You agree to have sex with the poor, pent-up arachnid maid, and playfully undress, tossing your red, high-society bodysuit to the side to fully expose yourself, just like your soon-to-be lover. Meanwhile, your cunt drips while your labia engorge, growing more sensitive and ready to be touched.
You agree to have sex with the poor, pent-up arachnid maid, and playfully undress, tossing your red, high-society bodysuit to the side to fully expose yourself, just like your soon-to-be lover. Meanwhile, your cunt drips while your labia engorge, growing more sensitive and ready to be touched.

The arachnid woman turns around and shakes her bottom at you, letting your eyes trace up and down the surface of her shiny, thigh-high carapace to her pert, heart-shaped ass and pendulous abdomen. It contracts and trembles, wobbling dangerously before it disgorges a heavy spray of webbing. The sticky, organic bindings smack into you and pin you to the ground, though the cushiony peat moss is soft enough to prevent injury. In fact, it’s nearly mattress-like in its sponginess. You give a futile half-struggle before the spider hits you with another wave of webbing, completely gluing you down in an impenetrable mass of white stickiness. You can’t help but notice that she’s avoided your groin, face, and jiggly tits entirely.

“Just one more for safety,” coos the spider with a hungry, almost feral look in her eye. Her carapace-clad knees knock together and she grunts softly before spraying one last layer of her web atop you. She climbs on to you now that her task has been finished and explains, “We wouldn’t want my skin to get stuck to the sticky web while we’re fucking, now would we?” You nod, a little worried about your position for the first time.

The arachnid-girl smirks, her face taking on a cruel, predatory cast as she says, “You’re going to service me and love it.”

The spider-morph licks her lips and rubs her hands over her ass and abdomen, moaning lewdly as she gives in to her long-neglected sexual needs. Narrowing slightly, her glittering purple eyes lock onto your exposed black nipples. The spider-girl purses her reflective black lips into a seductive pucker a moment before devouring one of the pointy areola. You feel the tips of her fangs against your skin, scraping tiny, venom-filled furrows into your flesh with each fruitless, nipple-engorging suckle she gives you.

You wriggle underneath your spidery dominatrix, helplessly caught within her web while she torments each of your ebony perky nipples. Your lust builds ever higher, and while your loins ache for the slightest touch, she tactfully avoids your drooling nether-lips, leaving them to stew in their own juices. You moan, unable to remain silent under such stimulation. The lusty arachnid-girl finally pops off your puffed-up nipples and looks up past the red scratches to your face.

“Delicious! Now to get you ready,” she says with a smug grin. You groan your frustration, but your voice is thrown up a few octaves when she sinks over an inch of her needle-like fangs into your breast. Venom boils into your pierced flesh, the hot drug burning through your veins as your body spreads it throughout all its extremities. Your smooth, milky white skin flushes, and though you didn’t think it possible, your vagina gushes out a veritable flood of slick girlcum that turns the pearly threads a damp gray. The air stinks with the heady aroma of puddling girl-lust, and you instinctively hump against your bindings, the restraints turning your motions into little more than pathetic, repetitive muscle twitches.

The spider-girl pulls back and admires her handiwork for a moment before she repeats the action on your other breast. By now, your body is thrumming with sexual need and even the pain of her fangs penetrating your flesh registers as nothing more than a burst of masochistic pleasure. A gush of girl-cum splatters out of your cooter, the poor, aphrodisiac-laden box having a tiny orgasm from the liquid lust the spider is dumping into your veins. You don’t even try to stifle the needy whines you’re making anymore, resorting to moaning like a wanton slut... anything to entice the spider to hurry up and fuck you already.

The monster-woman lays her hand across your mons to feel your warm need spill out between her fingers, the liquid lust making her smooth, black carapace glitter darkly in the muted, swampy sunlight. She announces, “I think my play-toy is ready,” with a throaty purr.

Chitinous knees sink into the web and loam around your head, and the large black sphere of the spider’s abdomen blocks the light, forcing your eyes to adjust to the shade between the arachnid-woman’s legs. Now that you can get a look, you truly examine the spider-girl’s box. Unlike the rest of her pale skin, the spider-girl’s sex is dark as midnight and shining with feminine moisture, the flesh around it fading to a dusky color as it slowly blends back into her near-porcelain complexion.

She rubs a finger between your lips to get at your puddling lady-spunk and asks, “Like what you see? Well if you want me to do any more, you had better start licking, because I’ll keep injecting you with more venom until you get me off!”

To emphasize her point, the spider-girl bites down on your leg and squirts a fresh load of her overwhelming, sexual venom deep inside you. Another squirt gushes out, soaking the dominatrix’s fingertip, and you pant and beg for release, knowing you’ll do anything she asks at this point. In response, the exoskeleton-covered legs spread further apart, lowering those midnight lips close enough to be within easy licking distance. The first bead of moisture drops down to splat on your lips, and you lick it off unthinkingly, getting your first taste of your spidery mistress.

The arachnid sex tastes... sweet - unnaturally so, almost cloying in its intensity. You lean up to lick at her slimy black box, and as soon as you make contact with her oozing nether-lips, her legs give out, dropping her weight fully on to you and smothering you in her honey-dripping cunt. Grunting in discomfort from the change in pressure, your aphrodisiac-addled mind remembers that licking her pussy will get you release. You thrust your tongue forward with every ounce of your strength, burying the inhuman length into her vagina, curling it around the walls and stroking them all with even motions. The hard nub of her clit bumps your lower lip, and you start to open and close your jaw as fast as possible to stroke that tiny pleasure-organ off.

Your arachnid mistress rocks her hips against your face, her asscheeks and weighty abdomen utterly enveloping the rest of her visage as she rides your mouth like her own personal pleasure rodeo. Her fem-spooge slowly fills your cheeks, and you hum in pleasure at the almost sickeningly-sweet taste while you gulp it down in between your oral assaults. Her box becomes your focus, the absolute meaning for your life, while her hips and thighs replace the rest of the world. You feel her begin to masturbate you with the hard, unforgiving chitin of her digits, relenting every time you slow even the slightest amount, and you fuck her with your mouth, constantly trying to do more and more, a complete slave to your mistress' whims.

Once again, fangs stab deep into your legs, not too far from the last injection, stoking the sexual need to levels you can’t even comprehend. You twist and scream, babbling in bliss and agonizing need, but restrained as you are, it’s a pointless endeavor. The spider-girl slaps your vulva with one hand each time she withdraws her finger, teasing you even as your pussy works to turn the swamp into a lake full of girl-cum. The shining legs clamp about your head and push you harder into her climaxing cunt, a veritable flood of spider-spunk gushing into your mouth while her tunnel clamps and squeezes your tongue. The dick-milking contractions threaten to crush your tongue completely!

Throughout it all, the fingertip in your cooter sits idle, not even bothering to provide the slightest stimulation. Her lack of attention leaves you to thrust and push at your restraints futilely while your face is fucked by the sweet, sweet spider-puss. You cry out in frustration, the scream of anguish only vibrating the dominatrix’s clit that much harder, prolonging her orgasm even further. The puffy black lips squelch noisily on your face a few moments longer, before they finally depart with a messy scchhhhhlick.

You cry and beg for release, but the shuddering spider-morph’s only answer is a languid bite on your arm, pumping a fresh batch of her lust-inducing toxins into your body. Once finished with your latest cunt-flooding injection, she asks, “Why do all that work when I can just keep biting you until you’re sitting here creaming my web for hours?”

Each of her love-bites hurts less than the last, completely replacing the sensation of pain with agonizing pleasure. Your drooling twat grows so sensitive that you can feel each of the puffed up, soaked lips rubbing against the other with every contraction and twitch that ripples down your legs. The sated arachnid woman brushes her hand over your sweating forehead as she whispers, “Shhhh, one more bite ought to give you some release.”

Her fangs sheath themselves in your neck, pouring the potent aphrodisiacs straight into your arteries and setting off fireworks of pleasure in what’s left of your psyche. Your pussy throbs and puddles juice on the ground over and over, each climax triggering off the contractions of the previous until your eyes roll back, your mouth drapes open, and you moan in mindless, absolute pleasure. You cum, and cum, and cum for what seems like hours, and though you feel the taste of the spider’s pussy on your lips a few more times, your mind is too busy drowning in bliss to record anything more than tiny, fragmented bursts of sensation into your memory.

During your dreamless sleep, your body registers the feeling of your restraints being removed, but you slumber on, completely unaware.