1 comments/ 35199 views/ 8 favorites The Spider's Web By: leanne2k Hello, my name is Jenna. I am a lesbian Mistress who specializes in hypnosis. My friends call me The Spider because of how methodically easy I trap straight girls into my little webs of sexual domination. Some of you might be asking, "Wouldn't it be easier to be dominant over girls who willingly would serve me without the influence of hypnosis?" And yes it would be, but it would also be extremely boring as well. Some of you might think this makes me a bad person and maybe it does. But it feels so good to be so bad. I can't tell you how many girls have fallen to their knees in front of me, but I can tell you, I have never ever lost! I guess it would be a good idea to tell you folks what I look like. I am five feet eight inches tall. I weigh 125 lbs. I have light brown hair that goes a little past my shoulders. and green eyes that can melt any girl within minutes. I tan so my skin is bronze in color. My pussy I have natural 38C tits with nipples that stick out long and hard when I'm aroused or cold. J I bet your thinking that I'm pretty hot huh? As you can tell I have no self confidence issues. One night, not too long ago, I was hanging out at this lesbian bar downtown. I was dressed in a black diamond studded bra, a denim jacket, a pair of black six inch heels, and a tight pair of leather pants that showed of my cute tight bubbled ass. I really wasn't looking for any fun that night, but that would soon change when she walked in. She was around five and a half feet tall, she had honey blonde hair, and she had the bluest eyes I had ever seen. She was wearing a pair of tennis shoes, a pink t-shirt and a pair of jeans. She was tan like me and I couldn't really tell, but it looked like her breasts were as big as mine as well. I don't think she knew that she was in a gay bar, but every woman there whether she was a bull dyke or femme was eye fucking her from the moment she walked in through door. The girl sat down at the bar and ordered a beer. She looked troubled. So troubled I don't think she immediately picked up on the facts that one she was in a lesbian bar and two, she was the center of the attention of the entire room. But it didn't take that long for her to figure all of that out. And when she did figure that out, you could see the shock, worry, and embarrassment all over her face. Everybody in the bar kind of stopped "eye fucking" her. I think the other girls could tell that this girl was upset about something and now she was embarrassed everyone just left her alone..... Well everyone except me. The Spider had just found a tasty little fly about to be entangled in her web........ I walked up to the bar, sat down beside her and ordered a shot of tequila. I downed the shot and began laying my trap. "Oh wow! That's a good burn! Oh hello. My name is Jenna?" She didn't reply. "Cat got your tongue?" We both laughed at that comment. It must have broken the ice because she finally responded. "I'm Mickie. Sorry. I didn't mean to blow you off, I just now figured out where I was....You see I'm... I'm a.... I'm not....." "A lesbian?" "No. I just needed a drink and this was the first place I saw. I just really want to finish this beer and get out of here." "Well you look troubled. Need a friendly shoulder to cry on?" "Well....." "Hold on a second. Bartender? Can you make us a couple more tequilas? Trust me Mickie, this will make me feel better." The bartender brought us our tequila. We drank them. "God that burns! Wow! Sorry. I've never shot tequila before. "So what's the problem? Guy problems?" "Yeah. Found my boyfriend in bed with another woman tonight. Guys are such pieces of trash." "That's why I never fool with them." We both laughed again. Her's felt a little more forced and awkward, "Relax. I'm not hitting on you. Bartender can we get two more tequilas please?" So she told me all about how she found her boyfriend with another girl. And as she told the story. I kept filling her up with tequila. (I like to use tequila to get my prey drunk. J ) The more she told about her story the more upset she got. She was almost in tears. And this is when The Spider struck. "Mickie. You need to calm down. Look into my eyes." "What?" "Just trust me. You will feel better soon. Now look into my eyes." "Now just breathe slowly in and out in and out. Don't take your eyes away from my eyes. Just breathe. Let my voice put you at ease." I repeated myself several times and I could soon tell that she was under my influence. Her eyes were over but they looked so lost. The lights were on but no one was home. "Mickie? Can you hear me?" Her voice was so emotionless. "Yes." "I'm going to pay our tabs. When I do, I want you to follow me to my car. Then you will give me the directions to your apartment. Understand?" "Yes." I had to restrain myself from doing anything to Mickie on the drive to her apartment. Thankfully the drive wasn't too terribly long. When we got to her apartment, I ordered Mickie to take me inside her place. Once we were inside I told her to sit down on her couch. I brought my "special bag" and video camera with me and set it up and turned it on. The games were about to begin. "Mickie? Repeat after me: Jenna is my Mistress." "Jenna is my Mistress." "I am her submissive slut." "I am her submissive slut." "I live to please her." "I live to please her." "She is my Goddess." "She is my Goddess." "Good slut. Now stand. Strip off your clothes, slut." "Yes Mistress." Mickie stood up and began removing her clothes. First she took off her shirt. She was wearing a little black bra that her big yummy breasts were practically falling out of. Next she kicked off her shoes and socks. Then she slowly pulled her pants down to her ankles and stepped out of them. Her underwear was the same color as her bra. She started to remover her bra and panties, but I had other plans. "Stop right there slut." "Yes Mistress." I walked up behind her and removed her bra and freed her sweet tits from their prison. I wrapped my hands around them and played with her breasts. "Moan for Mistress." Mickie moaned as I rubbed her tits and began to pull and pinch her nipples. I began kissing and biting her neck. "Lay down on the ground slut." Mickie laid down on the ground and I removed her panties. I was surprised that her pussy was shaven clean. I wasn't surprised by how wet it was. I began to rub and finger her wet cunt, She began moaning and bucking her hips wildly. When she appeared on the edge of cumming I stopped. She started to protest. "No no no, my Slut. I get my pleasure before you do. Get on your knees." I quickly removed my clothes and was soon as nude as my slut was. I stood before her and continued my game. "Kiss my feet slut." "Yes Mistress." Mickie bent over and kissed my feet. I told her to suck on my toes and use her tongue and lick every inch of my feet. She did. She was such a pro. I sat down on the couch and spread my legs. " Crawl to me. Eat me out slut. Make me cum." "Yes Mistress." Mickie crawled so seductively towards me. Her ass was so cute as it wiggled as she crawled. She pulled herself up between my legs as I shoved my wet pussy in her face. She began slowly kissing, no making out with my pussy. God her tongue was so talented. She rammed it so far into my pussy it felt like a small dildo fucking me so hard. I kept ramming my pussy hard, fucking her face. I was surprised how she was able to keep up. She was so awesome. When I finally came, I exploded all over her face. When I pushed her away, her hair, face and her breasts were covered in my pussy juice. She had the euphoric glazed look in her eyes, but I wasn't done yet! I went over to my bag and pulled out my twelve inch strapon dildo. I slipped it on and tightened it over my pussy. I turned to Mickie. "Get back on your knees slut." "Yes Mistress." I shoved my strappy in her face. "Suck it bitch! Make it wet." She eagerly took my phallus in her mouth and began licking and sucking it. She was so good at it, she almost made me wish that I had a real penis! She started to gag when she tried to take it all in her mouth so I barked out instructions. "Take it easy slut. Just breathe. Relax your throat." She did, and after a little more gagging, my love toy slipped down my little fuck toys throat. "Good girl!" I began fucking her face, giving her a little preview of what was in store for her filthy cunt in just a few moments. After a few minutes, I felt my dildo was wet enough and pushed her off of it. "Lay down on your back and spread your legs." "Yes Mistress." "I'm going to fuck you slut, but you can't cum. Understand?" "Yes Mistress." After she laid down, I got on my knees between her legs. I picked her up by her hips and shoved her pussy on to my strapon and began to fuck her hard and wild. I turned into a wild animal, only caring for my own pleasure as I fucked her as she screamed and moaned like a woman on the brink of losing all sense of sanity. We changed positions a few times, to missionary, wheelbarrow, doggy, and once I even had her on her shoulders with her legs bent over with her ass and coochie in the air while I fucked her. I was kind of tired so we finished with her on top of me riding my cock. All of this went on for an hour non stop. I had almost forgot that I had told her she couldn't cum. I could tell by the look on her face that she was about to cum. "Get on your knees slut." "Yes Mistress." "Does the slut want to cum?" "Yes Mistress." "Beg me for it slut." "Please let me cum Mistress. Please! I'm begging you." I made sure the camera was focused on her when this next part began. "Whose slut are you?" "Yours Mistress." "Who owns you slut?" "You Mistress." "And you will do whatever I ask?" "Yes Mistress." "Good girl." I pulled off my strapon and handed it to Mickie. "Clean my love toy slut. While I give you a surprise before you cum." "Yes Mistress." As she began cleaning her girl spunk off my toy, I stood before her and spread my legs. "Mickie? Look up." Mickie, still licking my strapon like a lollipop, looked up. "It's time for your surprise." I began to pee on her marking her as mine. My urine splashed on her face and soaked her hair as it cascaded down her breasts. As I kept pissing I said: "You can cum now slut." "Thank you Mistress." At first she began to finger herself then she shoved the dildo back up her pussy and started fucking it again. She was moaning with such lust, that I was getting so horny that I began fingering myself after I finished pissing. I ordered her to the bathroom where we both showered together. We fucked once more and cleaned ourselves up. I got my clothes back on and ordered her to her bedroom. "Keep nude slut and lay down on the bed." "Yes Mistress." "I want you to sleep and rest for the next sixteen hours. When you awake, you will have no memory of what happened this evening. There will be a tape on your VCR. Play it. After you watch it, THEN you will vividly recall every moment that happened tonight. Then you will have a choice to make: Serve Me forever. Or deny yourself the joy and sexual pleasure you felt tonight forever. But I must warn you, shun me and you'll never enjoy sex like this ever again! Understand?" "Yes Mistress." "If you do wish to serve me, there will be directions on your refrigerator to your new home. Be there by eight tomorrow night. Understand?" "Yes Mistress." I kissed Mickie passionately. "I trust you'll make the right choice. Now sleep slut." "Yes Mistress." Mickie fell into a deep sleep and I left her apartment horny and anticipating the next night. I was sure that there was another plaything in the Spider's Web! To be continued... The Spider's Web Author's note: This story is a sequel to Summer Rules, which appeared in the Summer Loving Contest. * "Well, one good thing. We don't need costumes." Jan certainly had not bothered to dress up for Claude's Halloween party. Old jeans, big flannel shirt, her long dark hair hanging out from a little knit cap, she looked every bit the hippie college girl. Even so, one or two people recognized her, then Tom. There was no mistaking her face. Vampire chic, they were calling it, that long nose, the dark, deep set eyes, the look of a little girl totally devoid of innocence. Famous, they were famous now. As if they weren't recognizable enough, Jan had plunked herself down right next to one of the perfume posters. Not that there was any escaping them. Everywhere he went, he was staring at Jan's naked body, his naked body wrapped behind her, that blank look of bliss on both their faces. There were little whispers around the subway car. Two guys were staring at them with a mix of lust and envy. Lust for Jan, envy for Tom? Or was it the other way around? "We should have taken a cab," Tom fretted. "Depends on the cabbie." "There's that." He glanced at his watch -- a Rolex now, a gift from Claude. He didn't even want to guess how much it might be worth. "We're going to be late." "We've got a buffer. Party doesn't start till ten. Yvette wants to get us in costume." "I thought we were just going to be naked." Tom blurted it a bit too loudly, and Jan gave him a little kick. "She's going to prep us just like for a shoot," she whispered. "We need to look good. Claude has some important clients coming to this party." "We're going to be, like, living sculpture?" Tom tried to imagine himself holding a pose while the guests wandered around inspecting him. Worse still, touching him. "A little more than that. These are very important clients." "Shit." He got up off the bench. He hung on the railing above her, staring down at her. "It's not summer any more." It was, in fact, the end of October. "I thought we were a couple again. Just a couple." He didn't like the way she was blushing. "Tom." She got up to whisper into his ear. The touch of her breath made everything tingle. "Tom, you haven't been working since school started. I have." "Working as what?" "A model," she snapped, too loudly, right into that tingling ear. "Just a model?" "Doing what a model needs to do. The things you were doing before school started. And don't tell me you weren't having fun." "So at this party, we're supposed to be doing what models need to do?" Tom tried to sound irritated. He was irritated. He'd been faithful to her for the last six weeks. Maybe it was even seven by now. "Maybe." "Only maybe?" "Claude said that we should be ready to make ourselves available." "That sounds like more than a maybe." "You're mad at me?" "You should have told me." "I'm telling you now." "Isn't it a little late?" "Tom. Dear." She leaned in to give him the tingly ear again. "I need to go to this party. Claude is gambling a lot on this perfume thing. He needs backers. He needs ..." "Claude has a cash flow problem? Too many ads, not enough sales?" "He'll be fine after Christmas. All he needs is a little slack, a little goodwill." "He told you this?" "Yvette told me this. Yvette understands how to run a business. Claude has his head up his ass." "When it isn't up yours." The slap came so unexpectedly it nearly knocked him over. There was a murmur from the other passengers. "Careful," he muttered. He rubbed his jaw to see if it was swelling. "Don't damage the merchandise." "Sorry." She didn't sound very sorry. Then, she actually began to cry. "Jan, you don't have to do this." "Yes I do." She paused. "I want to do it. " She leaned in again to do the tingly whisper. "Don't you want it? Don't you want everyone in the room to want to fuck you? Don't you want to spend the whole night fucking?" "Being fucked." "Don't tell me you don't like that. I spend a lot of time up your ass." That was true. Jan had her own version now of Mr. Pinky. Maggie had given it to her as a going away present before she went back to college. "Don't tell me you don't wish it was a real cock." Her whisper had grown to a shout as the subway had squealed around a turn. But everything had gone silent abruptly. Everyone had heard the end of what she had been saying. Thankfully, it was time to get off. The two guys who had been closest to them got off behind them, trailing them. For a moment Tom thought there might be trouble. But they got out into the street and lost themselves in a crowd of costumed revelers. "Why is he having the party down here?" Tom had been down to Claude's loft a couple of times. It was barren compared to the apartment. "He's got it decorated. A haunted house or something. Yvette wouldn't let me see it. She said it was going to be a surprise." Even without Halloween decorations the loft was creepy enough. It still screamed sweatshop. Claude had done nothing to soften its industrial drabness. They went into an elevator car big enough to hold a tank, a relic from the nineteenth century, probably still the original equipment. It groaned its way up to the top floor. "Next time," Tom grumbled, "we take the steps." "You ever see the stairway? There are people on that stairway." "Homeless?" "Yep. And worse. Personally, I'll take my chances with the elevator." "You're late!" Yvette was shouting at them through the grille even before it opened to release them. "Come on, hurry up, we have to get you set up before the guests arrive. "Set up?" " Hurry, get your clothes off," Yvette was ignoring Jan's question. "Where did you get those shoes? No, don't tell me." She was staring contemptuously at Tom's loafers. "Tom McAnn. Set up?" "You will greet our guests with a living tableau of the perfume ad. An exact replica. Assuming," she gave a flick at the flaccidity Tom had revealed by stripping off his chinos, "that you are capable." "You want us to sit there with my dick up her ass?" "Yes, just the way we did the shoot. God, what is all this hair?" She was staring at Tom's legs. "And what is that?" She pointed to a purple spot just below his right knee. "It's a bruise. I got kicked." "Soccer season," Jan amplified. "Well, we'll see what we can do. Come, hurry, hurry. Have you purged your bowels?" "Maybe." Tom was feeling nervous, and feeling nervous made him queasy. "Jan ..." He trailed off. No point in complaining. "Well, take care of it while I do Jan." She had ushered them into an area that had been screened off and set up as a bathroom. She was gesturing towards the toilet, then to Jan. "Come here dear. Bend over." She had something in her hand that buzzed, that she was shoving up Jan's butt. At first Tom thought it was a vibrator. Then he realized it was a little electric razor. "You look fine otherwise. As for your boyfriend ..." She came over and knelt in front of the toilet, grabbing Tom's right ankle. "Are you making any progress?" "It's a little distracting." "Tom, dearest, we do not have time to go away and let you meditate. You have until I finish this other leg. Then you are going to wipe yourself and flush the toilet and you will turn around so I can shave your butt." He closed his eyes. He tried to ignore the buzzing. He was used to clearing himself out for anal sex. Jan didn't like getting shit on Mr. Pinky. There was no sink in her room in the dorm. If it got dirty, he had to lick it off, that was the threat, and once he and actually done it, right in front her. He tried to imagine he was in the bathroom in her suite, getting ready for Mr. Pinky time. Funny. How often had been crouched on Jan's bed with Mr. Pinky up his ass, fantasizing about a night like this? Be careful what you wish for. "Get yourself cleaned up." Yvette's mocking drawl broke his reverie. "I guess," she gave a disdainful sniff, "you will be ready now." There wasn't a proper shower, just an ancient free standing bath tub with clawed feet. Tom's grandparents had a tub like that. There was a little shower head on a handle to rinse off with after the bath. They made do with that. One advantage of it, it could work as a bidet. "Your arms," Yvette snapped, "your armpits." She trapped him once again to rid him of the offending hair. She ran the shaver over his face, too, even though it was perfectly smooth. "It will have to do." She knelt down and took his flaccid cock into her mouth, half his freshly shaved balls also. She stuck a finger up his freshly cleaned out asshole. "What?" "You need to be able to penetrate Miss Happening here, and you don't seem to be up to it. Apparently she is not providing you with sufficient inspiration." "We fuck all the time," Jan snapped, but actually it wasn't true. After a full day of school, after soccer practice, his tongue for her, Mr. Pinky for him, was more reliable. Half the time they did try to fuck, it wound up that way in the end anyway. "Do I need to get Claude?" Yvette's ministrations were not doing much. "Claude is not big enough," Tom sneered. He was rewarded with another slap, to his balls this time. That was enough to get his interest. "Oh." Ivette released him again to inspect progress. She gave him another three slaps and he was ready. "No hash?" Tom asked hopefully. "My friend, I am quite sorry. We are trying to prepare a party for two dozen guests. We did not have time to set up a hookah just for you. Perhaps, later." "Two dozen?" That was from Jan, and it was delivered with a little gasp. "Do not worry, my dear. Half of them are women. Others are only interested in boys. Some may even have a shred of decency in them, although I would be surprised." "Tom, believe me, I didn't realize. I thought maybe a half dozen, maybe a few more ..." "You never asked." Yvette was staring at her. "I would not lie to you." "Tom." Jan was staring at him in alarm, thinking he would shrivel at the news. But it was having just the opposite effect. He was rigid, trembling, and the tip of his penis was starting to ooze a little. "Tom, my dear, you are a little whore." Yvette ran her finger over the tip, tasted it. She made a face. "Asparagus. Why would you eat that on a night like this?" "It's my fault," Jan said. "I cooked us dinner." "How domestic of you. Come." There was a small table, almost like an altar, covered with black cloth, set up in the main room. "You will arrange yourselves here. Hurry. The elevator is coming up already." "It's too small." Tom sat on the top. His knees were dangling over one edge, his butt over the other. "Make it work!" Yvette snapped. "Act like a professional!" "Professional what?" Tom retorted. But he pulled up his legs, almost into swami position. He pushed his butt back a little more. Jan backed to the edge of the table, and he lifted her up and impaled her on his erection. There was no problem getting past her asshole -- in fact, considerably less than there had been. Tom wondered just what she had been fucking. Someone or something the size of a small horse had been going up her butt. It was no wonder she only wanted his tongue these days. She wiggled into position, then tensed up so that she was gripping him, but not too tightly. "When the fuck did you learn to do that?" He aimed his whisper to give her the tingly ear. He was rewarded with a little spasm. "I've been practicing with Mr. Pinky." She said it with as much innocence as she could muster, sitting naked with cock up her ass. It was possible, it was even somewhat credible, but he didn't believe her. "Ah, magnifique!" The guests had arrived. Apparently word had gone out to be on time, because there must have been more than a dozen of them surging out of the elevator. Despite what Yvette had said, there were only two or three of them dressed as women, and those might have been guys in drag. "Looks like a long night for you," Tom whispered. "For me?" Jan somehow managed to give a little shrug. "Want to make a bet on that? I'll bet you that all the straight guys are here with their wives." The guests had surged in and stopped, about ten feet away. Tom and Jan had positioned themselves so that the first view of them was the same the camera had given on the perfume poster. That meant that Jan's breasts, such as they were, were covered by Tom's hands. Maybe Tom's balls weren't quite as well hidden. There had been a touch of airbrush magic there. The crowd stopped, they spread out little, perhaps, but they would not move closer. "Please," Yvette said, "don't be shy." She was kissing each of them, and complimenting them on their costumes. Claude was out there kissing away also. Well, Tom thought, French guys kissed each other, but those kisses seemed somehow more intimate. Strange, he probably had encountered some of them before, during the summer. He had probably had their cocks at either end of his digestive system and that didn't bother him. But kissing, that he could not, would not do. Despite Yvette's assurances, the guests were still keeping their distance. They were edging closer, but no one dared to be the first. "Don't be shy," Jan said, and there was a little gasp. "What are you, crazy?" Tom hissed. "It's going to happen, sooner or later. Do you want to be sitting here all night?" "Why not?" Well, actually, his butt was going to sleep because the table was so hard, and Jan was too bony, digging into his thighs. And, despite all his preparations, he needed to pee. It had seemed that there was an invisible fence, a force field right out of Star Trek, protecting them from the guests. Perhaps it was the coyness of the pose, the beauty of the posers, or their youth. Perhaps none of the guests wanted to be the first. But after Jan's invitation, it was clear that there was nothing to prevent the guests from walking right up to the table. There was nothing to prevent them, it appeared, from moving away Tom's hand and running a finger over her nipples, or from moving her hands away to expose her lower lips. Or, to run another finger back between those lips to verify how Tom's flesh was intersecting hers. "Come on Larry, get out of the way." It was a burly black man dressed up as Superman doing the probing. A rather chubby black Wonder Woman was pulling him away. "Let everyone else get a look." "Do you know how many times I've stared at that poster, just wanting to do that? Man, oh man, that makes my day." "Later," Claude said, "you will be able to inspect them to your heart's content." "Not if I have anything to say about it," Wonder Woman grumbled. Something was rubbing along the base of Tom's spine. A thumb, he told himself, but it felt too big and soft. He risked a glance behind him. Rob Roy was standing there, in a kilt and a white dress shirt with the bottom of the sleeves ripped off, opened wide to reveal too much hairy chest. Apparently Rob Roy had gone commando. . Now that 'thumb' was trying to work its way into the gap Tom between his butt and the table. It was just reaching the edge of his asshole, just rubbing enough that the tip was starting to work its way into the outer ring. "What's happening?" Jan whispered. Tom was twitching inside her at each poke into his butt, and she was starting to twitch a little in response. Spiderman had come up to the front of them. At least, it was a guy dressed in Spiderman pajamas, and a dime store mask. Not a very fancy costume for such a high class party, Tom thought, but it was effective. The pajamas were very tight, and the guy was really built, with bulging thighs, huge shoulders and biceps. The pajamas had an open fly, no button or zipper, and there was an impressive erection sticking straight out through that opening, cloaked in a bright blue condom to match the rest of the costume. Jan was looking at it with some apprehension. She'd never had a cloaked penis in her mouth. What would happen if the condom came off inside her throat? She'd choke to death. But it was rubbing between her breasts, or what passed for them. What was that called, an eighty one? Something her very busty older sister had scoffed that she would never be able to pull off. It was starting to rub upward again, and she began to panic. It wasn't that she was squeamish. She'd teased Tom that he'd have to clean off Mr. Pinky, and one time he had actually done it. He'd turned around while she was still wearing it and stuck it in his mouth, almost casually, to her astonishment. Had he been doing that furtively, on his own? Then, the next time his cock had come out of her butt, he'd dared her to do the same thing, and it had been -- interesting. More interesting than she had cared to admit. But this blue abomination did not smell interesting. It smelled medicinal, industrial. It smelled like it had been lubricated with WD40. She was starting to gag. Mercifully, it retreated. Down her belly it rubbed. There was a little bit of condom hanging on beyond the tip, and it felt really, really creepy, but she tried to keep her composure. Tom was moving up and down inside her in rhythm to Rob Roy's humping, and she tried to concentrate on that. Finally the blue clad prick worked its way down to her groin, and that was a lot more interesting. But she was a little too far back on the table, far enough so that the tip of that penis could only reach the crease between her lips. "Tom," she whispered, "help me!" He could have shifted forward, so Spiderman could fuck her properly. That probably was the help she was looking for. Instead, he shifted back. "What the fuck are you doing?" Jan yelped. He had almost gone over backwards. He had almost slid out of Jan. It was only Robbie's belly against his back that saved him. There was a grunt of satisfaction from behind him as the 'thumb' wiggled its way deeper into him. It wasn't nearly as thick as Mr. Pinky. Not as long, either, although maybe it was just the angle that was bad. Spiderman was not about to be denied so easily. He wedged his impressive thighs against the table, and pushed The table top was not made for that kind of punishment. It snapped, and the blue super prick vanished between Jan's pussy lips. That only impaled Tom more deeply onto Rob Roy, who suddenly was bearing most of the weight of the other three. The back legs of the table were supporting the rest, but not for long. They collapsed, and it was only Robbie's grip on what remained of the table top that was keeping them all from tumbling to the floor. For some reason, the Scottish hero was in a bit of a hurry now. Two more grunts, two more pushes, and Tom's asshole was very wet. He could feel himself dribbling on the floor. That had been enough to make him come, almost absentmindedly, inside Jan. At least he hoped that was what had happened and it hadn't been his urge to pee getting the better of him. She was too slippery now, and he was shriveling. She squirmed in irritation, and that only made things worse. Then she got distracted as Robbie Boy pushed his end of the table up and Spiderman went down on his back with her on top of him. She started to bob up and down with too much enthusiasm for Tom's taste. It was interesting, even arousing, to watch his girl friend fuck, but she could have cut the screams out a bit. That arching back, the look of rapture, the shudders -- she certainly was putting on a good show. She never came like that for him. Usually she just got very quiet, and he could feel her tense up. Then he'd keep doing whatever he was doing until she gave a little sigh and said that was enough. But if this was an act, it was a very convincing one. He was getting jealous. Finally, she more or less collapsed on the spidey stomach, and those huge orange biceps lifted her off. Tom had the chivalry to catch her. Spiderman stood up. He was limp now, still wearing the condom with a huge white blob hanging down in the tip of it, and he didn't even have the decency to tuck the disgusting mess back inside the pajamas. He was walking around letting it all dangle like a trophy. The Spider's Web "Would you like some champagne?" One of Claude's other models was walking around with a tray of fluted glasses. She was dressed, if you could call it that, as cat woman -- a cap with little ears on her head, whiskers glued to her cheeks, her arms and legs covered in gloves and stockings that looked like orange fur. Her torso was completely bare. She had a little cat tail sprouting out her butt. On the other side a little cat face had been painted around her pussy. Tom reached for a glass, but Yvette intercepted him. "Time to go. The natives are getting restless." "Getting restless?" Jan muttered. "I'd hate to see what they're like when they get rowdy." "Oh, you will my dear, you will. But not out here. We worked too hard to get everything set up to let it go to waste." "Set up? Where?" She didn't answer. She just dragged them off the table and into the next room. Well, it wasn't a room exactly. It was an area that had been separated by heavy black curtains that went all the way up to the loft ceiling. Inside it was dark, so dark it took a few minutes before Tom's eyes adjusted. "What the fuck?" The room was dominated by two huge spider webs, made of thick rope, each centered about ten feet off the ground. The floor beneath them was covered with thick pads. "You two will be hanging in the webs -- the poor trapped flies. Naked, of course, spread eagled and helpless. The spiders will crawl up and ... well, you can guess the rest." "We're going to be tied up?" Jan was trying to break the grip Yvette had on her arm. "No one said anything about being tied up." "I explained it to you," Yvette sighed. "You just were not paying attention." "You told me about the web. You never said anything about being tied up." "You agreed to let yourself be used in any way our guests desired. Not in so many words, but you knew why you were coming here, did you not? What did you tell your boyfriend?" "She told me we were going to get fucked a lot. She didn't way anything about being tied up." "Well, there is no way you would hold your grip all evening. I will secure you so that most of your weight is supported with your thighs. You will really be quite comfortable." "But our wrists and ankles will be fastened to the web?" "Of course. Your vulnerability is the prize. But to attain it the spiders must climb up to you. It should be a fascinating experience." "Fascinating," Jan muttered. "No way in hell." But Tom was already climbing into position. "You see," Yvette was saying, "there is something almost like a strap on harness attached to the center of the web. Slip your legs into it. See how that supports you?" She climbed up in front of him. There were soft straps already in place to secure his wrists and ankles. "See now, isn't that comfy?" "I cannot believe that I am doing this," Jan grumbled. She climbed up and put herself into the harness on the other web. They were so close together that Yvette could swing over to her to fasten her in. "Think of it as an amusement park ride, my dear. Like going on a roller coaster. Just relax and enjoy it." "Yeah, sure." "Your boyfriend seems be looking forward to it." Yvette reached over and tried to pull Tom's web closer, but it was too heavy to budge much. He strained forward as far as he could, but the tip of his erection was still about a foot short of its target. Yvette leaned out from Jan's web to give it a little kiss. Then she clambered down beneath Jan to give a little lick between those spread eagled legs. "Merde!" Yvette was wiping her face off. Jan had peed on it. "I'm sorry, it just happened. I'm scared," Jan whimpered. "Scared? I'll show you scared, you little bitch." Yvette dropped to the mats and went over the edge of the room. She returned with a long metal rod. "Do you know what this is?" "A cattle prod?" Tom said. "It is the spider's sting," Yvette said. "Do you have any idea what this will feel like, against that cunt you have made so conveniently wet?" She zapped Jan's left foot to unleash a shattering scream. "We will have a little contest. The one who fucks you in the most creative way will have the honor of wielding the spider's sting." "You're kidding," Tom ventured. "Aren't you?" Just the fact that she was walking around with a cattle prod, that he was tied up watching her walk around with a cattle prod, was bad enough. "Am I?" She lifted it up and stuck it under his balls. She pulled the trigger, but the voltage setting was very low, no more than a pleasant tingling. Despite that, he let out a blood curdling scream. Yvette was so startled she dropped the cattle prod. And Jan ... he had literally scared the shit out of poor Jan, not that there was that much left after she had been swabbed out by him. "Merde! Fusking asshole!" Yvette's comments seemed merely descriptive. She went running out of the room cursing, leaving them hanging, so to speak. A couple minutes later the model dressed up as a cat came in, with a mop and pail. She cleaned the floor, then stuck the mop up to swab out between Jan's legs. Then she went over and retrieved the cattle prod. "Fucking bitch!" she snarled. "I was going to be the next big thing. Now all I'm good for is to clean up your shit! Bitch!" She stuck the prod up where she had just swabbed. "Shit! How does the fucking thing work?" "Pull the trigger," Tom suggested. That was enough to provoke a scream of outrage from his beloved. That was followed by a gasp of relief. The prod was still on low voltage. Then Jan had the presence of mind to scream in agony. "Yeah bitch! Take that!" "Lucy!" It was Yvette. "Later." Some of the guests had ventured into the spider den. Yvette whispered instructions and they stripped off at least the lower half of their costumes. A couple of them removed their masks. Tom found himself wondering what it would be like the next time he saw them. Then his view was obscured as one of them clambered up and stuck a cock into his mouth. After that, about all he saw was one hairy belly after another, bearing a cock that had often just come out of some other orifice. How often had he fantasized about being fucked at both ends of his digestive system, of being helpless as his flesh was plundered? He was not resisting, not in the slightest. He was opening his throat and bowels as wide as possible. He wanted more, he wanted bigger cocks, deeper penetration, harder thrusts. His bowels were on fire. He was trembling, shuddering. His whole body was tingling. It seemed like he would come forever. Then someone took his cock into their mouth, and he exploded. That ruined it for a while. The pounding continued, but he wasn't really feeling it. He needed a break, and he wasn't about to get it. For a moment, no one was covering his face, and he could see what was happening to Jan. Actually, he couldn't really see her. There was one guy up around her face, with his legs scrunched up to make room for another guy who was trying to fuck her. The lower guy's face kept bumping in to the first guy's balls. There was a third guy behind her. It seemed like all three had been at it for quite a while. They were pumping away with more determination than desire. As he was watching, the three of them, on some sort of signal, started to clamber around to rotate positions, and he got a good look at his beloved. She was glistening with sweat and semen. The one on the way up to her face paused to lick her groin, and she rewarded him with a very noisy climax. "Fuck me," she was sobbing, "don't stop." The one who had been fucking her was behind her now, and she gave a little gasp of satisfaction as he slid into her bowels. The sight was enough to restore Tom's erection. Of course, he was still being fucked. That had been so constant that he was more or less taking it for granted. It was going to feel strange not to have a cock wedged in his flesh. But now, watching Jan, he was once again noticing how good it felt each time that cock slid into him, how impatient he was for the next thrust, how he was wishing that whoever it was behind him could get just a little deeper, be just a little faster, a little harder. "Fuck me!" He was actually saying it out loud. "Fuck my fucking asshole!" "Fucking whore," a voice growled behind him. "I'm going to fuck the shit out of you, you fucking whore!" And he was battered for about thirty seconds, and it was glorious, but it stopped after one long plunge. There was a breeze on his back. He was left hanging. "Oh, honey, it looks like you have a problem." Wonder Woman was staring up at him. "Momma's got the cure for you." She started to clamber up the ropes to reach him. The web was heaving with each of her moves. Somewhere nearby there was shrill, high pitched laughter. Jan wasn't busy at the moment. She was watching him. She was laughing at him. Some of guys had been pretty flabby, although mostly the flabby ones had been interested in Jan. That hadn't bothered him. Even if it had, it would have not made much difference. They were fucking him, not the other way around. But how was he supposed to keep up his interest when this huge, well, fairly large, black tit was being shoved into his mouth? "Come on, boy. Momma is here to help you." She was grinding away with her pelvis. She could not spare a hand to guide him in, but somehow he thought that the flesh around his prick changed character, from sweaty flab to hot slick cunt, too loose for him to get much sensation. "Oh, boy, that makes Momma feel good. Hey boy, don't punk out on me now. Hey, Larry honey, come give me some help here." "You want me to fuck your butt?" "Ho, honey, I want you to fuck his butt. Perk him back up again." "I ain't fucking no boy's butt." "Honey, everybody's been fucking that butt. Don't tell me you haven't been watchin'." "Watchin' is different than doin'." But Superman was climbing up the web behind him. Superman was rubbing a large, limp prick against his ass. The soft tip was rubbing against the anal ring, and Tom was so loose by now that it was just sliding right in, even though it was still not hard. Then all of a sudden it was hard, and he was being fucked once more. Just the rubbing had been enough to restore Tom's erection, at least he thought so. It was hard to know exactly what was going on inside the soft vastness of the Wonder Woman cunt. She was pressing in and out, hopefully feeling more than he was, totally out of rhythm with Superman. The jerky motion was making Tom queasy. God only knew what had been forced down his throat -- semen, his own shit, maybe some of Jan's. Maybe even some urine. It was all churning in his stomach. He was going to lose it. He was going to puke all over Wonder Woman. Just as he was sure he was about to vomit, the lights came on. "Refreshment time! We have some very interesting refreshments." It was Claude, not Yvette, making the announcement. He gave and exaggerated snort to emphasize just what the refreshments would be. "You know," he added, "things go better with coke!" At that, everyone left the room. Everyone, that is, except for Tom and Jan. No one had bothered to let them down. After a few minutes, maybe it was only half a minute but it seemed like forever, the model dressed up as cat woman came in to see them. "Lucy," Jan ventured. "Get us down." "Bullshit. No one said anything about letting you down. They're just getting ready for the next round." Lucy was over in the corner looking for something. She gave a grunt of satisfaction as she retrieved the cattle prod. "I just came in to get first dibs. We have a little unfinished business, anyway." "What next round?" Jan asked. "Why, the spider sting." Lucy turned on the cattle prod. It was making a nasty buzz. She touched a finger to the tip and winced. "We've got three more of these. They're drawing straws right now to see who gets to be first. But it's going to be me. I'm going to shove this right up your puny little cunt and keep it going until the battery dies." "You wouldn't," Jan ventured. "You don't think so?" Lucy reached up to poke the rod into Jan's groin. "Guess what?" Jan's answer was a scream. It appeared that Lucy had figured out how to adjust the voltage. After about ten seconds, Lucy did stop. So did Jan's screams. But now there was a rhythmic chanting coming from the room beyond. "Spiders! Spiders! Sting! Sting! Sting!" The guests were working themselves into a frenzy. "Sting!" Lucy shrieked, and the started to zap Jan again. But Tom came crashing down on top of her, knocking her unconscious. He had found that he was so slick with sweat that his hands came right out of the restraints. He had freed himself while Lucy was distracted with Jan. "We have to get out of here," he stated the obvious while he was freeing his beloved. "Just a moment." Jan paused, astride her fallen erstwhile friend, and let loose a cascade of urine. Tom pulled her away. "That was uncalled for." "She wasn't zapping your asshole. Bitch." She tried to give a kick and almost slipped on the puddle she had left on the floor. The chanting had stopped. Somehow, that was even more frightening. The curtains that shielded them started to stir. "Run!" Tom grabbed her and pulled her into a closet at the other end of the room. The door slammed shut behind them. It was awfully drafty for a closet, and there was some lighting. "Tom! You idiot!" They were in the stairwell. Naked. The door had locked behind them. "Our clothes," Jan moaned. "My purse. Your wallet. What the fuck are we going to do now?" It was chilly in the stairwell. There was a broken window letting in the late October, by now early November, breeze. She sat down on the landing, shivering, and began to cry. "We could go down, the steps, go out on the street, and get ourselves arrested," Tom said. "They'd probably have a blanket and maybe even some hot coffee." "We'd never make it. This is a hangout for junkies." "It is?" "Claude likes it that way. He tolerates them and they supply him." "Shit." "Pimps too," she added. "Other than Claude?" "Very funny." "Quiet," he hissed. "We've got company." But it was too late. Someone was coming up the steps. They could have retreated, up to the roof, but what was the point? It didn't seem like their situation could get more hopeless. But a very large black guy was coming up the steps so see what the commotion was. He let out a low whistle. "Man oh man. Only in New York!" He climbed up so that his head was even with the landing -- at a level, that is, with their naked butts. Jan pulled her legs up and together, but that didn't really hide much of anything. She was still dripping from both orifices. Tom was in about the same pose, just as uncomfortably aware of how wet his asshole was. "Man! You two look like you've been fucked six ways to Sunday." "We need help," Jan said. "Please?" "Please?" That provoked a bitter laugh. "That don't cut it, girlie. Say, ain't you the perfume bitch?" Jan nodded. "Man, you don't smell like no perfume now." He gave a little sniff. "Jewish pussy. Well, little Jewish pussy, what are you going to trade for my help. And don't say your pussy, cause I don't like little Jewish girls. I like women with some meat on their bones." "Wonder Woman," Tom muttered. "Yeah, Wonder Woman's okay. She's got a hard ass, but otherwise she's all right." "Not the real one." Tom stopped. How could a comic book character be real? "The one in there." He gestured at the door. "Oh no. I saw her going up. That's a little too much meat. So tell me boy, what you got for me?" "My watch?" By some miracle, it was still on his wrist. "What would I want with a fake Rolex?" "It's not a fake," Tom snapped. But now he wasn't sure. "Since we're going to get acquainted, let me introduce myself. My name is Clyde." Clyde unzipped his fly. "And this is Rodney. But I just call him Rod, for short. Get it? Rod?" "Nice to meet you, Rodney," Jan said. Rodney was almost a foot long, and very thick. Jan, even after an hour or so of non stop rape, seemed to be finding Rodney very interesting. "Back off, bitch. I told you, Rodney ain't got a taste for skinny little Jewish girls." That pretty much limited the possibilities. Tom was staring at Rodney now with a mix of fear and anticipation. It was half again as long as Mr. Pinky, and a lot thicker. He turned around to kneel over the top step. The stair treads were hard and cold on his knees. "Yes sir, Rodney's got a hankerin' for little white boys. Never had me one of them. Whaddya think, white boy? Can you take me all the way?" Loose as Tom was, he was still straining to stretch around Rodney's thick bunt tip. It had been a long time since the sphincter muscles had screamed in protest, but they were complaining now. "Easy, boy." Clyde was stroking his back. "Don't tear nothin'. Think about how nice it's going to feel. Oh yeah." Rodney slid in a little over half way, then stopped. Tom could work Mr. Pinky on into his gut, but this was a lot thicker. He gasped as he felt it push its way through the valves. And it kept going. He felt like it was going to be sticking out of his throat. It was, at least, pressing up between his lungs. Clyde pulled himself almost all the way back out, then all the way back in again, then he started to fuck, not as hard as Jan fucked sometimes, but there was so much flesh in motion that it was overwhelming. Tom had been completely drained. He couldn't manage more than tiny little spurts of semen, but those were coming out at each thrust. He was coming harder than he had ever come before, and Clyde just kept going, in a slow, steady, almost gentle rhythm. The two of them seemed to be in no hurry, but Jan was getting really cold. She started to cry again. "What's the matter, little girl? We taking too long for you?" Clyde pulled all the way out. "You want to hurry things up?" He pulled her face to Rodney. Rodney was so thick she could barely get her mouth around it. Rodney was stained with Tom's bowels, perhaps with Tom's blood. But she was desperate. She let Rodney fill her mouth. She opened her throat. Rodney erupted, gagging her. "Oh, man, oh man, you two ever want some action, you just give old Clyde a call." He handed Tom a business card, but of course Tom had no place to put it. "I can hook you into some real," that was accompanied with a sneer at Tom's watch, "money." "You're a pimp?" Jan said. The fact that Rodney was wearing a purple knit coat and leather pants seemed to have made no impression on her. It was, after all, Halloween. "I mean, you're a real pimp?" "As real as they come, baby. What about you?" "What about me?" Jan seemed baffled. "I'm a student. I'm a model." "You're a not quite," Clyde said. "But you got talent, baby. You too, boy. There ain't many can take Mr. Rodney like that and act like they enjoy it." "He wasn't acting," Jan interrupted. "All the better. You want real work, you want to go beyond just semi-pro -- I'm your man. Now, a deal is a deal. You took care of Mr. Rodney. Mr. Clyde is going to take care of you." He went across the landing to the door back into Claude's loft. "It's locked," Tom pointed out. "No problem." Claude took a knife, a switchblade, out of a pocket and pushed the blade through. He was humming something. Tom recognized the tune. "I am, you back door man. I am, you back door man. The men don't know me, but the little girls know who I am." "Miss Evie, she got a real hankerin' for Mr. Rodney." Claude interrupted his humming as the door swung open. "But she don't like me comin' up the front way. Scares off the customers." The stepped into the spider room. It was brightly lit now, and filled with consternation. "Clyde." Claude greeted him with some bewilderment. "I told you, I'll have the rest of the money for you by tomorrow evening ... oh. You've found them. You've brought them back. Thank goodness. The guests were very disappointed ..." The Spider's Web "You just wait a second." The crowd had been surging toward them, but they scattered as Clyde reached into his leather pants and produced a pistol almost as impressive as Rodney. "These two are getting their clothes and their money now." "Money?" "There never was any money," Jan said. "You did this shit for free? Honey, you need a real man to take care of you. Here." Clyde pulled a wad of bills out of another pocket. "Take this. Now, get moving." Jan and Tom made a dash for the bathroom. They grabbed their stuff and fled back to the relative safety of the landing. Clyde did not join them. "Do you think he's okay?" Tom fretted. "Don't worry. He's probably hooked up with Wonder Woman." They waited another five minutes, by Tom's now suspicious watch, and fled out to the street. On the way back on the subway, she cuddled into him as if they were just another couple. He wondered if they would ever talk about it, or just pretend it had never happened. He felt in his pocket where he had put Clyde's card. He should throw it away. He should flush it down the toilet. Jan was sound asleep, snuggling into him. He put the card into the secret compartment in his wallet, where he wouldn't lose it.