The web beneath him wasn't just for comfort anymore. Thin strands clung to his arms first, unnoticed at the start, little sticky threads brushing his skin as they shifted around him. But as another spider-woman rolled her hips down on him, groaning with that glazed look in her eyes, more strands slid across his forearms, across his wrists, weaving tight in seconds. By the time he noticed, they had already anchored him deep into the silken bed. The rider grinned wickedly when she saw him strain against it, her hips grinding slow, making the stretch drag out until his cock throbbed. She leaned down, her voice husky, lips curling as she whispered how good it felt to have him finally trapped — no pulling out, no breaks, no mercy.

And the others, they loved it. A chorus of approving murmurs filled the nest as they moved like a living tide around him, some stroking his chest while others teased his sides with the tips of their fingers. His legs were the next to go. They pulled them apart just enough to tie the webs to the floor, making sure his hips couldn't lift when they bounced. He was their anchor now, their perfect breeding post, and the silk ropes ensured he stayed right where they wanted. Every twitch from him only made the bindings pull tighter, sending little shivers of tension through the glossy threads.

The woman riding him sank down until her abdomen brushed his thighs, the sound of her slick folds swallowing him whole echoing through the chamber. She didn't even let him breathe before she started to move again, sharp, jerking thrusts that made the whole web creak under them. The others cheered her on, some climbing over each other for a better view, others crouching to lick the mess dripping down from the root of his cock. Her swollen lips parted so far around him that every thrust left a glistening ring around his shaft, and she didn't care how raw it felt — in fact, she laughed through clenched teeth and told him she wanted it raw, wanted to feel him tear her open just to remind her later.

When she finally came, the convulsions rolled down her legs so violently the web trembled, and before her spasms even stopped, two others grabbed her under the arms and dragged her off. The next one didn't waste a breath. She dropped low, guiding him into herself with shaking fingers, muttering curses under her breath as the first push spread her wide and made her abdomen jerk. Then she started bouncing like a creature possessed, hips snapping so fast the wet smack of flesh-on-flesh turned into a brutal rhythm that echoed off the stone walls.

Those waiting didn't sit idle. Two of them tangled their spider-legs together, grinding their dripping sexes against each other while they watched him get used like a toy. Another bent over his chest and let her swollen folds drag across his mouth, forcing his lips apart, telling him to drink her until she was empty. Her taste was sharp, musky, and endless — every time he swallowed, another gush filled his mouth. Her hands gripped his hair, her thighs clamped tight against his ears, and all he could hear was the tremble in her voice as she ordered him to keep going, keep drinking, keep worshipping her like the breeding prize he was.

The heat didn't let up. He could feel the constant churn in his cock, every spasm threatening to unload again, and every time it hit, the woman riding him screamed for more, grinding hard to milk every last drop. But the worst part was how they treated his climax like a challenge — the moment they felt him twitch, the moment the gush of seed flooded inside one, another was already scrambling forward, demanding it be her turn, demanding he pump just as much into her. The first one barely had time to pull off before the next slammed down, ignoring the soreness, ignoring the sting of the overstretch just for the chance to feel the heat pour into her womb.

And through it all, the web held him fast. No escape from the brutal rhythm of their hunger, no break from the slick heat that clung to him like a second skin. His body was raw now, his hips jerking helplessly as one more pair of trembling legs locked around him and pulled him deeper. The smell of sex was everywhere — thick, dizzying, coating his throat until even breathing felt filthy. His cock, shining with layers of slick and seed, disappeared again into another dripping hole, and the moan that ripped from her throat sounded like victory.

There was no telling how long it went on. Time blurred into the endless surge of bodies, the silk trembling under their movements, the chorus of guttural voices demanding, praising, cursing, begging. Every part of him ached, but every part of them burned hotter, and they weren't stopping until every last one of them was bloated and satisfied. And even then, the way they looked at him — the gleam in their eyes as they tightened the web more, as they whispered plans about how long they could keep him alive in here — made one thing clear:

He wasn't leaving this nest tonight.

The air was suffocating with heat and musk, a dense fog of sweat and pheromones that clung to his lungs every time he tried to breathe. His body trembled against the web, arms stretched wide and bound so tight the blood throbbed in his wrists. The threads had hardened as the hours dragged on, fusing into rigid cords that dug into his skin like iron shackles. Every pull made them bite deeper, leaving little crescents where his veins swelled against the tension. It didn't matter. He couldn't fight anymore. His strength had bled out long ago, drained into the mouths and wombs of the spider-women swarming around him like starving predators.

They were relentless. The latest one perched on his hips like a queen claiming her throne, her abdomen arching as she ground herself down until his cock vanished inside her, swallowed whole by her dripping heat. She didn't ease him in; she slammed herself down hard, her claws gripping his ribs while her torso curled forward so close he could see every tremor flickering in her abdomen. Her breath hit his face in ragged bursts, heavy with that sweet, venomous scent that clouded his thoughts and kept him painfully hard no matter how much he wanted it to end. When she started to move, it wasn't slow. It was savage, her hips snapping with a rhythm so brutal the silk ropes creaked and shivered with every impact.

He felt himself slide deeper than before, his cock raw, overused, and throbbing as her walls clamped around him like a vice. She tilted her head back and let out a sharp hiss when his tip battered her deepest point, her fingers curling against his chest until the claws pricked skin. She told him not to stop, not to even think about going soft, because if he did, they'd split him open and weave him a new cock just to keep going. The threat wasn't empty; the way her eyes burned down at him told him they meant every word.

Another set of hands grabbed his head, jerking it sideways until his mouth was dragged against slick, fever-hot flesh. A second spider-girl had crawled up beside him, her thighs framing his cheeks as she ground her swollen lips against his mouth. Her juices smeared across his chin as she rocked forward, demanding his tongue, demanding he drink her like nectar. Her voice cracked when he licked, when he sucked, and she rewarded him with another gush that filled his throat and made him choke. She didn't care. She slapped his face lightly when he sputtered, commanding him to swallow it all, every drop, because he belonged to them now.

He tried to turn his head away when his lungs screamed for air, but another pair of hands grabbed his hair, yanking him back into the heat between her legs until the slick taste filled every breath. Her laughter shook against his ears, her abdomen pressing to his temple as she muttered something about training his tongue to never stop. The words faded when the woman on his cock slammed down harder, making his body jolt, making his vision blur white at the edges. His hips bucked without control, his cock twitching as another orgasm tore through him, hot and brutal, flooding her until it spilled out around his shaft in thick rivers.

But there was no mercy. The one on his face came again at the same time, thighs squeezing until his jaw ached, her sharp cry echoing in the chamber as she coated his tongue with another bitter rush. She didn't climb off right away—none of them ever did. She sat there, grinding her overstimulated flesh against his lips, painting him in her mess while the woman impaled on his cock kept milking him with slow, dragging rolls of her hips, wringing out every last spasm until his cock gave nothing but throbs of pain.

They didn't care if it hurt. Pain wasn't an excuse here. The moment his body stopped jerking, another climbed forward to take her place, the strands of web vibrating as they fought for position around him. His cock barely softened before slick fingers grabbed it, smeared it with spit and leftover seed, and shoved it into another quivering hole. The heat swallowed him again, and his body, traitorous and drugged on their venom, hardened enough to keep going. They cheered when they felt him stiffen, voices dripping with hunger, and the next round began before he could even breathe.

Time didn't exist anymore. There were only bodies—writhing, clawing, rutting against him like animals in heat. His chest glistened with sweat and saliva, streaked with claw marks where they'd dug in during climax. His thighs burned from the strain, trembling violently as one spider-woman after another rode him until she broke. Some bit him when they came, teeth sinking into his shoulder or throat, leaving crescents of blood that dripped down into the web. Others simply collapsed across him for a breath before being shoved aside by the next. Their hunger was endless. Every drop he gave them was just fuel for more frenzy.

Eventually, the venom in their kisses started to blur everything. His head lolled back as a new face hovered above him, lips slick and swollen, tongue tasting his mouth before forcing something thicker past his lips. It wasn't her tongue. It was a thread of silk—warm, sticky, tasting faintly sweet—pushed between his teeth by deft fingers. He gagged, but they pinched his nose shut until he swallowed. Another strand followed, then another, filling his mouth with the gluey substance until his throat ached from gulping it down. They said it would keep him strong, keep him hard, keep him theirs for longer. And he believed it, because every time he swallowed, his cock twitched back to life like it had been wired to their will.

The web quivered as two of them suspended themselves above him, hanging by their threads as they dangled low to kiss his chest and stomach, their hair brushing his skin while their hands toyed with his cock and the aching sack beneath it. His body was fire now, burning from the inside out, every nerve singing with pain and heat as another wet heat slid down over him, taking him in again, squeezing, clutching like a fist. He tried to speak, to plead, but the silk gag glued his tongue in place, muffling everything into desperate hums they ignored. His hips jerked, his muscles strained against the bonds, and still they rode him, milking every drop like it was their sacred right.

And as the frenzy deepened, as the nest rocked with the chaos of bodies, one of them whispered in his ear, voice soft and trembling with excitement, that this was only the beginning. They hadn't even started the true breeding yet. This—this was just the feast before the binding. And when the words sank in through the haze, he realized the web wasn't just for holding him. It was shaping around his body, threads tightening over his ribs, his thighs, his throat, forming something harder, thicker, something that would keep him locked even after his strength was dust.

And as the next orgasm tore him apart, spilling seed into yet another swollen belly, he understood the truth: he wasn't a guest anymore. He was a cocoon.