This is a very, very wrong little parody and it is also a very very wrong lemon.

Suffice to say: My stance on the whole 'Zoycite thing' is basically "For fuck's sake don't confuse the two." I.E., Zoisite and Zoycite are different characters, and should be regarded as such, please. So of course... well... I guess I'm out to save the delicate nuances of Zoycite's fine character, or something. You know.

THAT said, Zoycite is a nasty bitch and hasn't got any breasts, no matter what they say.

No particular offense is meant to the author of the work which this parodies.

"His Innocent Temptress"

It was the best of spots, it was the worst of spots, it was the spot in which Princess Zoycite and Sir Honorable Knight Malachite (it rhymes!) sat, under a highly symbolic Mighty Oak Tree, utterly unobserved except for the myriad of wide-eyed woodland creatures, the man with the camera, and me. Oh, and what a spot it was!!

Malachite in his usual fashion was not very conversational. Instead he was staring with his little grayish eyes wide at the girlie next to him, watching her weave wreaths of hemlock and poison ivies and wondering just what IS down a woman's panties after ALL. Zoycite's kisses were so sweet, and so were her beatings, usually, and right now she so resembled a darling woodland fairy, in her lacy-gauzy-fluffy-fairy dress and her DEAR little shoes and the twines of posies in her golden hair! Oh WHAT WAS down those panties?

Little Malachite was getting happy just wondering about it.

He wanted to find out once and for all, and he wanted to stick his manly sausage roll into whatever it was, for that was how it worked, so he'd heard, and Zoycite was a girl and stuff, and she'd hit him if he tried getting down anybody else's panties. That was for sure, oh yes. They'd gotten as far as the threats and tying-up and things, so it couldn't be long but... no, he just hadn't seen the other side of those panties yet. Dammit world.

Zoycite meantime went about her pretty weaving, dreaming her little dreamy dreams. She was a maiden, a virgin, a fairy-woodthing and OH so innocent and pure, but deep in the corners of her tiny mind she could dream! Could she ever! Her thoughts tripped merrily along the roads of chains and whips and bondage, loud panting and sweat and brass knuckles. Her mother had told her all about it (if you know what I mean-- nudge nudge!); the joys of being a woman, nay, a Womyn-- to find a man and tie him down and have him whimpering with terror. Oh how she wanted this with Malachite, who shared with her so honestly his thorough stupidity and wood-lice AND mystic secrets, don't forget those. The thoughts of him chained to a bed made her little sugar tunnel damp and tingly. And if he ever got her pregnant she'd cut him into tiny pieces and have him for her lunch.

Malachite chose the moment to effectively doom himself as he began chewing a mouthful of her hair. And Zoycite grinned ferally. "Oh darling," she gushed, "would you mind showing me the joys of making love?"

He didn't, particular, and said so. Oh Splendids!

Intent upon this, Malachite began the process of undressing his delicate lady-love, fumbling with all the infernal buttons and laces and zippers and clasps on her ornate and historically authentic gown. After some moments of tugging and mumbling and promising Not Long Now Dear, he found himself slapped soundly and thrust back to land heavily upon his manly buttocks as Zoycite tore the whole ordeal down the front and advanced upon him like a mantis. His eyes fixed solidly upon those mysterious panties.

In so many words, she pulled his unremarkable clothes off of him and stood back, eyeing him critically. There did seem to be, as her mother had told her, the masculine standards-- useless nipples, belly button, and of course the Main Ingredient.

"Alright," she said, "Now stand up by the tree." and so lashed him firmly to't, with the tatters of that lovely frissy froossy frosting fairy dress.

Malachite still watched her panties.

"How sweet my little Zoycite is!" he murmured numbly. "And good and brilliant and kind! And what nice little panties." The wild crimson creeping into her eyes made her all the more alluring to him, girlie, female, without-a-John-Thomas wearing-those-panties little thing she was, and all.

Zoycite pointed at the manly protrusion featured on his lower torso. "This is the all-important pulsing pleasure pole?"

"Oh yes," Malachite responded fervently, "Come love, feel. Feel my great rolling pin, for it is all are belong to you." Zoycite obliged, poking the thing tentatively with her milky-white fairy fingertips. Soft and smooth and pinkish, she petted it until she realized it didn't seem inclined to perform any better tricks.

"Is that all the more it does?"

"Yes, my love. My Good Ship Lollipop has become larger and firmer for you, only for you, please don't hit me my sweet, so that we can, you know, go the whole way... do the... do the thing,"

"Ooooh," Zoycite said, with possibly a touch of sarcasm. "No use mucking about then," And her dainty fairy foot aimed a sharp kick at the base of the tree, which obligingly fell over, landing Malachite a bit stunned on his back on the large, mighty and fallen trunk... of the tree.

Then she ripped off her panties, and Malachite smiled.

He inhaled sharply as Zoycite leaned over him. His lover's smooth, flat chest pressed against his as she sprawled atop him, making him a little "prisoner." He didn't mind particular, as he had finally seen beyond those titillating panties.

Zoycite tickled her boyfriend's manly nightstick with her fingers, grinning wickedly. She felt an excitement that she had never felt before. She was so strong and powerful, so dominating and impossibly... dominant. Despite the fact that she was delicately made, like a fairy creature. Her lips brushed against his softly, and then she withdrew for a moment to wipe her nose on his discarded shirt, in its own way a sticky, snotty kiss.

Malachite wiggled one of his arms free and reached up to caress Zoycite's soft breasts. ... Damn, forgot for a moment. He settled for lightly patting her flat chest and then laying meekly back. It worked... in that she didn't castrate him.

She just glared for a few seconds.

"I guess we can join together now," Zoycite finally said, "You're sure that's all the more your Manthing does?"

"Yes, dear,"

Zoycite licked her lips in a predatory way, and positioned herself. Now she was going to have the true, full (very full) experience of love-making. She made sure Malachite's happy stick was oriented properly towards her heavenly gates, which were, by the way, sticky with her love marmalade, then without further ado inserted Tab M into Slot Z.

"AAAAAAAAAAGGGHHH!! SON OF A BUSTY ITALIAN PROSTITUTE!!!"

"I must hurt you a little bit to love you, my dear," Malachite offered, "But now you are a maiden no longer. You are my woman!" Zoycite wound up and punched him in the nose. "Sorry ,"

"I'm still a fairy, though," Zoycite said crankily, after a few moments. "And as long as your stupid flagpole is In Like Flynn so help me I'm going to get an orgasm out of this," Malachite flinched, and closed his eyes. He trusted his lover not to kill him. Please.

Rather, she proceeded to ride him like a wild stallion, the pain melting away as she revelled in her power and control. Like the very ravens above, Zoycite shrieked and yelped, and Malachite made the best of the situation.

After some minutes of pretzel-stick-moving-in-and-out-of-dip action, Zoycite (with an especially shrill noise) plummetted off the cliff of happy and Malachite (with a strangled sigh of relief) followed, spitting a fine stream of the white stuff deep into her womanly wormhole.

"Oh, Malachite." Zoycite gasped.

"Zoycite my love," Malachite replied.

"Thank you Malachite," his love went on, "For making my dream come true." her eyes glinted evilly. "One of them anyway."

The brawny knight offered her a weak smile. "Untie me please?"

"Certainly," the fairy replied, starting to pick at one of the knots. "Oh... Malachite, darling, do you own any whips?"

Malachite watched his love as she set to work freeing him. Now that he knew what was beyond those panties, he loved her even more. He would do anything and face anything for her. He would always fight to keep her safe, happy, and from killing him, if at all possible.