The nest quivered with heat and hunger. The sticky threads binding him pulsed faintly, as though alive, clinging tighter with every twitch of his body. His cock throbbed inside the tight sheath of another spider-woman's dripping sex, and her moans filled the darkness, loud and guttural, echoing off the silk-draped walls. His body wasn't his anymore. It belonged to them—their toy, their prize, their breeding stake.

She slammed down on him, hips snapping with brutal rhythm, making the web tremble as her claws dug into his chest. Her venomous breath licked his ear, sweet and burning, every exhale flooding him with deeper, mind-melting lust. He couldn't think. He couldn't breathe. All he could feel was the slick, suffocating grip of her cunt and the strings tightening around his limbs every time he tried to resist. They wanted him still, spread wide, cock hard, and they'd make sure of it. If he faltered, if he softened, they would fix him with venom and silk until he was nothing but a permanent cock for the hive.

Another voice hissed from above. "Move aside. He's still leaking… I want his mouth." The weight shifted on the web, the sound of limbs scuttling closer, claws rasping against sticky thread. His head was yanked back, and soft, slick folds pressed down over his lips before he could gasp. Her musk hit him like a drug—thick, intoxicating, dripping straight into his lungs as she ground her pussy against his face. Hot nectar smeared his chin, his tongue, forcing him to swallow or drown. She moaned low and deep, a vibration that rolled through her body into his, and then she rocked harder, smothering him completely. His muffled groans only made her wetter, slickness spilling down his cheeks, mixing with his own saliva.

Hands—too many hands—roamed him now. Claws teased his thighs, his stomach, dragging sharp little trails across his skin just to make him shudder. He felt something slide across his ass, sticky and cold, then tug upward until the silk hugged him tight enough to squeeze the breath out of his lungs. Every gasp tasted of her cunt, every breath another dose of venom-laced heat. He was gone—burning, trembling, spurting weakly inside the one still riding his cock, because she hadn't stopped, wouldn't stop, hips hammering with mindless, savage greed.

The one on his face moaned louder, her claws tangling in his hair, grinding down like she wanted to crush his skull between her thighs. Hot, slick cream spilled into his mouth as she came, and her laughter—dark, wicked—rolled over him as she held him there, choking him on her sweetness. His gagged cry vanished under her folds, and the only sound left was the squelch of her cunt milking his tongue and the wet slap-slap of the other's hips pounding down on him.

He came again, didn't even know when. His cock convulsed inside her, spilling thick ropes into her belly, and she purred like a predator in heat, clutching his waist with inhuman strength. She didn't pull off when he was done—she didn't care if he was spent. None of them cared. They wanted every drop, and they'd wring it from him until there was nothing left.

The one on his face finally lifted, leaving him gasping, drool and slick dripping down his chin in obscene strings. He didn't get to breathe long—another mouth, another tongue, another bite against his throat stole it away. Someone licked the tears from his cheeks, tasting his misery like it was honey. Voices murmured all around him, sweet and cruel.

"Still hard… gods, he's shameless."

"Not enough. Not yet. He'll give us more."

"So pretty when he cries… wrap him tighter."

The silk obeyed. It slithered over his chest, his stomach, his cock base, squeezing like a lover, pulsing faintly with every heartbeat. He moaned brokenly, and they laughed, rubbing their slick folds against his bound body, smearing him in their lust. One crouched low, her long, spindly fingers stroking his length until it twitched back to life. His cock ached, red and swollen, dripping nonstop. He didn't even have time to think before another cunt swallowed him whole, wet and greedy, and she sank down with a scream that shook the nest.

The rhythm started again—harder this time. Her hips crashed down with violent force, making the web creak, while two more straddled his face and chest, their pussies grinding into him like he was nothing but a living altar. They didn't stop when he came again. They didn't stop when he whimpered through the silk gag they tied back in his mouth. They didn't stop when his cock spasmed weakly, when his body jerked in overstimulated agony. They kept moving, kept milking, kept taking.

The venom spread deeper, curling through his veins, boiling his blood. His skin felt like fire, his cock like iron, locked hard even when he wanted to collapse. He saw flashes—silk threads glowing faintly, his body cocooned tighter, glistening in the dim light. His arms were gone now, wrapped tight against his sides. His legs too, bound wide and spread so every thrust hit deep, so every spasm painted their wombs with thick, sticky heat.

He wasn't a man anymore. He was a resource. A living cock, a fountain they'd drink dry. The nest quivered with their laughter, their moans, the endless wet chorus of flesh and silk and venom. And as darkness crept in around the edges of his mind, drowning him in heat and terror and savage pleasure, he felt the last thread of his will snap.

And the feast went on.

The nest thrummed like a living heart, every thread vibrating with the rhythm of their frenzy. He was barely conscious now, his breath shallow, his throat raw from muffled cries that dissolved into the sticky silk gagging him. Every inch of his body gleamed with sweat, nectar, and strands of webbing, and still they moved on him, grinding, riding, clawing, drinking from him like starving things. He felt the tug of threads tightening around his limbs, winding over his chest, slipping between his thighs until his cock was framed in glistening cords like an idol to be worshipped. The venom inside him burned hotter, a fever that wouldn't end, making his hips buck even when his mind screamed to stop. He couldn't stop. They wouldn't let him.

Another shape loomed above, pale and dripping, her many eyes glittering in the dim glow of silk lanterns strung across the chamber. Her voice rolled out low, thick with promise. "Still giving," she purred, her claws tracing the lines of his ribs, catching just enough to draw thin beads of blood. The others hissed in laughter, licking the red from her fingers as she slid lower, spreading herself over his twitching cock like molten honey. Her entrance swallowed him with brutal heat, her cry shattering the air as she slammed down until her slick folds kissed the root of him. He choked on his breath, body bowing in the bindings, and she laughed, nails digging into his thighs hard enough to bruise as she started to move—not slow, not gentle, but a vicious rhythm that made the whole web quake like a drumskin under a storm.

The brood was in a frenzy now. Claws clicked, voices layered in a chorus of wet hunger, the slap of flesh to flesh echoing through the silk-wrapped cavern. Two straddled his chest, grinding their dripping pussies along his ribs, painting him in glistening filth, their laughter sharp and breathless as they tugged at his hair, forcing his head up so they could smear their nectar across his mouth. Another hung from a thread above, lowering herself until her cunt hovered over his face, trembling with need before she dropped, sealing his mouth in suffocating heat. Her slick poured over his tongue, down his chin, gagging him until his vision blurred, until the only sound he made was a broken whimper buried in her folds.

They took turns, they overlapped, they devoured him like an altar sacrifice. Every thrust wrung more of him out, every spasm of his cock feeding their madness. He'd cum so many times the air smelled thick with it, strands of pearly slick hanging from his length, smeared across thighs and bellies and silk, but they didn't care. The venom saw to that—keeping him iron-hard, twitching, jerking even when he wanted to collapse. His own body was a traitor now, hips pumping weakly in automatic surrender as they milked him raw. He felt the ropes of web climbing higher, looping around his shoulders, his throat, cinching tighter every time he twitched. Threads crossed his lips, sealing the gag in deeper until he could only breathe through his nose, each inhale drenched in the musk of their dripping lust.

When the one riding his cock screamed, her back arching as she came in violent waves, flooding him with molten heat, another shoved her aside before the last tremor left her body. There was no pause, no mercy—just another greedy cunt swallowing him whole, her hips slamming down so hard his vision sparked white. He couldn't even plead. All that spilled from him were muffled sobs, broken moans that made them laugh and moan harder, clawing at his skin like predators tearing into meat. One bent low, licking the tears from his cheeks, tasting the salt before spitting it back into his mouth with a kiss that was all teeth and venom-sweet tongue.

The silk pulsed. He felt it in his bones now, every thread alive, feeding on the heat, the rhythm, the endless tide of flesh and seed. It crawled over his skin like fingers, whispering promises in every shiver—Stay. Sink. Become ours. His arms were gone, cocooned tight against his sides. His legs spread wide, ankles lashed so firm they burned with every thrust. The cords around his cock thickened, winding with obscene precision, leaving only the slick, swollen head free to vanish into the next wet heat that claimed him. They were making him part of it. A fixture. A tool. A permanent vein pumping life into their nest.

Above the frenzy, a voice coiled through the dark like smoke. Deeper. Older. It made every other sound fall silent for a breath, every claw freeze mid-scratch. The broodmother. Her silhouette swelled in the glow, a titanic shape sliding through the webbed arch, her limbs impossibly long, her body half-shadow, half-lustrous chitin that gleamed like polished onyx. Eyes—dozens of them—lit up in unison, burning amber as her voice rolled over him. "My daughters have been greedy," she purred, and the threads quivered like they feared her wrath. "And yet…" She leaned close, the sharp scent of venom and honey filling his senses as her face hovered inches from his gagged mouth. "…you endure."

A claw traced his jaw, tilting his head, studying the tears streaking down his face, the raw flush of overstimulation in every inch of his body. Her tongue slid out—long, segmented, tasting the salt of his sweat as it curled down his throat. "So much left to give," she whispered, her tone dropping into something primal. "But this… this is wasteful." Her eyes flicked to the brood still shuddering from their feast, then back to him with hunger deeper than theirs could fathom. "He will not just feed us. He will become us."

The web erupted in motion. Threads tightened with a will of their own, dragging him upright, suspending him in midair like a trophy. His cock jutted from its nest of silk, drooling nectar and cum, still hard, still twitching as though desperate for another cunt. The broodmother circled him, her massive form weaving in and out of the glow, her whispers seeping into his skull. "You will never leave this web," she crooned, her claws stroking over the bindings as more silk wrapped his limbs, layer upon layer, until he could barely move a finger. "You will pulse with us. Breed for us. Sing for us."

She pressed against him then, her weight titanic, her body searing with unnatural heat. Her lower half unfolded—jaws of chitin opening to reveal a slick, quivering mass that pulsed like a second heart. It descended over his hips, engulfing his cock in wet heat so all-consuming he thought his spine would snap from the force of it. The broodmother moaned low, a sound that shook the cavern, and the silk responded in kind—tightening, pulsing, milking him in rhythm with her throbbing inner flesh. He screamed behind the gag, his voice swallowed by wet suction and the sound of the web creaking under the weight of their union.

The brood watched, trembling, claws buried in their own dripping cunts as their queen took him—not as a mate, not as prey, but as an extension of herself. The pleasure ripped through him like lightning, melting every nerve until he wasn't sure where he ended and the nest began. The threads writhed. The walls pulsed. His mind cracked like brittle glass under the tide of sensation as the broodmother claimed his final shreds of self with a single, eternal truth whispering through the silk:

You are ours now.

And the nest rejoiced.