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Ultimate Tangled Web	By : superbang Category: zMisplaced Stories [ADMIN use only] > Spiderman Views: 15581 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Spiderman, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 10
- 11
- 12
Warning:

This story is for adults only! The story has strong sexual and violent content as well as offensive language. If this is something that you feel uncomfortable with or if not old enough according to the law, the author would suggest that you read no further.

Disclaimer:
All of the characters in this story are the property of Marvel Comics. The author makes no claim of ownership on these characters. It is a parody. Written for entertainment and not profit. If you wish to make money off of Marvel, buy stock. I did.

Feedback is always welcome at superbangjason@yahoo.com

For more quality fanfic go to http://groups.yahoo.com/group/NaughtyMarvelFiction/

Ultimate Tangled Web

Chapter 11
The teenage girl was dirty and thin. Her face was smudged. Her clothes neither matched nor fit. Her long blonde hair was mostly kept under a wool skullcap and what did hang out was a tangled mess. Her mouth hung open a little. She frowned, a look that seemed alien on her sweet face.
Her eyes went wide as the limousine pulled up to the curb, and like magic, the door opened.
"It doesn�t have to be like this Gwen," a cultured woman�s voice spoke from the limo�s interior, "there is no need to be scared, to starve or hide from every patrol car rolling down the street."
Gwen�s big blue eyes looked back and forth down the empty street. It was 4am. It was winter. And a squad car at this moment would be a very welcome sight. She�d rather get arrested for prostitution (what else would a cop think about a young girl looking like herself at a limo door), she�d rather get arrested than ask the question that nagged at her mind. "How do you know my name?"
"I�m a very well connected woman. I can make sure you�re not hunted or experimented on anymore." An elegant hand extended from inside the stretch limousine. "You�re a very special young woman, Gwen, and I run a school for special people like you. I can help you control what�s inside you."
Gwen stared at the hand. The skin was soft and white. The fingers where long and gentle. The palm was turned upward and open to her, inviting the cold and starving girl inside.
"I�m not asking for anything more than you�re willing to give."
Gwen tried to stop herself from reaching out. "Who are you?"
"My name is Emma," the beautiful and well-dressed woman said as she helped the girl inside. "And you don�t have to be afraid anymore."
The door closed and the car started rolling. Gwen heard the white leather squeak as she sat next to Emma. It wasn�t just the leather, the entirety of the limo�s interior was white, from the carpet to the phone to the mini bar� Everything was a warm milky white. Emma herself wore a white business suit, cut conservatively about the chest, with the skirt to knee length. Her spectacles and jewelry were silver and sapphire blue, highlighting the whiteness of her outfit.
Emma smiled, "I hope white doesn�t bother you. It happens to be my favorite color."
"No," Gwen said trying to keep the nervous quiver out of her voice, "its kind of relaxing."
Emma crossed her legs and seemed to ease back, hands on her knees. "The thing I like about the color white is its honesty. The slightest wrinkle or the slightest stain show. The slightest imperfection draws attention to itself, so with white you know exactly what you�re getting."
Gwen was glad the lights were dimmed. If they were not she�d probably go snow-blind. "I�m sorry Emma, this is a lot to take in. I�m just supposed to accept you know everything about me and� my problems."
"It�s okay Gwen, I know this must seem confusing. So let me lay it all out on the table for you and you can decide for yourself how to proceed." Emma pushed her glasses with the square blue lenses back onto her nose. "My name is Dr. Emma Frost. I have a PHD is Genetics and a Masters degree in Education. I was a student of Charles Xavier. Have you heard of him?"
"The X-men guy?"
"Yes," Emma smirked, "Professor Xavier and I run separate schools. He believes in a separatist agenda for post-human education and I keep my school more inclusive. Regular humans, mutants, and even a few we can only classify as �others� attend my Academy of Tomorrow. Our curriculum is based around peaceful coexistence and independent thought."
Gwen blinked. 20 minutes ago she was just walking around to stay warm. She tried to spend the night in a woman�s shelter, but woke up when someone was touching her feet. She had to leave because she was getting scarred, and what happens when she�s scared frightens her. "So I�m not going to be an X-Man?"
Emma laughed, "Only if you want to be. My primary concerns are to help you control what�s inside you," Emma could see the flash of shock cross Gwen�s face. She tried to lighten the mood, "not to mention you can finish your high school diploma. After that I�ll try and equip you for whatever life you want," Emma closed her eyes and looked away, "as extraordinary or as ordinary as you want that life to be."
A normal life? Was that even an option anymore? "How did you find out about me?"
Emma took her glasses off, folded them up and put them in her jacket pocket. "I have friends everywhere Gwen, in the military, the government and industry. A project the size of the one that created you is tough to hide from everyone. Lots of people had to turn a blind eye. Even if they didn�t know, they should have known. If the axe comes down it comes down on everyone involved. So," Emma patted Gwen on the knee, "the government can�t reveal you exist because of the illegal things they�ve done to you. All I had to do was call the right lawyers and they can�t do anything to you any more, so you don�t have to worry about being hunted."
Gwen tried to think back that far, but honestly it hurt her head. She remembered going to Peter�s house, but him and Aunt May had moved. She was so scared. Then the government men showed up with their machines and everything went red.
"With all due respect," Gwen let a little anger creep into her voice, "that doesn�t explain how you know about me."
Emma held her hands open to the girl. "The government once asked me to assemble a team of state sanctioned superheroes, as a bridge between mutants and humans. While that project was a failure I still maintain those contacts. They told me directly." Emma slid off the seat and onto her knees. She took Gwen by the shoulders to focus her attention. "When I read the part about what those evil men had done to you I was furious. That�s why I dealt with it the way I did. I wanted them to know that if they ever came after you again they would have me to contend with."
Gwen looked away. The revelations were making her dizzy.
Emma lifted her chin with one finger and looked into her eyes. "What they did wasn�t right, but they gave a beautiful bight woman a second chance at life. And I�m going to help you in any way that I can." Emma�s expression hardened. "I�m not going to lie. There are segments of the government that think you are too dangerous to let live. I�m going to help you prove them wrong."
Gwen looked at her own hand. It was dirty and it didn�t look dangerous to her, but she new it was. She could almost see it crawling under her skin, the thing that was steadily growing hungry.
She made a fist till it hurt, as if she could squeeze the evil out. But she couldn�t do that. And she couldn�t control the thing inside her. She felt tears burn at the edge of her eyes.
"It�s okay to be angry," Emma consoled as she pulled the half-starved girl into her chest. "Heaven knows you have every right to want revenge. But there is a better way, Gwen. You can control the thing inside you and you can have a normal life if you want it. Let me help you."
Emma hugged Gwen as she jaggedly sobbed. It had been so hard, trying to keep the monster in for so long. What would have happened if she had let the creature out back at the shelter? The old woman with the crooked teeth, her breath smelling of onions, she�d pulled Gwen�s socks off and massaged her toes. She kept mumbling about how perfect they were, about how much she wanted to suck on them, about how good she could make "little Goldilocks" feel, if she would just follow her to the changing room�
Gwen wanted to let it out. There were fifty women sleeping at that place and she wanted to let the creature out to kill this woman. If she had, how many people would have died? Just the one who deserved it? The fifty other�s in the room? Would she have gone on a rampage across Manhattan? What sort of carnage could it cause? There was no way of knowing and it was getting harder to control by the day.
Emma began to stroke the sobbing girl�s hair. "I know it�s tough to believe, Gwen. Tough to believe that some rich woman in a white limousine is going to roll up and make it all better� and you�re right. Life doesn�t work like that. You know it and I know it. It�s going to take a lot of hard work. It�ll probably be a long time before I can let you mix in with the other students. It�s a dangerous thing inside you," she tilted Gwen�s head back and wiped the tears away, "but I believe the woman inside you is strong enough to control it."
Gwen sniffled. "It�s a lot to take in� all at once."
Emma laughed. "Well, I�ve had a long time to think about it. You�re not an easy girl to track down Gwen. If you had given your real name at any of those places you stayed it would have made my life a whole lot easier." She nodded towards the driver�s compartment. "Poor Umberto has been driving around at all hours of the night searching for you."
Gwen pulled away from her. "How did you know to look at night?"
Emma was shocked at the tone, half question and half accusation. Being the "Ice Queen" she was Emma did not let it show. "Logic, Dearest. Logic and elementary psychology. The city is the only environment you know how to survive in. You�re a police captain�s daughter and (wild streak aside) you have that sense of civic duty. There are less people around at night, so that�s when you would be most active."
"You figured that out from a file?"
Emma shrugged, "It had a lot of details." She turned her head as she noticed the brick and wrought-iron gates they passed through. "It looks like we�re here."
Gwen�s eye went wide. "This is a school?"
"No," Emma tried not to laugh. "The school is in Chicago. This is just where I stay in Manhattan."
The car stopped and a costumed attendant opened the door. "Welcome back, Milady."
Gwen was surprised to find the man in the weird getup offered her his hand. Gwen took it and let the man help her out of the car. (What did the English call them? Beefeaters? Why did she have to sleep through social studies? Nothing in that class is supposed to be actually useful.)
Gwen�s thoughts were pushed aside as she stared at the Regency Era mansion. It wasn�t the size of it, New York had thousands of huge buildings; no it was the extravagance of it. The handcrafted fixtures that adorned the windows and walls, the steps that had been cut right from the rock. The stained glass circular window that hung above the heavy oaken doors.
Emma took her by the hand and led her up the steps. Two guards, dressed in some whimsical historical manner opened the doors for her. Emma led her into a large foyer, full of polished wood and crystal chandeliers. Ten servants stood in a line. There was a bronze statue of a naked warrior woman with a spear. It sat on a marble pedestal.
Gwen blinked again. Even at this late hour, ten people were waiting for her to return? How rich was this woman?
The servants, all dressed in the similarly historical manner bowed to Emma. "Welcome home," They all humbly said in unison. A well dressed man stepped forward, "Is there anything you require-"
Emma indicated Gwen with her hand. "Young Ms. Stacy is my guest. Please provide her with anything she requires."
"Ms. Stacy." They all bowed again.
Emma took Gwen by the hands. "I have a business meeting in a few hours so I need my rest. If you need anything just ask the staff. Food, a bath, anything you want." Emma smiled at her new young protégé, "We�ll go shopping for a new wardrobe tomorrow night, but right now we both need our rest." Emma turned to the man, "Please show her to her room."
He bowed crisply, "this way madam," and he lead Gwen up the stars. She turned back, looking over her shoulder at Ms. Frost. If she had looked harder she might have noticed the pitchfork motif in the stained glass window.
"Goodnight Gwen." Emma waved.
Once she was out of sight she turned to the staff. "Gwen Stacy is precious to me. Make sure no one touches her or molests her in anyway. She is off limits to the rest of the club. And make sure she wants for nothing. It is vitally important to all of us that she if kept safe and happy."
Emma stormed passed them, towards her private quarters. It was then she noticed the smudge. It must have happened as she hugged the dirty girl. Grime had smeared across the breast of her pristine white sports jacket. Angrily she tore it off and threw it on the floor. "And have that burned."

* * * * *
Mary Jane�s face twisted with the effort. She shut her eyes tight. Her breathing sped up. One hand massaged her tit and nipple. The other touched her sex. The sensation of her own fingers against her clit was normally pleasurable, but now she found humiliation in it. Mary Jane gritted her teeth.
It didn�t matter who was watching her. She had to come. Maybe if she did it would be enough to save Peter�s life.
Bart Hamilton smiled. She was into it. For the moment Mary Jane�s fantasy was her reality. And in this reality he was Norman Osborn and beautiful little Mary Jane had put herself at his mercy.
She�d stripped herself naked, and with the exception of one hiccup, seemed completely engrossed in the fantasy. Mary Jane didn�t bat an eye when Dr. Hamilton instructed her to masturbate.
While Mary Jane took a long while getting into it, Hamilton busied himself with zooming in his video camera. At first he focussed on her chest, then panned down to where her fingers played with her hairless pussy. Finally he kept the camera steady on her face.
Her face was what really intrigued him. Everything that was going on emotionally was written on her face. The fear of being in a room with a man she knows to be a killer; the apprehension of being forced to commit blatant sexual acts on camera, the hopelessness of a girl loosing her innocence, and the determination of a woman with a mission.
Her concentration was perfect. It made her all the more beautiful.
For a moment he took pity on her. Quickly he pushed the notion aside. Hamilton new he had to keep going. He�d not done anything like this for his first 50 years of his life, if he didn�t do it now it would turn into a dangerous fixation. For the last 25 years he�s listened to people�s problems, with their parents, their children, and sometimes their own gender. He set himself above them. He could take them to the places they were not brave enough to go. Only he could heal them. Only he could stop them from inevitable self-destruction. They came to him for guidance and absolution. You could say he was developing a God complex.
But gods can grow jealous. Gods can grow angry. Norman Osborn had the power of a god and the will to use it. Why shouldn�t lowly Bart Hamilton do the same? Why should he give forever and never take the rewards presented him?
To have the power of a god and not the will to use it� You could say that was the real crime.
Mary Jane� beautiful little Mary Jane� the worst thing that ever happened to her was that a great man deemed her worthy of his momentary notice. Whether Osborn did molest her or use her as a hostage, there was no difference. She had touched greatness, he�d left his shadow on her psyche, and her short little life took meaning from it.
So Dr. Barton Hamilton watched Mary Jane stand in front of his desk, biting her lip as she rubbed her clit. He could see the excitement glisten between her legs. He thought to himself, "What would Norman Osborn do?"
He pressed the intercom button on his desk. "Ms. Brooke, come in here please."
He pressed the "off" button before she could respond. Whatever his secretary had to say didn�t matter. She was his.
Ms. Brooke had been Norman Osborn�s personal assistant. She was one of the very few people who had daily contact with him and it had broken her psychologically. When they first met she was a wreck. Norman Osborn still had a dominant hold on her, even a full year after he�s been incarnated. She refused to believe the reports of his death. "You don�t know him," she explained once, "he�s too smart to be stopped by anyone, not Nick Fury or the Grim Reaper."
So they made a deal. Ms. Brooke would assist him in his practice in exchange for a standard salary, she would tell him everything she knew about Norman Osborn, where all the bodies were buried, and he would give her free counseling to make her nightmares go away.
You could say Ms. Brooke was the first brick in the wall. He�d given her a few hypnotic suggestions that weren�t in the deal.
She�d been at her desk all afternoon writing down every shady thing she ever saw Norman Osborn do. From goosing a secretary to money laundering, it didn�t matter. Hamilton needed the dirt. If he was going to have the same sort of charisma as Norman Osborn he�s have to know how far he could push it.
And now Ms. Brooke slid inside his office and quietly closed the door. She was a tall and slender woman, quite attractive in face and body. She kept her blonde hair short in a no nonsense haircut. Her face needed no makeup, but it was always done anyway. She wore a thousand-dollar business suit with expensive yet conservative jewelry. Her clear blue eyes held and intelligence that enticed as well as warned.
On the outside she was a consummate professional. On the inside she was a true submissive, looking for a master to rule her. Hamilton gave her the suggestion that he was that man.
"I�m done with the report you requested," she said while holding up her Osborn manifesto, "did you need my help with something?"
"Yes," Hamilton said as he took the book from her. "Run the tripod while I get the handheld. I want to have as much of this meeting on tape as possible.
"Of course." She responded as she slipped behind the camera. Her attention was drawn to Mary Jane. Her breathing had grown short and ragged. Her skin had started to flush an inviting rosy red. Ms. Brooke pulled out the view on the video display so she could capture more of Mary Jane�s body.
Dr. Hamilton opened a drawer and fished a second handheld camera out. It had less memory and it didn�t record video in the same quality as the larger one, but he didn�t care. The sick smile that spread across his face told him what fun editing both recordings would be.
"Don�t come yet Mary Jane. If you come I�ll kill Peter."
Mary Jane slowed the strum of her middle finger. "Okay�"
She was close. He could smell it from where he was.
He snapped new batteries in and finally the image flickered to life. Hamilton rounded the desk, so that his new camera could catch Mary Jane from the opposite angel. He dropped to one knee and kept the girl�s ass in the top half of his frame.
"Keep going Mary Jane, I�m almost in a mood to talk." He started to like mocking her. "You have a nice body, but if you�re going to whore yourself for your boyfriend�s life you�ll need to show me how much you want it." Now he knew why the Goblin smiled. "Finger yourself. I want to see you get your fingers in there. Show me how you like it on your g-spot. I want to see you play both inside and out."

Mary Jane�s eyes were still shut, but she looked over her shoulder at him anyway. "Can I lay down-"
"Learn to take orders, Ms. Watson," he hissed, "Obey me or hit the bricks!" He even scared himself a little bit. He almost felt like he was channeling Osborn�s spirit.
She had to lean one hand on his desk to prop her up. Timidly Mary Jane spread her legs and slightly crouched. Hamilton recorded from behind and below, getting an excellent view of her slit and asshole as Mary Jane slid her longest finger into herself.
A shuddering gasp erupted from her. Half bent over she was even more exposed than simply being naked. She didn�t know if she was embarrassed to be aroused or aroused from the embarrassment. Conflict flickered across her sweet features as she felt the dual orgasm mount inside her.
Her cunt clenched around her finger as she found the spot. Her palm rubbed against her clit as she manipulated her sex.
Dr. Hamilton, respected hypnotherapist, laughed out loud. His patient twisted herself into awkward positions and humiliated herself, all for his pleasure.
"Unnhhh!" she couldn�t hold the moan in. "I didn�t come� I didn�t come� please Mr. Osborn� don�t kill Peter�"
It was true. She didn�t orgasm but she was on the verge. Her heart raced. Her legs trembled. Every fiber of her wanted to let loose. The pressure building up inside her was becoming painful. She had to let go soon or explode, but if she did so she was certain of "Norman Osborn�s" wrath.
Hamilton laughed. "Go ahead and come, my little trollop. We�ll discuss your boyfriend after you�re done."
"Thank you." She whispered as she dropped to her knees, "oh thank you." Mary Jane was able to dedicate her second hand to it as well, rubbing her clit at the same pace as the middle and index fingers trusting inside her.
Hamilton watched in fascination as her breasts bounced with each shuddering breath. She swooned. Her eyes closed and mouth opened. Little moans escaped from her. Sweat poured off her. Her skin flushed bright pink. He could feel the heat from several feet away. One hand made little circles on her clit. The other hand plunged its fingers into her cunt.
Overcome with the erotic impulse Mary Jane keeled forward till her face and breasts pressed against the office carpet. Her legs folded and stuck her ass up in the air. Mary Jane�s fingers continued to grind over and into her sex, she panted in exertion. The smell of sweat and sex filled the room.
Hamilton dropped to his belly, focussing his camera and attention on the fingers that rapidly worked her quivering sex.
"Ooo� thank you� thank you� ah! Ah-ah-ah-uh-ah-uh� " Whatever she was saying had degenerated into in a cascade of grunts and moans.
The tremors took over. She stopped groaning. She stopped breathing altogether. He could see every muscle in her body tense.
"Unnggghhhh!!!" She almost exploded with the exertion of release. The climax took over her and she rode the wave.
Hamilton kept his camera focussed on her, not wanting to miss a single twitch or quiver.
Mary Jane�s fingers slowed to a stop. Like a great steam engine, she couldn�t simply stop. She had to ease into it.
Hamilton rose and stood over her, recording the tangled mess of her hair that splayed like a red halo around her head.
He looked up to find Ms. Brooke staring at him with a playful grin. "Wow!" she silently mouthed.
When she was done Mary Jane rolled onto her back. She wiped the hair away from her face, leaving a wet half-circle from her still dripping fingers the side. The streak looked like a crescent shimmering in the light.
Mary Jane writhed for a moment before she settled comfortably on the floor. Her breasts gently rose and fell with each breath, her pink nipples were still enticingly erect. She kept her legs somewhat spread and lazily pet her sopping wet sex. Her skin began to return to its usual color. There was a hint of a smile on Mary Jane�s face. Her entire body radiated afterglow.
Bart Hamilton smirked. She was simply amazing, sex personified. He had to chuckle.
Mary Jane�s eyes snapped open. "Dr. Hamilton!?!" She crooked her head up and she screeched in terror. "What are you doing here!?!"
TBC�
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Ultimate Tangled Web