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Spider-Man: Web of Women	By : tarminbrandl Category: zMisplaced Stories [ADMIN use only] > Spiderman Views: 22324 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 5
Disclaimer: I do not own Spider-Man, Marvel, or any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Webbed and Bound
- 2-Bugle Beauty
- 1
- 2
It all started, as these things tend to do, with a late-night web-slinging.
Spider-Man had had no way of knowing who the man was when he'd seen him on the construction site, flailing precariously but silently from a girder jutting out from the dizzying heights of an unfinished section of skyscraper. The spider sense had registered nothing outside the normal level of danger posed by a person hanging on for dear life, and he'd swung in to help with his usual blend of speed, wit, and agility.
“Nice night for hanging around, isn't it?” he quipped, planting himself vertically on a support just across from the trapped man. “Though I have to say, this is taking it a little too far!”
The man sighed heavily as the wall crawler threw an arm around his waist and hoisted him, fireman style, over his shoulder. “Very funny,” he grumbled as Spider-Man swung out from the scene with him in tow. It was several moments before the web-slinger landed, rooftop on a nearby building considerably closer to the ground. “Don't quit your day job.”
“Ah, gratitude and good taste,” Spider-Man replied, crouching slightly to set his burden down. “That's how I make it through the week. Mind telling me what you were doing up there? I mean, I hate to tell ya, but Mount Everest is on another continent.”
The man shrugged, and that was when the spider sense elevated ever so slightly. “Difficult week,” he said, backing up a step... toward the roof's edge.
“Hey, what are you doing?” Spider-Man demanded, stepping forward and reaching for him. His spider sense was buzzing more persistently now, but it didn't outweigh his concern for the man who seemed determined to splatter himself on the pavement.
“I'm sorry, fella,” the man replied, jumping backwards off the roof as Spidey's danger sense suddenly rose to a nagging crescendo. Something was going on behind him, he could now tell, but as he thwipped a webline at his descending target, his inertia pulled the wall crawler forward toward the roof's edge, impeding his ability to react to whatever was behind him.
As his internal alarm continued blaring, Spider-Man halted his quarry's descent, then quickly surged a burst of strength through the webline to pull him up through the air. With luck, he could catch the man and move out of the way at the last second. But time seemed to slow interminably as the man flailed in the air, rising slightly above the wall crawler before curving back down. Spider-Man sunk a shoulder under his abdomen, caught him, steadied him onto the roof...
... and that's when something pierced the back of his shoulder.
The effect was immediate. Strength drained out of the wall crawler, and suddenly the man he was rescuing—again—was far too heavy to support. Spider-Man crumpled to his knees, reaching back to pull the offending dart from his shoulder. It was as bad as he'd feared.
“Tranquilizer,” he breathed, still not wanting to believe it.
“Don't worry, webhead,” the man said, steadying the wall crawler. As vision and awareness drained slowly from the Manhattan hero, he could barely hear the man above him, saying, “You'll have awoken to worse than this.”
* * *
A wave of clarity that came back to him with surprising quickness as he gradually stirred. The room he was in was dark, but far from absolutely so; he could see very clearly. He was laid out and bound, arms extended above his head and tied off at the wrists behind a board of some sort. A brief struggle against them yielded no freedom, but he didn't worry about it. His strength would surely be back soon.
The surface he was laying on was quite comfortable, he noticed; it must have been a bed of some sort. He stared placidly up at the ceiling, marveling at the height and the deep browns of the wood finish. The place seemed vaguely familiar, but it wasn't as if he hadn't been inside a lot of different houses in his life. Fighting crime, for better or worse, let to a lot of breaking and entry.
“So, you finally awaken,” an accented voice said, from his right.
Snapping his head in her direction, Peter laid eyes on a foe he dreaded seeing again, on several levels. Calypso Ezili stood next to the bed, at the head, her arms crossed expectantly as she leered vindictively at him. She wore little, which was typical for the Haitian-born voodoo witch, the total sum of her clothing amounting to one or two strips of leopard-print cloth strategically placed to cover the statuesque features on her smooth, dark-skinned body. A flimsy swipe of such cloth covered her front at the waist, leaving her otherwise naked.
“Calypso,” he wanted to say, “so good to see you again! Still got tiger's eyes covering your naughty bits. How's that treating the old self-confidence?”
He wanted to say all of that. Instead, what came out was a toneless, scratchy, “Hhhkkkkk...”
As Peter stopped and wondered why his throat and mouth weren't working, Calypso lowered her face to his, smiling in a way that made him uncomfortable. Her thick mane of hair had been smoothed and straightened, so her customary mass of black dreadlocks was replaced and a long curtain of flowing locks. Something was also different about her eyes. They were typically brown, but had now acquired a yellowish tinge that was distinctly unsettling.
“I never knew you had brown eyes, Spider-Man,” she said, before he could try to talk again.
A clutch of panic gripped Peter's heart as he suddenly realized why his vision had been so clear upon waking. Calypso had taken his mask off while he was unconscious! His jaw dropped as he realized what this meant.
Her smile widened at his fear, and her yellowish-brown eyes seemed to momentarily glitter. “I have long wondered what it would be like, seeing your fear, Spider-Man,” she said, moving to sit on the bed beside him. Peter tried to edge away from her, and found that his feet were tied securely to the corners of the bedposts. “It has been worth the wait. Your fear is rich. Heavy. Delicious.”
Peter snarled, outraged at this, and tried pulling against his bounds again. By now his strength would be back, and he could bust out from his bonds, overpower Calypso, and skip out of here, pretending this had never occurred.
But he didn't go anywhere. He broke no bonds. In fact, he was bound as securely as ever to his prison.
Above him, Calypso looked amused. “Do not bother struggling,” she intoned. “Your strength will not help you here. My darts were designed to suppress your abilities.”
At this point she stood up. “Your super-strength.”
She walked across the room, stopping at a dresser. “Your agility.”
She opened the top drawer of the dresser. “Your reflexes.”
She reached into the drawer, and Peter's heart jumped wildly as she pulled a gleaming machete out. “Your wall crawling abilities and webs.”
She sauntered over to Peter with the weapon, her eyes bright. “Your precious danger sense.”
And Peter realized she was right, as he'd received none of the buzzing intimations of danger from Calypso as she'd approached the dresser, pulled out the machete, and walked towards him with it. This was serious. Calypso was a master of voodoo, able to control and manipulate people's minds, and many of her rituals involved sacrifice...
“Are you still hung up on Kraven?” Peter finally asked, still struggling in vain against his bondage. “Is that what this is still about?”
“Not anymore,” she replied, tracing the tip of the machete down the length of his body, no more than a centimeter above him. “Now, it's just about you and me. And I've got plans for us today...”
Stopping the blade just over the crotch of his costume, she turned and licked her lips suggestively at the wall crawler. “Tell me something, Spider-Man... are you married?”
Peter lifted his head, his brow furrowed and his eyes wide. “What?”
Calypso grabbed the waistband of his bottom tights with her free hand in one smooth motion, pulling the material up and sliding the blade of the machete inside and slicing clean through it. Peter felt a cold fear zip through his entire body as his pants suddenly loosed at the waist, the tights now ruined.
“I wish to know if you are married,” she said, running her free hand over his boxers and rubbing the quickly-building erection that was forming on Peter despite the seriousness of the situation. “That way I'll know if I'm making you commit adultery or not.”
“It's not adultery if you—” Peter started to exclaim, alarmed.
He was abruptly silenced by the tip of the machete, now less than a centimeter from his chin. Moving his head instinctively back from its point, he only allowed his comely captor to push the blade closer in, so that it was quickly positioned lightly against his throat. Feeling the razor sharp weapon against his bare skin was nothing new to him, but he was quickly discomfited by the smile on Calypso's face as she chuckled softly down at him.
“So, you are married!” Calypso crooned, pulling the blade away. She turned and walked back to the dresser, in silence, and Peter knew she was trying to get a reaction out of him with the seductive sway of her firm round ass as she went. It was working, and he shamefully exhaled as his hardening member twitched in response.
Calypso put the machete back in the dresser drawer and closed it, taking her time all the while. When she turned around, she licked her lips hungrily as she moved her gaze downward to his crotch. Peter truly felt like cornered prey as Calypso sauntered back over to him, her smile dark and her eyes glittering.
Standing momentarily over her captive, her smooth, statuesque body suddenly heaving with her heavy breathing, she grabbed Peter's underwear and pulled it down his struggling bound thighs. His cock sprang free eagerly, excited at the prospect of new pussy in spite of—and because of—the wrongness of the situation.
“That's... delicious,” she crooned. “And it is adultery, if you enjoy it.”
She grabbed his now rigid cock and squeezed it tightly. Peter writhed and threw his head back, suddenly overloaded by Calypso's grip with a forbidden pleasure that was so intense it was nearly painful. The moan of pleasure that escaped him was involuntary; he didn't even realize he was doing it until Calypso smiled triumphantly down at him.
“And I'm holding proof that you're enjoying it, Spider-Man!” she said through grit teeth at him. “Admit you like it!”
Peter was about to reply with a negative, but instead writhed again as Calypso bathed his throbbing cock in the sweet slippery sensation of her warm, tight mouth. Looking down at her, all Peter could see was that she was leaned over, her back to him, as her head bobbed up and down over his nether region. Her smooth, long black hair suggested a dark carpet leading to the pleasure palace of Calypso's temple of a body.
“Ooohhhh,” he breathed, unable to believe how good this felt. “Oh, god! Calypso! W-why? W-why are you doing this?”
But Calypso did not reply. She merely re-positioned herself, laying just beside him, and continued fellating him. Peter was too constricted to make any kind of physical move, and at this point he wasn't sure what it would be. He knew this was wrong, and that he shouldn't be enjoying it in the least, but the blistering reality was, being subject to Calypso's dirtily erotic ministrations was physically gratifying enough to send his moral compass spinning. All he could think of was how good her tongue and mouth felt as they massaged his throbbing cock.
“Calypso, why?” he continued to plead, weakly, when he wasn't moaning and quivering in an ecstasy he had no control over. With her warm, fine form side-by-side against him and her long black hair bobbing up and down to remind him visually of what he already knew she was doing to him physically, he constantly had to bite back the urge to say, “God you're good at this! You keep on sucking my cock like it's your job!”
“Delicious,” was all she said for a while, when she occasionally raised her head from his throbbing knob. “Just delicious...”
Peter continued to endure, at length, a constant, leisurely, deliberate blowjob as his amorous, chocolate-hued kidnapper would change her technique. Calypso was good at giving head, he had to admit. Swirls of her strong, probing tongue constantly up and down the length of his shaft would cause them both to moan appreciatively, while the intermittent tightening of her throat against the head of his cock made him thrust, ever so slightly, further up into her mouth. Occasionally she would switch hands gripping the base of his hardness, grasping and massaging his slicked shaft and forcing a noticeable twitch and sharp exhalation from him.
“Does your wife do these things for you, Spider-Man?” she eventually asked. “Tell me, my married adulterer. Does your pretty little wife pleasure you in her mouth like this?”
Peter's head was spinning, at both ends. Before he could reply, Calypso flicked her tongue out and quickly licked up the length of his cock, eliciting an erotic quiver and groan from him. The truth was, MJ was a pretty generous lover, with a libido that sometimes outstripped his own, and she enjoyed a variety of pleasures in the sack. That beautiful redheaded wife of his enjoyed giving him head every so often, and it always felt good when she did it.
But what Calypso was doing to him right now, was far beyond the intensity of anything MJ had done before. The witch was working his rod over repeatedly and constantly, with an energy and a slow, savage enjoyment that was keeping him so hard that the base of his cock throbbed with slight pain. He hadn't come yet, in spite of the considerable pleasure Calypso elicited from him, as if she was keeping him hard for as long as she possibly could.
He tried not to answer her question. “It's not adultery if...” he moaned weakly. “Aaah!”
Calypso squeezed his shaft again, causing Peter to throw his head back and moan. She buried her face in his crotch, swirling his cock tightly with her tongue and sucking it hard, working her mouth and jaws against it. Peter writhed and quivered, unprepared for the sudden onslaught of sexual sensation. When she suddenly pulled her mouth off him with an audible pop, she turned and looked at him reproachfully.
“Answer the question,” she said, menace etched in the dulcet tones of her low, Caribbean accent. “Does your wife give you oral pleasure like this... my married adulterer? Admit you want this!”
Peter couldn't believe this. He was powerless, bound, and subject to the sexual whims of a woman who was giving him awesome head. He had to admit, this was a fantasy he'd secretly had for quite some time, but which could never truly be realized due to his superhuman abilities. Whether she knew it or not, Calypso was fulfilling that fantasy in a very real way.
He did want this!
She squeezed his cock in her hand again, and Peter writhed. “Yes!” he breathed, ashamed of himself for saying it out loud, but overwhelmed by the realization of Calypso's control over him. “Yes, I want this, Calypso! My wife does occasionally give me... oral sex... but nothing like this!”
Calypso's glare split into a triumphant, erotic smirk, and she lifted herself to sit up next to him on the bed again. “Tell me your name,” she said. “I would know the real name of my next sexual slave, Spider-Man.”
Even in his erotic stupor, Peter still did a double take, then shook his head. “No way, Calypso,” he said, defiant even in his bonds. “You're not getting that information from me, no matter how, er... hard, you try. I'm nobody's slave.”
Calypso's smile only widened, as she stood up from the bed. “Do you really believe that, my new lover?” she asked. In one smooth motion, she slipped the waist cloth off of her form, leaving a sight that made Peter suddenly both very bashful and even hornier. It also alarmed him with the implications of what was about to happen, but his cock only jumped and twitched in excitement. Calypso's cunt was unshaved but swollen and obviously ready for action, and Peter couldn't help but suddenly wonder what it might taste like. It was only fair. She'd tasted him, after all...
“You've already admitted you want me to pleasure you,” she went on, hopping onto the bed and straddling his waist. Just the idea that her pussy was mere inches from his yearning cock was enough to make Peter try to vainly thrust in its direction. “Now, give me your name. Give me that power over you, and I will make you my newest lover.”
Peter wanted to resist, but it was too much. He wanted her too badly, and the longer she held out over him, the weaker he became. “Calypso, please,” he begged, but she only maintained her position over him, winking, her smile wide as ever. “I can't!” he whined, making another futile attempt to find her cunt with his cock. “Oh, god. Don't make me...”
“Yes...” Calypso soothed, sensing victory, slowly edging her drooling pussy closer to her captive's cock. “Who are you?”
It was the mere touch of her warm wetness to the tip of his cock that broke Peter's will. Its promise of physical pleasure and erotic gratification was just too much, and he had to relent.
“Peter,” he grunted, again ashamed of his weakness. “My real name is Peter Benjamin Parker.”
And Calypso immediately came down on him, slamming her cunt down on Peter's rod, jolting his imprisoned body with a shot of steamy pleasure, and making her new lover instantly forget what he'd just done. Grinding herself hard against the full length of his rock-solid cock, she held herself down against him, looking down at him and locking eyes with her new sex slave.
“Good,” she whispered, drawing the word out luxuriously over a sea of moments as she drank in Peter's widened brown eyes. “I am glad you told me the truth, Peter Benjamin Parker.
“Mary Jane wouldn't like knowing her cheating husband is a liar.”
As Peter's eyes widened in horror, Calypso clenched, squeezing the hardened base of his captive cock with the velvety insides of her hot, wet pussy. Throwing his head back and gasping at the dual sensations of terror and physical ecstasy, the slave thrust up into her with what little mobility he had. It felt good; he was thick, and long, and filled her yearning cunt amply with his captive desperation, and Calypso slowly began pumping herself up and down against it, relishing the idea that she was fucking her helpless arch-enemy.
“She is a beautiful woman, Mary Jane is,” she crooned, reaching her fingers underneath the spandex of his top and raking her fingernails slowly down his sides, causing Peter to quiver uncontrollably beneath her. “I can see why you married her, Peter... with her long red hair, and her perfect figure. I bet she rocks your cock every night, just like this, doesn't she? Doesn't she?! Tell me while I fuck you!”
“W-why are you doing this?” Peter begged, even as he pistoned his cock back and forth up into Calypso's expectant cunt. “And why—ah!—did you make me tell you my name, if—oh!—you already knew... who I was?”
Calypso smiled down on him with a sinister smirk. “I needed your obedience, my delicious slave,” she murmured, pumping herself against him slowly and rhythmically. “And what better way to test it than by seeing if you were telling me the truth about your precious secret identity? Now I know you're mine!”
“But how did you—?!”
He was silenced by a finger pressed firmly over his lips, Calypso's mouth a silent shush above him. “I'll be the one asking the questions now, my adulterous married Spider-Man,” she said. “Now, tell me... did Mary Jane pleasure you extra good before she left for Los Angeles two days ago?”
Another jolt went through Peter's body, but he couldn't tell if it was from the shock of Calypso knowing his wife's flight schedule, or the sensations of her continued fucking of his bound body. He could feel his eyes widening as she posed the question, and now they drank in the sight of her smooth brown hands as they pressed against the lion's-eyes cloth covering her breasts. She cupped them tightly, pulling them down the length of the fabric, causing the material to hug her curves and press against her nipples, giving him an idea of what they looked like that left little to the imagination.
“Yes,” Peter breathed up at her, mesmerized by the display. “Yes, we... ah... had sex... before she left.”
“Tell me what you did, Peter Benjamin Parker.”
She clenched her insides against him, forcing a surprised thrust from her captive. Peter couldn't believe how good Calypso felt, and the lingering sight of her hands' grip on her breasts only served to quicken his breathing further. He exhaled, pushed as far up into her as he can, and luxuriated in the feel of her wet warmth as he slowly pulled back from her heavenly cunt. She was going to get everything she wanted from him, he realized, with her dirty mind, hot little body, and nasty sexual techniques.
“I came home from a night on patrol,” he said, smiling at the image as Calypso continued to silently churn on him. “MJ was waiting for me when I got there, and flipped on the light after I was in the bedroom.”
Calypso loosened the material covering her breasts, smiling down on her new lover as she held them flimsily to her chest. “And what was she wearing?”
Peter hesitated, his eyes widening in anticipation of seeing Calypso's boobs. She clenched again, inducing Peter to thrust his rod up into her, and then dropped her top, exposing all of her naked glory to the captive wall crawler she was force-fucking.
“Oh, fuck!” Peter breathed involuntarily, even more turned on. Calypso's rack wasn't particularly large—B-cups, nowhere near the size of Mary Jane's splendors—but her tits were round, and oh-so-pert in their coffee-toned smoothness. Where her skin was primarily milk-chocolate, her penny-sized areolae were stark dark chocolate and capped a pair of nipples which revealed that Peter wasn't the only one turned on by the situation at hand. They were just big enough to jiggle slightly in the throes of her passion, and Peter couldn't take his eyes off of them.
“She was wearing skimpy lingerie,” Peter continued after a moment, remembering why Calypso was staring at him so expectantly. “Ready for play-time, you know.”
“Oh, I know, Spider-Man,” Calypso crooned softly, continuing to slowly pogo against him from above. “I'm learning all about play-time with you. And I really like it. Do you like it?”
“Oh god yes, Calypso...”
“Do you like seeing my naked body while I fuck you with my nasty pussy, Peter Benjamin Parker?” she continued, her volume rising as she began fucking him harder and faster while she bored into him with her yellow-tinted eyes. “Do you like being my sex slave as I make you cheat on your wife? Do you like being a bad boy while I fuck your throbbing cock? Answer me!”
Peter had already been answering, with a flurry of bodily quivers, moans, and declarations of, “Oh, yes!”, “God yes baby!”, “Oh, god, Calypso!”, and similar such phrases. But as Calypso impaled herself so sweetly against him, her final command cut through everything. Peter moaned beneath her, wanting desperately to please her as she mercilessly continued throttling his captive cock.
“I love it!” he exclaimed, between heavy breaths. “I fucking love the way you milk my cock like it's your job!”
“It is,” Calypso responded immediately, ceasing her up and down motions and placing her hands on his chest. She leaned forward on her arms and grinded her nether section in a circular-sideways motion that made Peter even harder inside her. “It's my fucking job to milk your sex and blow your fucking mind, Peter! What do you think of that?”
Peter could feel it happening, and he rolled his eyes back into his head as the wall of cum started to build up deep in his balls. “Oh, god...” he moaned, continuing to fuck his sinister seductress as well as he could. He was about to reach the point of no return, in so many ways, and he was finally, sexually, resigned to it, and whatever consequences it would bring...
But Calypso seemed to sense it, and had other plans. “Not so fast, my arachnid slave,” she crooned, pulling her hot cunt quickly up off of him, despite his surprised protests.
“No!” he whined. “Why? Oh baby! Please don't stop now!”
But Calypso merely pressed a finger against his mouth again, shushing him gently. “All in good time, my spider,” she said, sliding her hips further up Peter's body to straddle his stomach. “We haven't finished our little talk about you and your horny housewife. Describe the play-clothes she was wearing for you. What color were they?”
Peter hesitated, distracted by the angry twitching of his cock and the captivating sight of Calypso above him. She had a beautiful body, and was not shy about running her hands over her breasts, lips, and Peter's chest as he tried to answer her questions. His distraction seemed to amuse her, and she would smile and leer hungrily down at him whenever he twitched or groaned at her, further complicating his efforts.
“MJ's lingerie was red,” Peter breathed, slowly remembering the encounter. “Just like her hair. A perfect match. What little of it there was...”
“Mmm-hmm,” Calypso moaned, tracing a finger down her neck down to her chest. “What did she do when she saw you?”
“She kissed me...” Peter started, then cut off, his jaw dropping slightly as both of Calypso's hands cupped her breasts and pushed them together. “Oh, wow! Err, she kissed me... and we felt each other up for a while.”
“Who was disrobed first?” Calypso asked, massaging her chest to Peter's delight.
“MJ lost her bra first,” Peter replied, his exposed cock throbbing at the memory as much as Calypso's display. “I like her breasts; they're so big, and soft. I got them exposed, then worked them over with my mouth until she was overwhelmed with lust.”
Calypso moaned, squeezing her nipples erotically. She could feel her own juices gathering and marinating her insides even further as she imagined Peter's mouth on her own breasts. She briefly considered smothering his face with her chest, but quickly nixed the idea. The slave was hers, but she needed a little more time to convince him of it.
Then she could do whatever she wanted with him... and to him.
“What did she do then, Peter? Tell me what happened next!”
Peter winced slightly at the order, but continued to gape at Calypso's writhing, hot body as he talked. “She got down on her knees,” he breathed, groaning in surprise as he felt Calypso reach back and squeeze his starving cock with one hand. “Pulled my tights down... and... ah! Ah, god, Calypso!!”
“She went down on you,” Calypso breathed, her chest heaving as her other hand found the opening between her legs. “She leaned you against the wall and took you into her eager mouth... didn't she, slave?”
“Yes,” Peter murmured, entranced by Calypso's manual ministrations on both herself and upon him.
Calypso grinned down at him, starting to thrust her hips against her hand as she continued to stroke. “Then, when you were hard enough, she pushed you onto the bed. Didn't she?”
“Yes.”
“You rolled her over, and did it with you on top.”
A brief hesitation. “Yes...”
“After a while, you went down on her, then finished with you on top. You fell asleep shortly afterward. You woke up and she had left for the airport.”
“How do you...?”
Calypso merely smiled down on him, her breath quickening as her hand swiftly stroked up and down against her nether regions. He could see her juices dripping onto his abdomen from her, and it made his cock twitch even more. After a moment, she looked down at the same spot, then shook her head slightly.
“I need relief,” she breathed, taking his face in both her hands. “And I don't want to listen to the pointless questions of my sex slave.”
She rose up enough to turn around, her tight round ass wiggling in his face. Looking back at him, Calypso smirked. “I think I have the perfect solution.”
Peter's heart thumped hard and fast in his chest as she slid her hips backward, up his stomach, past his chest, until her drooling pussy was just short of his mouth. He could smell the denseness of her musk, feel the steam of her deviant eagerness. He felt rather than saw her grab the base of his cock as she leaned forward to resume the blowjob she'd started earlier.
But she didn't. Not immediately. Instead she spoke.
“You'll put your mouth to better use by pleasuring me,” she crooned, squeezing his pole hard in her hand. “And, just in case you're thinkin' about being... unpleasant... to me, just remember the position you're in, slave.”
And, to emphasize her threat, Calypso took Peter into her mouth, fellating him pleasurably as she took him in, but causing him to cry out as she lightly scraped her teeth against the length of his rod on the way back up. She propped herself up and looked back at him, her smirk savagely sweet.
“Be nice to me, and I'll be very nice to you,” she said, then turned herself back towards his crotch.
And as she devoured his penis once again, Peter could only moan as he was overtaken by the situation. His nostrils flared as her intoxicating scent invaded them; his mouth opened to meet the slippery lips of her swollen nethers as they settled against his face; and his cock was twitching and pulsating as Calypso worked her sweet magic on him below. He was soon thrusting—again—into her heavenly mouth as she took him all the way in and proceeded to set his world spinning.
“Mrmmm...” was all he was able to groan for some time, as Calypso was very insistent upon his eating her out until she came. He reluctantly complied at first, but didn't last long against the double pleasure of her fellatio and her moans and writhes of delight. She also tasted good—similar to MJ, but with a heavier, more steamy musk that reminded him of the jungles of the Caribbean islands.
He was eagerly lapping at her insides within a minute.
Calypso, for her part, took her time with Spider-Man's captive cock. She knew he was close to coming, and wanted to tease and torment him for as long as possible before he could make her orgasm with his mouth. When that happened—and it wouldn't be long, she knew—she was going to lick, suck, slurp, and orally piston his cock at breakneck speed to make him climax. In the mean time however, she enjoyed being able to slowly caress her tongue up and down his shaft, tease his tip with her throat, and work the rock-solid base of his long shaft with her hand.
It also allowed her to enjoy the slave's efforts at cunnilingus. He was unable to resist her this way, and she occasionally twitched and moaned her pleasure as he ran his tongue and lips all over her excited nether walls. He knew where the clit was, certainly—she sometimes would shift it away from his mouth, wanting him to stimulate and taste other parts of her cunt before taking her to the climax part of the encounter.
“Not yet, hero,” she murmured. “Run that nice slave tongue of yours over other parts of my pussy.”
Peter groaned incoherently and complied, unable to help himself. Besides being unable to make all but the slightest physical moves, he had to admit that Calypso tasted exquisite in his mouth. Her tangy juices trickled steadily all over his eager tongue and the rest of his face, lubricating the warm slippery walls of her succulent pussy. Flattening out his tongue as wide as he could make it, he slowly lapped the entire length of her cunt, from the relative front and center of her clit all the way to the other side of her labia.
“Yes...” Calypso breathed, her alto voice full of delight as he combed the entirety of her honey pot. “Oh, that's very good, my talented tongue-man. Aah! Hmm!! You certainly are eager for someone who didn't want to cheat on his wife, aren't you? Mmmm!! Aah, yes!! You like the way I taste in your mouth, don't you, Parker?!”
“Mmmm-hmmm!!” Peter groaned from under her, unable to stop himself. She was luscious, and sweet, and so very juicy...
“I like the way you taste in my mouth,” she said, not listening to him. “Oh! Yes, you have a very tasty cock, Spider-Man. Now, let me taste your fluid, slave! Shoot your cum into my mouth right now!!”
She took him into her mouth again, and its sweet moist warmth coupled with Calypso's intense sucking and breakneck pogo-ing to make Peter groan involuntarily. The dirty awesomeness of her last command shot through his entire body, and he could again feel himself building to the point of no return. The pressure building at the base of his cock felt even more intense this time around, and he attacked her clit with his tongue, wanting to bring her off at the same time he came for her.
“Mmmm-hmmm!!” Calypso groaned, twitching and writhing in approval as she swirled her tongue tightly over Spider-Man's erect shaft. He was good, much to her unexpected delight. She would make the slave come, she would consume his essence, and thereby consummate her dominance over him. He would be irrevocably hers, in body and mind at least.
Mary Jane could have his heart. It wouldn't do either of them any good. Calypso didn't need it to fuck him several more times, like she now planned to do before MJ returned.
Determined to conquer him, she relaxed her gag reflex and impaled her head even further on his cock. He was thick, and meaty, and smooth, and filled her throat completely as she bobbed her head up and down to face-fuck him.
“HAAH!!” Peter exclaimed, throwing his head back and temporarily stopping his own efforts at working over Calypso's drooling nethers. He hadn't been deep-throated since Felicia, but he the sensations were burned into his memory, and the insertion of his cock into the depths of Calypso's tight throat sent a shock of elation through him that nearly blew his mind. He abandoned his efforts on Calypso's clit, thrusting as much as he could as he felt the wave of cum racing him to ecstasy.
Calypso, sensing how quickly he would blow his load, pulled back after just a few thrusts to let the slave's cum shoot into her mouth and onto her tongue. She would taste him, all of him.
And taste him she did. Amid a quickly increasing rush of groaning and writhing, Peter erupted, long and forcefully, riding a wave of pleasure that was more intense than anything he had experienced in recent memory. Calypso, his seductress and captor, moaned encouragingly as he reached a crescendo, tasting and catching as much of the almond-salt-flavored fluid as she could coax from his captive cock. As she swallowed the first dollop, she delighted in the slave's continuing eruption of cum. Smiling inwardly, she lapped up more of his thick juice and teased his cock with her tongue.
It was over a full minute before Calypso, satisfied she'd gotten all she was going to get, lifted her head from her captive enemy's twitching rod. With a cocky smirk, she sat up and moved herself off of his face. She wanted to hear the praises he would be singing to her.
“Oh... my... GOD that was unbelievable,” he said between deep, quick breaths. “It was wrong, and it shouldn't have happened, but... wow, did it feel good...”
Calypso turned around, setting herself next to the slave's bound, thinly-muscled body. He was a good-looking man, with his toned build and wavy brown hair, and he was smiling exhaustedly up at her. Her smirk spread slightly as she caught him staring at her bare chest.
“It feels good because it's so wrong,” she said, draping herself over his body to lay on top of him. “And it's only going to get better for you...”
She pressed her face down to his, her tongue parting his lips as she planted her victory on him. Peter inhaled, surprised, but hesitated for only the tracest amount of time before returning it with a low moan. Their lips and tongues worked quickly up to a frenzied heat, and it wasn't long before Peter felt a familiar stirring down in his loins. Calypso was going to fuck him again!
“You see, slave,” she murmured, her hands working the restraints binding his wrists to the headboard, “I'm going to demonstrate just how much power I have over you, and how desperate you'll be to keep it that way.”
And with a sudden release of tension, Peter's hands fell free of their bonds. Moments later, they were pressed against his enemy's firm round ass and soft warm tits as they continued to make out.
“No...” Peter breathed, unable to stop himself from feeling up his curvaceous captor's statuesque smoothness. “This is wrong... I shouldn't...”
“You are.” Calypso's voice was soft in his ear, but it hit him with the force of a hammer. “And you're mine. Do you now understand, slave?”
Peter nodded, unable to understand or believe it. He couldn't tell if it was some form of hypnosis, or a part of her voodoo abilities, or what, but somehow, by successfully seducing him, Calypso had apparently conditioned him to obey her commands and desires by simply feeling pleasure—lots of pleasure—in them. Her voice was suddenly the most powerful, mellifluous joy to his ears, and he would do anything to please its owner. It was the ultimate form of obedience inducement.
“Good,” she crooned, sitting up and curling her knees up under her chin by him. “Now, sit up and undo the restraints on your waist and ankles. I have more pleasures to bestow upon you, that involve you being... less constricted.”
Peter's heart skipped a beat as he bolted upright and began working at the restraints. She would reward him soon, with that gorgeous little body of hers, if he could just get free. He could feel his mistress's eyes on him as he quickly unbound himself. He couldn't wait to feel her touch again.
He looked at her when he was done, and she reclined on the bed, raising her eyebrows at him as she propped herself back on her elbows. “Get that accursed costume off your body,” she said.
In a flash Spider-Man was up off the bed, internally lashing himself as he willingly and eagerly stripped naked for a woman that wasn't MJ. Even so, he simultaneously ogled the site of Calypso's body, of her smooth brown skin and her round, pert tits. They weren't as grand as MJ's, but they would definitely do enough to get him even hornier for Calypso.
“Are you ready to fuck me?” Calypso asked, her eyes glittering yellow again.
“Yes, mistress,” Peter replied, nodding vigorously. “I'll do anything you want me to. Everything you want me to.”
“Then light that candle over on the nightstand.”
Peter looked across the room, by the dresser, and saw a small candle, mounted in front of and just below a statue sharing a base. The statue was of primitive design, but was clearly of a woman with large breasts and wide hips. Probably a fertility statue of some sort. He didn't care. Calypso wanted it lit, and he would do that. Hell, he'd swallow the candle to fuck that Haitian sex goddess. He quickly grabbed the lighter next to the base and lit the candle. The flame flickered to life, and Peter blithely felt an elevation in his breathing, almost as if he were taking in more than just air, as he turned around to face his mistress.
When he turned back to the bed, his heart nearly jumped into his throat.
Calypso was smiling victoriously at him, her eyes still aglitter. But the smile came from her as she leaned over the bed, ass propped high up in the air towards him. She had propped herself up and looked back at him, inviting him to enslave himself further to her dominance.
“Now, get over here, Peter Benjamin Parker, and bury yourself deep and fully into the forbidden pleasures of my steaming cunt. I want you to fuck me from behind with that big, hard, adulterous cock of yours! Right now!”
And, unable and unwilling to resist, Peter the sex slave sauntered towards Calypso's firm, round ass, his rock-solid cock twitching in anticipation of giving his mistress every pleasure he could afford her.
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Spider-Man: Web of Women