stepping over a fallen Xbox controller on the floor.

"You are? Oh, no problem."

The coyote wound his way across the room. I found myself staring at his backside as he walked, my gaze trailing down; that scruffy black-tipped tail that swayed invitingly over his black pants and tight rump, the legs that moved gracefully with the poise of a stalking hunter, and the cuffs of his jeans that peeked up over his heels when he walked, briefly exposing those long, slender padded canine soles.

"You want a drink? Maybe a beer?" He said, opening the refrigerator and bending over. That tail swung hypnotically back and forth, back and forth. I could imagine the touch of it, scruffy and smooth-furred, not like my own fox tail, but still inviting between my fingers.

I must've been staring too long, because Brandon leaned back up and glanced over his shoulder at me, ears quirked mischievously.

"Oh, um, no thanks, I have to drive soon and all. Um, maybe some water?"

"Yeah, sure. Just make yourself comfortable, have a seat on the couch there. Sorry about the mess, man."

I settled down on the couch and dropped my backpack down next to me. "It's no problem, really. I, uh, brought my laptop."

"Oh you won't need that," Brandon said. "I prefer to teach the old-fashioned way with pencil and paper. You'll learn more if you understand the mechanics of it all, more than getting some machine to be a crutch."

"I guess that makes sense."

"Well it's my choice anyway, right? You're not going to find a better math tutor, especially for what I charge, so don't complain. You'll thank me in the long run anyway."

I smiled and nodded to myself, making myself comfortable. He had a point after all, and it's a lesson I'd heard from teachers in school previously. In college, though, everyone seemed to be more concerned with just getting it done.

I reached into my backpack and took out my textbook and notepad. Nudging a few scraps of paper out of the way, I made room for them on the table. Many of the paper scraps were drawings of various kind, mostly cartoonish. There was a recurring theme of coyotes and foxes in various positions, many innocent, posing in landscapes of bright colors. However, a few were outright pornographic, poses of creatures nude or engaging in lewd acts. Some foxes were being bent over by larger male coyotes, being driven into under the tail. I felt a slight stirring in my pants at the sight of them. The coyotes seemed to be enjoying the action at least.

"Do you like them?"

I startled as Brandon reappeared next to me, holding out a glass of water. I nervously took the glass and forced a smile, settling back into the couch.

"Oh, yeah, they're quite, um, nice. You're rather talented."

"Thanks!" He said, brushing the drawings back with a sweeping paw. I caught a fleeting glimpse of a particular one beneath his longer fingers. I could've sworn it was a fox being swallowed down, whole and alive, by a larger, very aroused, and quite familiar purple-haired coyote.

I thought I caught a grin on Brandon's muzzle from the corner of his eye, but when I looked up, it was gone.

"So, let's not waste any time here, eh?" He said, easing his larger frame onto the couch next to me. "Where are you at here?" he asked, reaching over to smoothly grab my textbook from the table.

I leaned back in my seat. "Chapter 12, page 216. My assignment is sections 3 and 4 and the quizzes at the end of each."

"Cool, cool," he said, flipping through the book with a flick of his wrist. "All right, graphing quadratic functions." I picked up my notepad and pencil and prepared to take notes.

"So, the graph of a quadratic function is called a parabola. The vertex of a parabola is the highest or lowest point on its graph. So I'm going to show you how to find the vertex as well as the symmetry of a function..."

I found myself getting lost in the coyote's words. The smooth, rich tones of his voice were entrancing and inviting, hypnotizing to me, warm like a plush blanket. I longed to just wrap myself in them, let myself be smothered...

"Heh. I can see why you're a failure."

I startled out of my reverie, Brandon's statement sharp and direct and vaguely insulting. I shivered under my clothes. Had it suddenly grown cold? My fur had hackled up.

"Wh... what?" was all I could muster as a response.

"You're not even taking notes. You've got problems concentrating I see. Hey, I've got something I have that could help you."

Before I could say anything, the coyote was back on his feet. I felt so small looking up to him from the couch, his form towering over me, at least two heads taller than me when I was standing. But so much more now that I was seated.

He turned and stepped away in the back room, giving me another all-too-fleeting view of his magnificent backside and flowing predatory gait. Stalking, vaguely dangerous, like the coyote was comfortable no matter whether he was stalking large ungulates on the plains, digging up rodents from the desert sand, or prowling unseen through the darkened shadows of urban alleys for discarded leftovers from the trash of those less desperate.

I could've sworn I caught a faint glimpse of Brandon's muzzle over his shoulder, a twitch of his ears toward me, as if... no, he couldn't possibly hear my thoughts, could he?

The coyote returned a moment later, holding a lighter and a pipe confidently in his strong paws. He'd taken his pants off and was now wearing a simple pair of red boxer shorts. His shins were exposed now, the sleek musculature flexing with every step. More importantly, those narrow, powerful coyote feet were freely open, giving me a good look at them. Soft cinnamon brown fur, trailing to a darker near-black at those toes that spread softly with every poised step, ending in blunt black claws at the tips.

He collapsed into the couch next to me with a heavy whump. "Here, this always helps me relax when I'm worried."

He held the pipe up to his muzzle, pursed his thin black lips around the end, and lit the other end of it. He took a long drag, his eyes lidding closed as he drew in a long breath, tall triangular ears slowly sagging and wilting. A recognizable, distinct aroma wafted up and filled the room, adding to what was already present. A thin, sly grin cut across his lips as he pulled the pipe away, a look of satisfaction on his face as he let a fleeting wisp of smoke curl out of his nose and away.

"Mmmm. That's better. Here, have some."

Brandon offered the pipe and lighter to me in visibly-calmed paws. I stared at it, like he'd just demanded opening round of a game of Russian roulette with me.

"Is that what I think it is?"

The coyote laughed, showing quite a bit of fang in the process, and then flashed a pointy-toothed grin. "Don't be silly. It's just incense."

Somehow I couldn't shake the feeling he was lying.

I took the items him from and held them, awkwardly. Even after seeing the coyote light up in front of me, I still couldn't quite work up the nerve to try some. I fumbled with it and held the lighter up, my thumb settling uneasily on the trigger, and just stared at it.

"You've never smoked from a pipe before, have you?"

"No! I just... it's been a while."

I held the pipe up and tried to light it first, like a cigarette. It didn't seem to catch a burn.

"Don't lie to me. You're such an amateur. Here, let me help."

Before I could respond, Brandon wrapped my hands in his enveloping paws, holding firmly. He squeezed my fingers, just a bit, making them disappear entirely in their warm embrace. He pressed the pipe to my lips, held it there as he lifted the lighter up to the other end and struck it.

"Now just breathe in slowly..."

My whole body quivered in fear and anticipation. He was right, I'd never smoked from a pipe before, of anything, let alone 'incense'. I couldn't shake the feeling it was something else, even as I inhaled and the distinct scent filled my lungs. My quaking shoulders soon relaxed, my paws loosening slightly in Brandon's grip as the smoke filled my lungs and head. I would've dropped it if he wasn't holding my hands through it.

Suddenly, a wisp of smoke went down the wrong way. My eyes widened and my muzzle screwed up as I started to choke. Brandon swiftly pulled the pipe away and let me cough, hacking up hard and wheezing, lungs burning as the smoke burst up from chest.

The coyote merely smirked, smugly, setting the pipe down and lifting the glass of water to my lips. I took it in my trembling grasp and swallowed a gulp of the refreshing water.

"Heh-heh. Fucking amateur."

I just stared back at him, too shocked to respond to the insult. Instead I cast my gaze away from him, looking down in shame, ears tucked back. The rush of adrenaline from choking had masked the initial flavor of the smoke, but as my shaking subsided, I began to feel at least a little relaxed.

Brandon lifted the pipe back up and casually took another long hit, practiced paws making it all seem easy and natural. He lifted the pipe from his lips and grinned, teasingly blowing a puff of the smoke into my eyes. He smirked as I coughed again.

"Well some people live sheltered lives," he said, standing up. "I'm going to put this away. I don't like to leave this stuff lying out, you know."

The coyote disappeared to a back room, leaving me there, clutching my paws nervously to my chest. Oh god, what had I just done? A sense of fear briefly washed over me as I patted at my jacket, trying to brush an invisible ghost off the fabric. Could someone smell it on me? Could I--

"We should get back to work now. That's what you came for here, huh?"

I turned back as the coyote sat down, and found myself face to face with his bare, fluffy chest. I recoiled slightly, the coyote's chest ruff looming what seemed to be only inches from my nose, ears tucked back as I took in the sight of the shirtless coyote. Rich, ruffled brown fur hung before me, faintly muscular, so enticing. I longed to reach out and touch it, feel the soft predatory fur ruffling between my slender fingers...

"Pay attention, man. I don't have all day."

A blush forced its way across my muzzle. It took all my strength to lean back away from him, back against the arm-rest far enough that I could get him back into my field of vision.

"Oh... sorry."

Brandon forced a smug grin down at me, a brief predatory gaze... as if he was pleased by my ready obedience despite myself. But that was silly.

Wasn't it?

He looked back down at the textbook. "Now, write down the following equation. The function of x equals a times the polynomial x minus h raised to the power of two plus k..."

Time passed by quickly as he continued. Every few minutes, Brandon would stop to scold me for paying more attention to him than the lesson, and he seemed to be growing more and more annoyed each time.

Finally, he stopped and closed the book. An agitated scowl crossed his muzzle, his lips pulled slightly back into the faintest trace of the earliest stage of a growl. "What's wrong with you, you moron? Is this all too much for your feeble little vulpine brain to comprehend?"

My mouth fell slightly open in shock.

"W-What?"

Just as suddenly, the coyote's face returned to its friendly demeanor, those once-angry lips curled back into a compassionate grin. "I said, are you having trouble with this? I can go slower if I'm moving too fast."

I just stared back at him, agape. I locked my eyes to his, feeling myself sinking into the deep, amber pools. I felt like I was drowning,

"It can be a bit much to understand, just let me know." A mischievous, yet dangerous glint flashed through them, teasing at the predator that lurked just below the surface. His voice turned a bit darker.

"After all, you came for my help. The least I can do is offer it..."

It must've just been my imagination.

"To be honest, I'm a little... um, hungry. You know?"

Brandon smiled warmly and nodded. "Oh, sure, I should've offered. I usually feel the same right about now." He braced his hands on the cushions and prepared to shove himself up again. "I'm sure I've got something around here that would interest you."

I lightly grabbed his arm and tugged him back down, with a bit more force than I'd intended. The briefest hint of a scowl flashed itself across Brandon's muzzle.

"Oh, no thanks, I've got some..." I set my notebook and pencil down on the table. Reaching down into my backpack, I fished about and wrapped my fingers around the lone granola bar deep at the bottom. I always kept one with me, just in case I found myself getting hungry.

Brandon's gaze leveled on the granola bar in my hands. Before I could say anything, he snatched it from my paws with pouncing fingers, deftly pulling it away.

"You brought your own food, I see. Did you bring enough for the rest of the class?"

My breath caught, and my ears swiveled backward at the accusation. "I, er, I didn't think... I mean, it's my last one, I just happened to have it with me..."

Brandon snorted at me, and flicked his eyes down at the granola bar. His tongue flashed out, tracing a long, carnivorous lick along his fangs. "How very rude. Very inconsiderate indeed. Selfish, even."

He held the bar in the very tips of his nimble fingers and lifted it to his jaws, suddenly tearing into the wrapper with a flash of teeth and ripping it open. In the same smooth motion, he snatched a few inches from the bar and tossed it backward into his mouth.

I watched him devour it like a wild animal, mouth open, teeth visible. The granola prey was swiftly butchered in sharp, fangy death, the gnashing teeth reducing it to nothing more than paste in seconds. Still holding his maw open, as if he were showing off, the long coyote tongue slathered around the granola mush and curled it up, tossing it swiftly back to his throat and swallowing it away. I couldn't help but stare at the bulge that slipped down his neck, esophagus rippling as the scavenger disappeared the morsel.

The audible gulp sent shivers down my spine.

Brandon grinned at the sight of me staring at the display, pleased at seeing me cowering like a frightened omega at the edge of a fresh kill. He slurped his chops again, once, twice, and smiled.

"Well, I'm hungry. I'll just take this then. Assuming you have no objections?"

I could only nod, feebly.

"Mmmm. Good. I outrank you, anyway."

Outrank?

"What?"

Brandon chuckled darkly, a faint hint of mirth in his tone. "I mean, I'm the teacher. You're the student. Get it? Rank?"

Somehow the joke seemed much more like a threat.

I managed to force another soft nod. I watched in stunned silence as Brandon ripped the granola bar to shreds, devouring his prey in a matter of moments. He languidly ran his tongue up and down his fingers once he'd finished, tracing the padded digits longingly and lovingly and sweeping the crumbs away into his dangerous jaws.

"Mmm. Peanut-butter chocolate chip."

I folded my hands in my lap, wringing them as I tried to relax overcome my terror of the sight of those fearsome jaws. And yet, I felt drawn to them in a way I couldn't quite explain. I knew Brandon must've been able to tell. It made the show even more exciting.

"Thanks for that."

The coyote casually tossed the wrapper away, letting it land on the table. He slurped his chops once more, letting his teeth clack together as he worked his tongue about inside his mouth in a very canine fashion. He looked so pleased with himself.

"Well, I think I'm ready to continue."

I nodded, and reached down to grab my notebook from the table. My hands trembled when I picked it up. I was still shaking from having seen the coyote's vicious display.

I took a deep, slow breath, trying not to let him see how I quivered, but I knew he did. There was no way he couldn't.

"Okay, yes, sure. Where were we?"

Brandon slowly slid up against me, draping one arm across my shoulder and pressing his chest up close to my face. I gasped and looked up to the looming coyote, finding myself staring into his mirthful eyes. A slow grin spread across his muzzle, as he softly squeezed me to him like a younger brother.

"Just relax, Rick. I know it seems hard, but that's no reason to get worked up, is it?"

I gulped and nodded feebly.

"I'm sorry. I've just never been good at this..."

"Don't be sorry. Just relax and take notes, write down what I say. Let me help you."

Brandon continued the lesson, speaking calmly and smoothly with that melodic, warming voice. It helped to calm me, even as the predator loomed.

The next hour went by quickly. Brandon was an excellent tutor, even if I couldn't help but feel like I was a less than adequate student. Even still, I had less difficulty concentrating and writing notes while he leaned over me.

"That's much better. You're a very a good student once you stop shaking."

The coyote gently wrapped his hand about my writing hand, teasing it in those long fingers. He softly caressed my digits, squeezing gently until I dropped my pencil. The engulfing paw was so warm and firm, the leathery pawpads sliding smoothly along my furry knuckles. He gently twined his fingers about mine.

"I... thank you," I stammered.

He let go of my hand and rested it on my leg. I watched as he slid his fingers gently along it; such a delicate touch. His hand settled on my thigh gently, and gave it a firm squeeze. I jerked slightly at the suddenness of it all, yet I couldn't help shiver at the coyote's touch.

"Feels good, huh?"

Suddenly, everything fell into place. I couldn't believe how oblivious I'd been to it all, the holding, the rubbing, the showing off, the playful insults and the steady disrobing that exposed the coyote's sleek, sexy body.

He'd been coming on to me.

"What are you doing--"

My words were cut off by the coyote's lips on mine. He leaned over to fully clutch me to his chest, pulling me in tight as he pressed his mouth to mine in a slow kiss. His lips parted and he pushed his tongue into my mouth, firm yet forceful, and tongued me deeply. I could still taste the lingering bits of granola on his palette.

My eyes widened in shock. Immediately, I tried to pull away. I braced my hands on Brandon's chest and pushed as hard as I could.

I managed to get his mouth off mine.

Brandon stared at me, stunned, his ears skewed backward obliquely.

I sputtered and wiped my lips with the back of a paw, trying to get the taste of coyote off them. "What the hell are you doing!" I said.

"Isn't it obvious?"

I trembled, half in shock, and half in anger. "Ugh, that's... that's disgusting! I don't... I'm not gay!"

Brandon snorted and sneered at me. "Bullshit. I've seen the way you've been eying me this entire time. Staring, longing..." He grasped my head in his hand, pulling my face close and staring down into it. His eyes seemed colder, yet still burning with insult. "Eying me up. I've seen the look in foxes before. You want me, you want to cower and grovel before me, like a pet. Like an animal."

"I--"

"Don't argue with me, fox. Do you think I'm stupid? How long do you think you can deny it, deny your feelings for me? You want this even more than I do."

"I--"

"Say it!" He snapped his teeth at me. "Submit to your urges, like you want to submit to me."

"But--"

A slow rumble drifted up from the coyote's throat. Thin black lips curled up, pulling back to expose his fearsome teeth.

"The next words out of your mouth had better be 'yes sir'."

I stared into his amber eyes, feeling as if I was drowning. I nodded, feebly, but the growing snarl on Brandon's face told me I needed to do more.

"Yes, sir." I finally managed to choke out.

Brandon smiled, disarmingly. "Very good, then," he chuckled, and lightly tugged at the waistband of his boxers. "Well, we're almost done with the lesson. Just the chapter recap here..."

My body ached and trembled as the coyote kept me in his eye-sight. I reached out for my notebook, but the coyote deftly snatched it away from my grasp.

"Mmm, no, you're much too slow taking these notes, and I've got plans for the evening," he said. "I'll write your notes for you."

"You will?"

"All I need is a table."

Brandon's eyes caught mine, and I suddenly felt very vulnerable. The coyote slid next to me and grinned, tugging me partially over his lap and pushing my face suddenly down into his fuzzy crotch.

"You'll do nicely," he said.

I squirmed, for just a moment, but then the coyote's grasp tightened on my neck, holding me in place. Brandon's other paw eased his boxers down, exposing his already-rigid red coyote penis. I stared at it, in a mixture of shock and fear. And, well... shame.

Brandon certainly caught me staring, and I couldn't help but catch the faintest glimpse of a grin at the corners of the coyote's muzzle. He eased my head over toward his warm, musky crotch, the smell of coyote male heavy in the air and enough to make me feel a little dizzy.

"Go on, take a sniff."

I shivered and took a whiff of the coyote's musk. A shudder ran down my spine immediately, as if by lightning. Something deep inside told me I needed to run, to flee, that I was the prey in the face of the predator, but I simply couldn't move... beyond shaking, that is.

"Smells good?"

I coughed and quivered, and nodded. "I--"

"That's good," he interrupted.

Brandon managed to take my open jaws -- open for speaking, that is -- as an open invitation for what should occur. And thusly, he wrapped his fingers around my head and thrust my mouth around his cock.

Startled, I squirmed, but only for a moment. The coyote's grasp was surprisingly strong. He held my shoulder firmly with one hand, the other on the back of my head, pressing my face down onto his erection.

"...addition of cock to fox mouth..." Brandon mumbled.

I closed my eyes. I'd never done this before, despite what everyone has said about foxes. The taste was at first repulsive, and I wanted to gag. The mere thought of another male's dick...! I tried to pull back, but the coyote's paw was firm and heavy on my head, keeping me in place. Helplessly, I started to lick on that coyote shaft, taste it... so very male, so very coyote.

"That's better, huh?"

Brandon pushed me further down on his cock, until my nose was pushed into his fuzzy pubic furs. My ears folded back as my instincts told me to suck, so I did. I whimpered a little as I settled in, but Brandon's paws were gentle, yet firm.

"Right... erf, there. Yeah? You like that, huh?"

I couldn't move, but if I could, I would've nodded. Oh god, the coyote was so domineering. I felt like I'd been conquered, so I gave in to the coyote's lusts. I'd never done something like this before.

The coyote's cock filled my muzzle entirely, making my cheeks bulge, filling my jaws with his masculine meat. I cowered further into the couch, driven down by the coyote's steadily-increasing forceful humping. It'd started as a gentle exploration of the limits of my muzzle, and then before I realized it, the coyote was asserting himself, firmly, as the apex predator.

"Hrf... just a bit... more..."

I squirmed as best as I could, but it didn't seem to bother Brandon. He seemed rather calm, despite how he was clearly worked up, his throbbing erection filling my mouth. Salty pre washed down my throat as he prepared to unload himself.

I couldn't believe this was happening. My heart pounded as the coyote literally fucked my face. Is this what they'd meant when they talked about fox-toys? Oh god, he's about to...

"I'm going to... awrrrrroooooooooouuuuuuuuuuu!!!!!"

I grimaced, pounded further into the couch by the coyote's sudden climax. Thick ropes of sticky white canine semen spurted down my throat, making me want to cough and gag. The feeling of the slimy male love made my stomach turn, but I couldn't help swallow it all lest I drown and choke on the coyote's cock.

I could hear Brandon's tail thumping the table, knocking off the books and anything else on top of it. I tried to scream into the coyote's crotch, but the sound came out muffled, if at all. What a ruckus the two of us must've made.

As quick as it came on, it was over. I could feel, more than hear, Brandon panting above as he laid atop me. It was hard to breathe where I was, buried under coyote fur and musk, with a massive canine dick lodged in my jaws. The smell and taste of coyote was all I could take in. It almost made my eyes water.

The larger canid had certainly made his alpha status clear.

Finally, Brandon eased himself off of -- and out of -- me. He sat up slowly on the floor next to me, and chuckled.

"Pretty good for a last time."

It took a moment for the words to register in my head. Didn't he mean a first time? And then it became clear.

Brandon casually leaned over, yawning his jaws as wide as he could, an enormous desert canyon spread out before my eyes. Saliva dribbling over his teeth, running down his thin black lips, a dark, deep abyss of coyote gullet staring me in the face.

"You don't--"

But I couldn't finish the sentence. Brandon snapped his jaws around my head, clamped them in place with a vice-like strength. I was too startled to immediately react, much to my detriment. By the time I put it into my mind to start struggling and thrashing, the coyote was down over my shoulders. I clawed at the air, kicked everywhere, tried to buck my spine like a bronco but I was far too small, weak, and, above all else, inferior.

I could hear Brandon's growling around my head and ears. It sounded terrifying from inside, part hungry, part triumphant, but all predatory. The coyote didn't take much time to savor me, or if he did, I couldn't remember. It all happened so fast. I tried to move my arms, but they were pinned to my sides against the coyote's cheeks and jaws.

Suddenly, my world upended. Brandon must've stood up. I felt gravity pull at my face, drawing me downward. I kicked my legs but I could only wheel them awkwardly in the air. My tail fell across Brandon's face -- I could hear him snort as if he were trying to blow it away. My arms felt compacted in the coyote throat and gullet, feeling like they were going to compress and snap with any further force.

Just as I was feeling like my spine was about to break, I reached the tipping point. I fell and curled awkwardly into the coyote's acrid stomach, stale air, nasty juices, stinging my face. I could feel a rush of air along my feet, and then a few canine licks, and then it was all over. The sound of Brandon's final gulp echoed around me, almost crushing me as I settled into his stomach.

I was forced into a tight ball in a very unfriendly coyote belly. I heard movement around me, above me, a faint coyote chuckle. I was going to die in here, in a coyote stomach. How was this even possible?

"Heh heh... dumb little fox..."

"What the hell! Let me out!"

"Naw. This is your payment."

"What?"

"You didn't think I'd tutor you for free, did you?"

I whined and tried to punch at the coyote's stomach, which only caused Brandon to rumble and belch.

"Ooh, feisty."

There wasn't anything else I could do. I curled up on myself and started to cry, trembling as I felt the coyote's digestive juices start to tingle at my fur. After a few moments, I heard Brandon moving around up above.

"Hey, Rick, you don't mind if I borrow your iPhone for a bit do you? I didn't think so. Oh, hey, cool, you've got the new Alice in Chains album on here..."