The sticky heat in the cavern thickened as the last of the spider-women's laughter faded into breathy moans and hissing chitter. The queen loomed above him, her eight glittering eyes like drops of oil reflecting his helpless form. The web cradled his back in a damp, elastic tension, the threads clinging to his skin like greedy tongues. He could barely move; every shallow breath made the silken bonds tighten and hum with predatory life.

His cock was still hard—obscenely, traitorously hard—veins bulging purple under the glossy coat of mingled juices. The queen lowered herself with languid grace, her huge abdomen swaying like a pendulum of lust. Venom dripped from her fangs, each drop sizzling on the web beneath him with a soft tssss.

"You've filled my daughters," she purred, her voice a deep, echoing thrum that vibrated in his bones. "But the broodmother always takes the final gift."

Her mandibles clicked as her face descended, hot breath fogging against his fevered skin. He tried to speak, tried to protest, but the gag—thick ropes of silk knotted cruelly between his teeth—turned his voice into a wet, choking whimper. Saliva poured down his chin, mixing with the glistening strands that framed his jaw. She dragged the tip of one claw along his chest, slow enough to raise goosebumps, then hooked it under the final strip of silk holding his hips still. With a flick, it snapped, and his cock sprang upward like it was begging for her.

The queen's eyes narrowed, her amusement almost tender. "Still hard… after all that? What a shameless little meal you are." Her tongue—forked and glistening black—slid across her lips before curling around the thick shaft, tasting him from root to tip. His entire body arched as the texture of her tongue rasped against the sensitive underside, slick venom trailing in its wake. It burned—not pain, but molten heat that made his nerves scream for more.

Then she swallowed him whole.

The first pull was brutal. Her throat was a furnace lined with slick muscle, rippling and contracting in rhythmic waves that milked his cock like a living pump. He gagged on his own gag as pleasure detonated through his spine, tears leaking down his temples. His hips jerked but went nowhere—the web clamped down, strings biting into his flesh until he couldn't even twitch.

Schlk-glrk—gllllrp. Each gulp dragged him deeper, her throat bulging obscenely around his length before releasing him with a wet, sucking pop. Strings of venom-spit clung between her lips and his shaft like silver threads. She blew softly on the slick head, her voice curling into his skull: "Not yet. You don't cum until I weave you into me."

She turned, and for a moment he thought she was leaving—until her massive abdomen loomed over his face. The scent hit first: a cloying musk of venom and raw pheromone that made his cock jerk in helpless salute. Her ovipositor slid out with a sinuous, obscene grace, glistening like molten obsidian, dripping thick strings of translucent slime.

"You'll drink," she hissed, lowering it until the tip brushed his lips. He shook his head weakly, whining into the gag, but the queen didn't tolerate refusal. Her claws gripped his skull, and with a single shove, the ovipositor pushed past his lips, gagging him deeper than the silk ever had. Hot, sticky ichor burst across his tongue as the first pump of brood-fluid spilled into him, flooding his throat in choking gushes. He thrashed, tears streaming as he swallowed convulsively, each gulp making the queen shiver with decadent delight.

The venom worked fast. His vision swam in hues of molten amber and black, his body aflame with crawling heat. His cock throbbed like it had a heartbeat of its own, spurting strings of precum without him even touching it. The queen moaned above him, voice breaking into distorted chittering as her abdomen flexed, grinding slime and silk against his face until his nose and cheeks were plastered in glowing fluids.

Then she flipped him.

It happened so fast the web itself screamed, vibrating like the strings of a massive instrument. His body now hung face-down, ass in the air, cock dangling like a ripe fruit. Threads cinched tighter, spreading his legs into a humiliating sprawl. Something slick and hot trailed up his inner thigh, and then the queen's laugh vibrated through the cavern as the tip of her ovipositor pressed against his entrance.

"No… no no no—" he tried, but the gag turned it into a desperate gurgle. The first thrust punched the air from his lungs.

SHLRRK-GLRRK.

The ovipositor drove in inch by inch, stretching him until he thought he'd tear. His scream cracked into strangled sobs as the queen bottomed out with a bone-deep squelch, her entire length pulsing inside him like a monstrous, living spear. Every beat of her heart pumped more venom, more molten heat into his body. His cock erupted, spraying the web in hot white ropes even as his ass clenched helplessly around the invading limb.

"Good little broodtoy," she cooed, voice syrup-sweet and cruel. "Take it all."

The pumping began. Slow at first, then savage—her ovipositor pistoning in wet, slopping thrusts that shook the entire nest. Eggs—or something like them—slid into him with obscene pressure, each one forcing a new guttural scream from his throat. His belly distended slightly, and the sight made the other spider-women shriek in feral delight, clawing themselves to orgasm as they watched him bred like a vessel.

He lost count of the eggs. Lost count of the orgasms ripping through his body like lightning strikes. Cum poured from him in endless spurts, milky rivers threading down his thighs and dripping from the trembling web beneath. His mind shattered into raw sensation—pain, pleasure, venom-high delirium—and still the queen wasn't done.

When she finally pulled out, it was with a sucking shlrkk that left him gaping, fluids and slime gushing down his legs in thick, glowing ropes. He barely had breath to whimper before she spun him again and pressed her dripping sex to his face, grinding until his entire skull was slick with her nectar.

And then came the weaving.

Silk gushed from her spinnerets in shimmering torrents, wrapping him tighter, tighter, until only his swollen cock and glazed eyes were visible. He hung there, twitching, webbed into the nest like a sacrificial idol, his body still jerking with aftershocks as the queen whispered against his ear:

"You're mine now. When I'm done feeding, I'll drink every drop you have left. And when you break…" her fangs grazed his throat, venom pearling at the tips, "…you'll never want to leave."

The darkness came with the taste of silk and the scent of venom. And somewhere, in that writhing, fevered black, his cock twitched for more.

The threads constricted tighter around his limbs until Allen couldn't even twitch a finger. His body throbbed with the aftershocks of venom coursing through his veins, his cock standing in a slick, swollen arc that pulsed like it had its own heartbeat. The air was so thick with musk that breathing felt like drinking sex. Every breath pulled in the heady, aphrodisiac stench of the brood, coating his lungs with something feral and warm. He tried to swallow, but silk clung to his tongue and teeth like a gag made of spit and lust.

A soft laugh rippled through the chamber, and the noise made his skin prickle. Shadows moved in the higher webs, legs clicking, bodies shifting. The brood wasn't done—not by a long shot.

"Still hard?" The voice was a purr dripping venom, deep and sultry, with an edge that could cut. From the shadows, she emerged—taller than the rest, her frame elegant yet monstrous, eight limbs gliding like rivers of black glass. The Spider Queen. Her body gleamed with wet sheen, hips wide enough to birth nightmares, her upper half strikingly beautiful with inky hair flowing like liquid down her back. And those eyes—eight glowing embers that pinned him in place harder than the silk did.

She moved close, her steps soundless, but the vibrations in the web told him she was coming long before she arrived. Each step sent a shiver through his body, every nerve attuned to her presence. She lowered herself until her humanlike face hovered above his, lips curling in a smile too sharp to be kind.

"My daughters say you taste like sin," she whispered, her voice a lullaby and a threat. One claw traced down his chest, slow enough to make his breath hitch, then hooked into the silk cocoon. With a single pull, the threads tightened even more, crushing his ribs until stars danced at the edges of his vision. "And you give so much… seed. Enough to fill a nest."

The brood around them trembled, their excitement vibrating the web like a drumbeat. Click-click-click. The sound of legs tapping in lustful frenzy filled the chamber, and Allen felt the silk writhe as if alive, caressing his skin, stroking his thighs, teasing the base of his cock.

The Queen tilted her head, lowering her mouth to his ear. "You've been generous," she breathed, her hot venom-laced breath making his head swim. "But you're not empty yet, are you?"

He couldn't answer—not with the gag of silk pressing his tongue—but the twitch of his cock was enough. Her laugh rolled through the chamber, and the brood answered with their own, a chorus of carnal hunger.

Then she descended.

Her mouth clamped onto his throat, fangs piercing just enough to make blood bead—not to kill, just to claim. Heat rushed through his veins, boiling his nerves, making every inch of his body burn with raw, helpless need. His hips bucked, a reflex he couldn't control, and that was all the permission she needed.

The Queen shifted her body, lowering herself until her dripping cunt hovered above his cock. The heat radiating from her was unbearable, like pressing against the mouth of a furnace. She grinned down at him, sharp teeth glinting. "Breed my nest, little human," she hissed.

Then she dropped.

Her cunt swallowed him in one brutal thrust, her silk-bound prey skewered on her heat. The scream that ripped from his throat was swallowed by the gag as pain and pleasure detonated in his core. She was impossibly tight, hotter than anything he'd ever known, and the venom made it worse—every nerve screaming, every pulse in his cock a gunshot of pleasure.

She didn't move gently. There was no pretense of softness. Her hips slammed down like a predator devouring prey, each wet slap echoing through the chamber. SHLP! SHLP! SHLP! The sound was obscene, raw, the air filled with the chorus of her daughters moaning and gasping as they circled, some rubbing their swollen cunts on the threads, others lowering themselves to lick the slick juices streaming from their Queen as she impaled him again and again.

Allen thrashed in the cocoon, but it was useless. The more he fought, the tighter it held, the silk alive with cruel intelligence, stroking his nipples, tugging his balls, teasing his cock when the Queen rose up just enough to make him ache. His vision blurred as venom fire spread through his limbs, and then he felt the first wave hit.

He came like a broken dam, thick ropes of seed flooding her cunt, and her answering shriek shook the entire web. Her claws dug into the strands around his head, and she slammed down harder, milking him with rippling muscles that refused to let him go. Cum oozed from the seams, dripping down his thighs, pooling beneath him—and still, she moved.

"More," she growled, her voice cracking with lust. "You'll give it all, until you're dry, until you're nothing."

Another voice chimed in—a daughter, crouched low, licking up the mess between his legs. "Queen, he tastes like venom and heat. Let me drink when you're done."

Laughter, low and cruel, spread among the brood. The Queen's hips didn't stop. She rode him like a beast, cunt sucking greedily, and Allen's body betrayed him, cock twitching back to life even as his muscles screamed. The venom made it possible, forced him into hardness no human should endure. He whimpered, but it only made them laugh harder.

The Queen leaned down again, her lips brushing his ear, her breath sticky-sweet. "When I'm finished, you'll be silk," she whispered. "A pretty, pulsing cocoon, dripping forever for us."

Her words shattered what little resistance he had left. The web tightened, threads stroking him in rhythm with her thrusts, milking him like a living machine. His balls ached, burning as if venom had pooled there, and when the next climax tore through him, it felt like his soul spilled out with his seed.

But she didn't stop.

Hours—or maybe seconds—bled together in the dark. More daughters joined, their mouths and hands claiming every inch of his body the Queen didn't occupy. Lips on his throat, his nipples, his cock when the Queen finally rose to let them feast. They passed him around like a chalice, drinking, milking, riding, until his mind frayed into silk threads and nothing mattered but the heat and the endless, merciless fucking.

When it ended—if it ever ended—he no longer remembered his name.

Only the web, the silk, and the endless hunger of the brood.