Accept your fate

{if

standandfight = 1}The Drider rapidly builds up a prison of hot, sticky web from the base of your body all the way up to your hips. You can feel the heat radiating against your crotch while you channel all the muscle power in your legs to try to break out.{endif

}

"Please spare me!" You yelp in earnest while your will to fight is slowly drained away.

The more you resist, the longer you prolong the inevitable. You've realized that it's easier to relax in your comfortable cocoon than it is to struggle against it. She's woven you a silky bed to keep you in place while all you have to do is let her ravage you. That enormous shaft isn't going to go soft until you've satisfied it, right?

{if

Submission >= 50}Fear radiates all the way down your spine to your tight, puckered little asshole. Looking at her massive matriarchal dick would be less intimidating if she wasn't so voracious to shove it in you. You squirm helplessly against your bonds, but part of you craves the degradation of being spun around by a busty but terrifying spider woman and being made to please her. In fact, your body can't help but react to the fantasy as your delightfully small member stiffens up between your thighs.

You take a deep inhale of her salty, sweaty scent and your brain goes dumb. Drool starts to pool at the corner of your mouth and your tongue struggles to keep it contained. It dribbles off of your lip telling your cruel mistress all she needs to know. You crave becoming a breeding ground for her eggs.

"What a delight it is to see you've given up so easily. My prey normally put up a fight." She traces a chitinous finger up your chin.

"But you're dying for my younglings to be **** inside, aren't you?"

A fleeting thought of your {if

Elf = 1}fair-skinned elven{elseif

Orc = 1}buff orcish{endif

} wife seeing you this weak and powerless darts into your head. You think of the expression she would make upon discovering your predicament. You see disgust and repulsion just before she laughs at how ridiculous you must look to her. A real man wouldn't be spreading his legs gleefully spurring an ovipositor inside of his anus, but you've failed to meet her expectations of a "real man".

No, you want to say in response, but a different one comes out instead.

"Yes, Mistress," you hum in defeat, craving her to pound into you already. Before you have time to regret your words, she splits the casing open to expose your spread thighs and splits them apart to the point of straining with a pair of her many legs. Her slimy endowment smears against your exposed ass cheeks as you tilt your head back and swallow the consequences of what's coming to you.{elseif

Submission < 50}You wince in disgust at the long, tapered arachnid dick that she's now flaunting in front of your face.

"If you defy me, you shall suffer," she threatens with a menacing venom laced into her words. You know she'll show you no mercy, but you can't bring yourself to succumb to her easily. Your struggle to regain freedom renews again as she positions her lips over your **** neck and extends her fangs to sink into your skin. The bite feels like two needle points perforating your weakest point, but shortly after you begin to feel the effects.

Your vision gets hazy and your head is set on fire with lustful thoughts.

_Breed. Breed. Breed. _That is the only topic that swims into your otherwise empty mind.

You hump impassionedly at your gossamer web-casing as if you were going to get the chance to use your mediocre tool, but when the ovipositor of your enemy is waved in your face again, your affinity towards it changes. Your mind melts at the thought of getting skull-fucked with this Drider's vein-ridden breeding meat. It completely eclipses your size in every way, vastly superior to anything you've ever come into contact with. She is rightfully your queen, and nothing could bring you greater relief than to suckle every last drop of sticky egg-goo down your throat at her command.

As if reading your mind, she interjected, "No, it's not going in there," with her nail resting on your bottom lip.

Better yet, you need it **** into your puffy, tight asshole so that you can be a good host for your new brood. Your thighs instinctually spread apart as much as they are able to. As your knees flex against the webbing, your Mistress knows you intend to submit now.{endif

}

There is no turning back. You have wandered into the wrong web and you have to accept what comes next. Your unguarded slut-hole aches for Mistress to fill you and your hips grind against her spear-like tip to entice her. Your tightly woven ring kisses her sploogey head and pulsates around her as her natural lube splashes onto you. Her tentacle-like appendage slithers inside and starts wriggling down your colon. You embrace her affectionately by clenching down your walls while her goop is churned into your bowels by oncoming eggs.

She cups your face with a motherly touch while her hatchlings find their way down her shaft. Her abdomen jerks forward and hits the back wall of your bowels while she smirks cruelly down at the euphoric expression you make as your prostate is shoved down by her enormous spider cock. As if it weren't good enough, her dangling breasts overshadow your view of her face, and your eyes are entranced by the wobble that accompanies her thrusts. You're being impaled by a woman, and she won't let you forget it.

One by one the eggs bloat her ovipositor and send more wonderful ooze to bulge your belly. You can feel the first one approaching as your sphincter is stretched far beyond its capacity. The oval shape struggles against your cinched entrance and is halted in place.

"Relax, my feeble carrier. You want Mistress to impregnate you, right?"

Yes, more than anything, you think to yourself. Your muscles unwind and relax at the instruction of your captor, gaping your asshole and allowing passage to her needy eggs into your "womb". Another one follows shortly after and burrows inside of your intestines, swelling out your abdomen into a shape you could cradle if your hands were free. Every egg plopping inside of you fills you with more bliss than the last and hot warmth in your loins. You uncross your eyes for a moment to look down and see that cum from your tiny pea-shooter has splattered all over the bottom of your well-bred belly.

You become so delirious with pleasure as she pops more eggs inside that your consciousness slips away. You briefly dream about your wife and daughters ridiculing you for coming back home to them utterly pregnant, and you can't help but harden at your humiliation.

Hours pass and you open your eyes to stare down the red flashing eyes of the hatchlings that are crawling out of you like army ants. As soon as they emerge from their slick veil, they march towards the call of their mother who is out of your view. Your gut slowly deflates until you're certain there can be no more left. You undress your velvety webbing which has now lost its infrangible properties and stand up on two wobbly legs. Leftover egg goo spills down your calves as you shamefully amble out and back into the direction from where you came.