Nun's are more fun

What is life without risk? Even yours, just begun. The church is simply too tempting to pass up on. A whole host of pious, devout virgins waiting to be taken and fucked to oblivion, and if you’re smart about it, you just might be able to get away with it too! You scurry back down the steeple, the hairs of your legs gripping the stone as you climb down and towards where you saw the nuns congregate. At the roof you attach some silk to the sloped awning, and by this begin your careful descent down. Your feet cling to cracks as you spin your web down, your arachnid form all but invisible against the dull grey stones of the massive church. No one would think of looking up, and if they did, all they’d see would be a path of darkness among the shadows of night. You hope.

Light glows within a window and you stop just above it. Very carefully you peek around the sill. A cell waits within, typically sparse for the gods botherers. Little more than a cot, a dresser, and a desk act as the furniture. The last is occupied, a lantern propped on it the source of the light, and before it, sits a woman.

You instantly feel a very un-arachnid desire creep over you as you look at her. She is everything the elders wished in a broodmother and more! She is human, and fills a sheer nightgown well with heavy breasts pert with the tautness of youth, and an ass that’s round and looks as firm as a melon that begs to be squeezed. A wimple hangs on a hook nearby with the rest of her habit, allowing her long blonde hair to fall about her shoulders in a smoothness that as a spider you can appreciate. She has a beautiful face, full of that earnest innocence of love for a caring god, and a sudden image interposes it of what she would look like, eyes wide and mouth open as she eagerly sucks at your eager breeding pole. That was not something one of the elders would have felt, you realize at once. They would see only a womb to breed. But you see so much more. You see a body worth a fuck!

Speaking of…You feel your ovipositor slide free from beneath you like a dagger from the sheathe. Later, later you soothe, carefully withdrawing it. You’ll have to catch the girl first. That’s all the challenge you need just now. You settle in to wait, watching the nun fill in the journal she has before her. You can read, but are too far away to make out the words. Maybe you’ll grab it on your way out…

You duck, hanging below the sill when you see her lay down her pen. You watch the glow vanish as she turns off the light, and listen to the shuffing sigh of her nightgown as she moves across the room and slides beneath the coverlet. She yawns with a delightful squeak. Ooooh fuck. Your mandibles rub together in frantic anticipation. Still you wait as her breathing gradually evens out and she falls securely to sleep.

O-kay.

You slowly climb up to the spacious window and peek inside the room. There, lying in bed, her eyes closed and mouth slightly open, lies your future broodmother. The thick sheets cannot hide the curves you trace with eight greedy eyes, fixing on the dip where hidden her velvet furrow awaits your eggs. But the need for caution has never been greater! You need a plan.
You considered keeping her in the room and mounting her here, but that might draw undue attention and would have far too much risk, only heightening as time goes on. No. Your best chance to succeed is to take her bodily from here, binding her securely and gagging her, then taking her somewhere more private to enjoy her at your leisure. Once she has accepted her role as your **** and mate, then maybe you will think of expanding.

But none of that matters if you can’t grab her. Here. Now.

O-kay.

You crawl through the window, careful not to make a sound. Thank the gods nuns take a vow of poverty so there’s little to get in your way as you lurk across the floor and make your way to her bed. Once at its side you pause. Gingerly you lift a leg and put the first bit of pressure on the mattress. You stop, wait. Nothing. You put another and again stop. Still nothing. Very carefully you hoist yourself onto the bed the rest of the way, spreading out your eight legs to avoid putting too much pressure on any one place and disturb her.

She moved.

You freeze where you are. You stare down at her, looking at her face, framed by a halo of golden hair. You’re drooling, but she doesn’t open your eyes. You wait another minute without moving, then finish climbing over her.

There. You’re in place. You take another moment to give a silent cheer of triumph. You’re a large specimen of your kind. The girl lies beneath you, surrounded by eight hairy legs, your abdomen looming over her and your mandibles hanging like hairy scythes over her face, and still she doesn’t wake! How perfect is this?

Well, not very. Because now comes the truly tricky part. Now you have to remove her covers and bind her, then take her out of the church, all without alerting any of the others in the hall. Simple!

…Shit.

No. You shake your head, another very un-spidery habit. Shit. Not the time to think of that. You take a deep breath. O…kay. Let’s do this. You lean forward, moving your entire body over, mere inches from her ripe flesh and gently grasp the corner of her sheets. Very slowly you begin to pull them free.