DISCLAIMER: ALL CHARACTERS HEREIN ARE OVER THE AGE OF 18. I do not condone any abuse of any kind IRL, and everything herein is just fantasy. Do not attempt to re-enact anything you read here.
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CHAPTER 3
Face forced into her chest now, and not just gravity pulling their pendulous weight down over him, he struggled for breath as he felt her hands dance over his slight, naked form. He squealed in ticklish agony as fingertips traced over the globes of his ass, up his lower spine, the backs of his knees, under his arms, and more. Her hands were a blur, and seemed to know exactly where he was ticklish. Although, with that venom now coating his entire body, much thanks to her hands lathering it across him, everywhere was ticklish -- and where had been ticklish before was now enough to make him see stars as she tickled and teased his overly-sensitive skin.
Suddenly, she flipped him around, and he looked down to see he was already half cocooned. His mouth was covered before he could let out another scream, his fitful giggles reduced to a muted, muffled groan as she hummed while she worked. Slowly, she rotated him again, and kissed him on the nose. His eyes were covered on the next pass, and now, blinded, he felt the webs get thicker, and thicker, as her venom soaked in more, and more. His heart raced as he felt the claustrophobia settle in. And his cock was, quite frankly, throbbing harder than it ever had in its silken prison.
Suddenly he felt himself held aloft, and they were moving again. He tried to turn his head, but couldn't see a thing, and he could barely move a millimetre in the thick cocoon. Rick groaned, trying to voice his concerns at all, but merely felt a slight pat on his head in response.
"Nearly there now," she added, reassuringly, petting his cocooned head as if it were a tiny creature... which in her hands Rick supposed he was.
Suddenly, they stopped. With a gut wrenching flip, he felt himself hanging upright, and tried his best to move. The cocoon rocked ever so slightly, barely perceptible, and the woman barely even seemed to notice. That didn't bode well.
"Now, my dear, nothing else to distract us... let's get to really know each other," she said soothingly, and he felt her hands slowly moving up and down his mummified form.
His arms were stretched up above him, as if hanging on to something, but the constriction around his wrists, just tight enough to be comfortable, was what truly kept him prostrated. Rick could immediately tell she knew exactly what she was doing, and a doomed feeling of certainty began to sink in. He gasped, however, as he felt the webs parting, and wondered if he might actually be allowed to go free. That hope was dashed, however, when he heard her breathy giggles as she merely began to allow strategic parts of his body be exposed.
Starting from the top, she exposed his neck and traced a finger down from his chin, his armpits and sides, and waistline too. His inner thighs were exposed and held parted just enough to allow her to reach between them, and his feet. Rick's ass felt the cool air against it, and he writhed in nervous anticipation... and a non-negligible dose of libidinous desire. At this point his sex drive was truly in overdrive.
"Now sweetie, time for the important part..." she cooed, and with a delicate finger, freed his trapped cock, and let his balls lie loose on the gossamer material, before creating a webbed pouch for them to rest in, which left them soaking in a steadily growing pool of venom.
"So pretty..." she cooed, and realized she was speaking directly to his cock as her breath tickled across it.
He panicked once more when he realized just how much even her breath tickled, and was terrified to wonder how sensitive he had become while trapped in this cocoon. How long had he been here? It couldn't have been more than ten minutes, and his sanity was already straining. How long was he going to be trapped here? And how badly would it tickle if he was kept here longer?
Rick didn't have to wait long to find out. Her tongue began to bathe his cock, and he shrieked into his webbed gag, nose flaring as he hyperventilated from just that teasing touch alone.
"If you thought the venom on my webs was strong... wait until you feel my mouth sweetie..." she whispered, and sunk his cock between her lips, until it was hilted in her hot, wet mouth.
As her tongue lavished it with caring caresses, he felt tiny pinpricks of tingling immediately, which only grew stronger the longer his cock was kept captive in her mouth. He felt, rather than heard, her giggles vibrate through his rock-stiff cock, trapped and at the mercy of her slathering attentions, as she began to recognize the signs of his own recognition of the danger.
Rick began straining with all his might to free himself, but merely succeeded in setting his cocoon swinging slightly back a forth, unwittingly plunging his cock ever so slightly into and out of her mouth in tiny swinging motions. Delightedly, she gave his cocoon a tiny push, and let his cock slip slightly from between her imprisoning lips, before lavishing it with a tongue-bath each time it was forced back between them by his momentum.
Groaning with unadulterated lust, his worries were soon overridden by the absolute primal need to cum. He could feel as his cock slipped in and out of her mouth as, little by little, he grew closer and closer to what was undoubtedly going to be the best orgasm of his life. For now, at least, he gave up on any pretense of wanting to escape. Right now, blind to all other senses, unable to see or hear or even think straight... all he wanted was to cum.
Just as he began to feel heat rising from his cock, and felt the tickling, itchy urge to cum rising in his cock, he felt rather than heard her laughter around his cock.
Her four hands each found a delicate spot, exposed from his cocoon, and got to work driving him insane. Her fingers scurried and toyed with expertise that was unnatural, and could only be the product of many lifetimes of tickling torture practice. She tickled along the underside of his foot, held taut by the webs expertly. She traced delicately up and down his thighs, spidering around his knees. She curled her fingers under his arms as if tickling the chin of a kitten, and traced around and under his neck, as if wanting to feel the vibrations of his all-but-silent laughter.
Suddenly his singular focus on cumming was disrupted, unable to focus, he felt his orgasm wilt under her merciless ticklish touch. Even as her tongue lapped under his cockhead, or ran in circles wildly around the rim of his cock, he found that no matter what he did, he could not bring himself to orgasm. Rick was totally at her mercy... and it was clear she had none.
"Oh your poor little thing... were you close? Did the mean spider lady do something to stop you cumming? Oh my... poor thing..." she cooed in mocking motherly tones, and let her lips tease at the tip of his cock as she spoke, not letting up even for a second with the physical torture, even when taking time to tease him verbally.
His animalistic screams were now audible, even through layers of sickly sweet smelling webs. As if trying to speak through his nose, he whined and grunted, desperate to put his agony into words, but denied even the opportunity to beg her for the mercy he was now sure she had no intentions of providing.