Illusions

It was simple, clear-cut. Spider-Man swung through the city, and when he saw a rather dangerous looking criminal, he leapt down and landed neatly on a wall.

He shot web at the armoured thug, wrenching the clasp on a protective belt loose and throwing another web to tug it off, getting rid of the thug's protection. He grunted, turning up to glare at Peter and lifting a heavy gun. Peter bounced from wall to wall, throwing down more web and pulling the gun out of his grip.

He flung it down the alley, before spotting yet another holster around the thug's waist. Another shot of web saw to that, connecting his wrist to the holster before a tug pulled the weapon away, the belt tearing from pressure.

There was an odd brown blur, though Peter was too busy leaping overhead at the sound of a frustrated yell to pay it much mind. Alright, that seemed like they were unarmed... Wait! Spotting a knife, Peter ducked down and leapt through the air at the thug.

He grabbed the holstered knife from the thug's chest, moving at lightning speed. It felt strange, the thug's chest... softer than the musclebound appearance of it made him think, but that wasn't his priority. From the ground he fired a flurry of webs quickly, binding the man's ankles together before firing up and watching as the crook got lifted up in the signature Spidey style, webbed up feet first for the police to find, legs up in the air and the rest of his body dangling beneath, weapons too far away for him to free himself.

He fired one more quick web, making extra sure the thug wasn't getting away by trapping his wrists together.

"We've got to stop meeting like this," Spider-Man said. "No, wait, sorry, I'm thinking of some other generic crook, you guys need to work on your image. Anyway, see ya!"

Smiling to himself, and content in a job well done, Spider-Man swung off, making a mental note to call the cops and let them know where to cut the thief down.

Less clear-cut was the existence of a certain someone with remarkable hologram tech who wanted to drive a wedge between Spider-Man and one of his closest friends. MJ was just walking home when out of nowhere she felt something slap her ass, and before she could turn around to see what the hell had happened, she felt a sudden wrenching as her pants were pulled down to her ankles. She whirled around, fully intending to just whack whoever was responsible, but all she saw was a strand of webbing.

Wait, no, it couldn't be...

She glimpsed Spider-Man just as another bit of web fastened onto her top and pulled, yanking hard enough to tear the seams. It was only then MJ realised exactly what was happening.

Her top was in tatters, her pants around her ankles, leaving her in nothing but her bra and panties in the alleyway. Her eyes widened, flailing for a moment, dark-brown arms making a vague effort to cover up, struggling only as she tried to cope with what was happening.

Why was Spider-Man dropping out of the sky to strip her?!

"What's the big-" MJ began to yell. She could've sworn she heard some other, deeper sound as she spoke.

And then she wailed as another shot of web tore off her panties. She looked down, her ass revealed to anyone that happened to pass, and she immediately dropped her hands down, one hand hiding an elegantly trimmed patch of hair while the other tried vainly to cover up her pert cheeks.

"What the fuck- AHHH!"

Spider-Man tore off her bra personally, his hand brushing past a chocolate-brown nipple (and ok, maybe she'd imagined naked time with Spider-Man before, but never like this) as he threw it away.

Before she could react to that, she suddenly found herself being pulled until she was dangling upside down, her curly black hair falling down and just brushing the street, exposing her suddenly humiliated expression, with every inch of her brown, bare body exposed, her tits jiggling as she wriggled, her mostly shaved pussy exposed to the air, and her (magnificent, even if she said so herself) ass exposed to the air.

She could feel the air against every inch of her. All she had on were her shoes, and technically her jeans, but they were still around her ankles and stuck in the web that held her aloft and upside down.

"Hey!" MJ shouted, then swallowed, suddenly realising that yelling and drawing attention while she was stark naked and suspended was a very bad idea.

She bit her lip, even as another shot saw her slim wrists tried together behind her back, as her nude body rotated slowly on the web.

"We've got to stop meeting like this," Spider-Man said. "No, wait, sorry, I'm thinking of some other generic crook, you guys need to work on your image. Anyway, see ya!"

What the fuck.

On the ground, she barely noticed the flicker as something that looked for all the world like a knife holder suddenly started looking an awful lot more like a torn bra.

Spider-Man swung off, and a distant figure on a rooftop stood and walked away to, leaving Michelle nude and trapped, biting her lip to keep from crying at the thought of someone stumbling upon her like this. She squirmed, cheaks heating at how her boobs jiggled at her struggling. Damn it, she was a badass! She wasn't going to cry, and she wasn't going to be seen stark naked by anyone!

Neither of those hopes came true.