The cocoon had sealed him almost entirely now, only his face and throbbing cock jutting out from the glossy strands. His body felt like molten wax, pliant and owned, the venom coursing through his veins until thought itself frayed. His hips jerked weakly, guided only by the primal compulsion the spiders had burned into him, a need to cum and keep cumming for their sake. Their voices buzzed like silk against his skull, soft, high, and layered with hunger, whispering in a chorus: "Ours. Ours. Our stud. Our feeder."

He tried to swallow, but his throat was clogged with the residue of their kisses, sticky venom lacing every muscle with tremors. His tongue lolled as one of them crawled onto his chest, her abdomen pulsing, spinnerets flexing as she wove another band across his ribs, pulling tight until his lungs barely filled. The sound of the silk stretching—skrrch, tkkk, snap—was a cruel rhythm paired with the lewd symphony below. Wet folds slapped against his hips as two of them fought for his cock, both mounted at once, grinding and rutting like feral things, their nails raking his thighs raw. Their fluids splattered thick onto his belly, gluing him in layers of heat, the air so musky it felt like breathing liquid sex.

"Still hard," one purred, fangs grazing his lip as she kissed him again, venom dribbling into his mouth in warm droplets. "Pretty little thing doesn't even need his own will anymore…" Her tongue writhed against his, slick and sharp-edged, cutting tiny nicks that made him moan into her maw. His cock convulsed then, trapped between two soaked pussies clashing in a desperate rut, his seed spurting in sudden, violent ropes that made both females shriek and bite each other's shoulders. Their fight smeared his cum across their chests, pearly strands sticking like glue as they rolled, clawing, only to crawl back to him for more.

"Not enough," hissed another voice by his ear. A new weight settled on his legs. He felt her mandibles click as she leaned low, dragging her drooling cunt across his length, smearing it with nectar and venom. Then she swallowed him whole in one greedy thrust, her abdomen shuddering with every inch she took, the web vibrating with the force of her grinding. His head slammed back into the silk, strands tangling in his hair, pulling until his scalp burned, his body trembling uncontrollably as his cock pulsed inside that molten grip.

Hands—so many hands—were on him now. Clawed, cold, wet fingers spreading his ass, teasing his hole, rubbing sticky venom-laced strands against it until it puckered and burned. A leg curled around his neck, yanking him forward into a mound of swollen flesh, his nose crushed in nectar-slick folds, his mouth gagged by a thrusting, grinding cunt that leaked down his chin. He couldn't breathe—just inhale musk so thick it clung in his lungs, taste venom and honey, hear the high-pitched giggles and guttural moans that tangled in his ears like threads.

The silk gag came again, pulled tight, mashing his tongue flat as one spider-woman spat a wad of her own venom-soaked silk straight into his mouth, her fingers shoving it down until he choked and thrashed. "Swallow for us," she crooned, her voice like a lullaby warped by hunger. "Good little feeder. You'll drink us dry before dawn." He swallowed reflexively, tears streaming as the bitter heat of venom scalded down his throat, and the effect hit instantly—a violent surge of need so brutal it ripped a scream from him, muffled and wet, his cock swelling impossibly hard even after so much had spilled.

They laughed. All of them. A rippling chime of voices, inhuman and sweet, as if praising a pet for performing a trick. The one riding him slammed harder, her hips cracking against his, her fluids drenching his groin until it felt like drowning in syrup. Another crawled behind her, wrapping her arms around her sister and licking the cum off her belly like a starving animal, then kissing her mouth, both of them mewling while their tongues tangled and dripped his seed between them.

"More web," someone ordered, and he felt it spiral tighter, ropes cocooning his ankles, his knees, his wrists pulled high until he hung slightly suspended, a helpless marionette for their lust. They rotated him, spun him like a trophy in their nest, and the next female climbed onto his back, pressing her fangs to his shoulder as she sank down on his cock from behind, riding him reverse, her claws digging trenches in his chest as she bounced. The silk squealed with every thrust, taut strands vibrating like a drum, the whole chamber echoing with slick, obscene music—slap, squelch, suck, crack—a symphony of submission.

He came again, so violently his vision whited, cum erupting in thick, gushing ropes that made the spider moan into his spine, her mandibles scraping as if in ecstasy. His cock stayed iron-hard, twitching, drooling, no relief, no pause. The venom had broken every limit. He was just a cock now—a cock and a tongue for them to ruin.

They took turns. Mounted his face, split themselves on his shaft, rubbed against his chin until it was glazed and dripping, even jerked him between their thighs while another milked his tongue with venomous kisses. His cries were ragged, swallowed in silk, his mind dissolving like sugar in venom as the brood chanted softly, hypnotic: "Ours. Forever. Mate. Feed. Breed."

By the time they eased him down, the nest reeked of sex so thick the air shimmered with it. His body hung in the cocoon, trembling and leaking, hair matted in strings of silk and cum, lips swollen and shining with spit and nectar. His cock jutted out like a monument to their hunger, red and raw, still hard, still twitching. They weren't done. Not even close.

One stroked his cheek tenderly, her eyes glowing in the dark like molten jewels. "You'll make such a pretty brood-pet," she whispered, kissing his eyelids as new silk wound around his waist, binding him tighter. "By the time the sun rises, you won't remember your own name."

The last thing he saw before another sticky strand blinded him was a swollen egg sac lowering toward him, pulsing with life, glistening in the web-light—then the press of it against his belly as they began weaving it to him, sealing him as their living, breathing nest.

And through the venom fog, through the choking perfume of sex and silk, one thought pulsed like a broken drum in his skull: they were never going to let him go.

The last of the pale spider-women slid off him, her dripping folds leaving a glistening smear down his thighs as she retreated, legs trembling from the force of her own climax. The web sagged under his weight now, threads pulling taut across his chest and thighs like hungry restraints. His skin tingled, every nerve screaming from overstimulation, his cock twitching weakly, glazed with layers of silk-slick arousal that clung to him like glue.

He thought—foolishly—that it was over. That they'd finally drained their hunger. But then the shadows stirred. From the dark cavern's heart, a shape loomed, larger than any of the spider-women who had taken him before. Eight legs, each ending in wicked black tips, clicked against stone as she emerged. Her body was massive, swathed in shimmering carapace that caught the low firelight like polished obsidian, but her torso—oh, her torso was obscene beauty given flesh. Pale like moonlight, curves spilling from a corset of organic black plating, breasts like full ripe fruit glistening with a sheen of venom-sweat. Her face was sharper, crueler, too perfect—high cheekbones, eyes glowing like molten gold, and lips that curled into a grin that promised exquisite ruin.

The broodmother.

Allen felt the web tremble as her voice rolled through the cavern like a slow hiss, dripping honey and venom in equal measure.

"You've pleased my daughters." Her words made the smaller spider-women bow their heads in reverence, their bodies still shuddering from spent lust. "You've fed their wombs with your seed… over and over… so much essence for such a fragile thing."

He tried to speak, but the gag—woven so deep now it had become part of him—only let out a muffled, broken whine. Threads sealed his mouth, stretched inside so far his jaw ached. His throat worked uselessly, drool dripping down his chin in glistening ropes as she prowled closer.

Her clawed fingers caressed his face, tracing the sticky lines that held him immobile. "But I smell more in you… more than what they've taken. A river, still dammed." Her breath was heat, her tongue a thin lash that flicked over his tear-streaked cheek, tasting the salt. "And rivers… belong to me."

She lowered herself, her enormous abdomen arching behind her like a living throne of black chitin, while her human half straddled his hips. The web strained, fibers creaking as she pressed down, her weight both crushing and intoxicating. The head of his cock—raw, pulsing, painfully hard despite the agony—slid against something wet, hotter than any before.

The broodmother laughed, low and wicked, as she rubbed herself along his length, drenching him in her nectar. It wasn't clear liquid like the others. No, this was thick and golden, glowing faintly as it dripped in molten ropes down his shaft. Each drop burned—not pain, not exactly, but something worse: a searing pleasure that crawled through his veins like liquid fire, making his heart slam against his ribs.

"Venom of the Queen," she whispered, dragging her nails down his chest. Lines of red welled where they scraped, but the sting only made his cock lurch harder, leaking ropes of milky seed across his belly. She scooped some with her fingers and licked it, humming with obscene delight. "So rich. You'll make strong spawn."

Then, without warning, she sank down.

SQUELCH.

The sound was wet, obscene—like a fist plunging into syrup—as her folds swallowed him whole in one vicious stroke. The web groaned under the violent thrust, Allen's muffled scream tearing through the sticky gag as her inner walls clamped like a living vice, milking him even as she seated herself fully. He could feel her abdomen twitch above, pulses running through her in waves, like the entire hive was inside her cunt, squeezing him from tip to base.

She didn't move at first. Just sat there, impaled, grinding her hips in slow circles that made the veins in his shaft bulge as though they'd burst. Every nerve ending sang in electric agony and bliss. His cock spasmed helplessly, trying to cum, but she squeezed—hard—and nothing came out.

Her grin widened. "Oh no," she purred, nails digging into his ribs until blood beaded beneath her claws. "You don't spill without my blessing."

The venom was in full bloom now. His vision blurred, colors bleeding into each other as heat wracked his body. His balls ached, swollen and heavy like molten lead, his cock jerking uncontrollably inside her prison-tight grip. And still she didn't ride. She let him suffer, whimper, thrash against the unyielding silk as she watched with cruel, glowing eyes.

Finally—slow as death—she lifted her hips.

SLRCH-POP.

A gush of golden slick drooled down his length, trailing in sticky strands between them. Before he could even gasp through the gag, she slammed back down.

THWAP!

His entire body jerked with the impact, web strands vibrating violently as his muffled scream dissolved into gag-choked gurgles. She began to move then—not fast, not yet, but with a rolling, grinding force that made every thrust feel like being pulled into quicksand.

The broodmother fucked like a predator savoring the kill. Each downward slam was a claim, each roll of her hips a brand carved into his soul. His cock bulged inside her like it didn't belong to him anymore. The venom kept pumping through him, turning pain into delirium, exhaustion into hunger.

The smaller spider-women gathered around again, their hands stroking themselves, their voices a chorus of whispers and moans. Some climbed the walls, dangling upside down as they touched their dripping holes, watching their queen claim him. One crawled close and licked the drool from his chin like a kitten lapping cream.

"Look at him…" one hissed. "So broken. So perfect."

"He'll never leave the nest." Another giggled, smearing slick across her breasts. "He's hers now."

The broodmother's pace built to a brutal rhythm.

SLAP. SLAP. SLAP.

Each thrust cracked through the chamber, mixing with Allen's gag-muffled sobs and the sticky chorus of juices squelching. Her abdomen convulsed above, spraying threads of shimmering silk that drifted down, clinging to his hair, his chest, his cock every time she lifted and slammed again.

And then—oh gods—he felt it. The dam breaking. His balls seized, his spine arched so hard the web nearly snapped. He tried to hold it, tried to fight, but the venom stripped his will like skin from bone.

The broodmother leaned close, lips brushing his ear as her voice coiled into his skull like a command:

"Give it to me. All of it."

He came.

It was not a climax—it was annihilation. Seed erupted in endless torrents, so much it felt like his soul was being wrung out through his cock. His vision went white, his scream shredded his throat even behind the gag as she milked him with savage, rippling contractions. Her abdomen jerked, silk spraying in wild ribbons as she moaned—a sound like a temple bell rung underwater, vibrating through his bones.

But she didn't stop. Even as his cum gushed, she rode harder, hips pounding until the sound of wet flesh slapping was deafening. The web shuddered. The cave dripped with heat and musk. And Allen—Allen broke.

His body spasmed, his cock still jerking though it had nothing left to give, and still she used him, wringing every drop, until the golden venom blazing in his blood felt like molten glass. When at last she stilled, seated deep, her folds sucking greedily around his ruined shaft, he could barely breathe. His head lolled, sweat and silk matting his hair, tears streaking his cheeks.

The broodmother purred, licking the salt of his exhaustion from his skin as she whispered:

"Sleep, little breeder. When you wake… the next cycle begins."

Darkness claimed him as the silk rose, weaving tight around his body, cocooning him in sweet, suffocating submission.