Take your time and enjoy your nun

“No.” You rise atop your eight legs and stalk towards the nun. “It is not yet time. I have you.”

“Aw.”

“Silence! That’s enough for now. Present yourself.”

“Yes master!” She drops to hands and knees, raising her heart shaped ass for your inspection. You hiss, shuddering faintly at the sight of her breedable curves. You crawl over her, feeling her shudder in anticipation as your hair brushes her bare back, your black shape dwarfing her own, enveloping her in all eight legs.

“Please, master,” she gasps. “Brutalize me.”

There is something seriously wrong with her, but damned if you’re the one to fix it. Your ovipositor thickens beneath you and brushes the small of her back, resting between her ass cheeks. Oh. That’s new. You slowly rub your narrow breeding stick between the trembling globes, relishing in her needy whimpers and the pleasure that thrills through you at the sensation.

“Ohhhh master.”

“Do you want it?”

“Master. I need it!”

“Show me.”

She immediately turns around. You’re on the verge of ordering her back when you feel her hands take your rod and feed it slowly into the warmth of her mouth. “Oh!” you gasp. You didn’t know that was an option. You hiss, legs flexing as she runs her tongue along the groove of your rigid fuckpole. There are…evidently a number of options you can explore with her.

“Oh master,” she gasps, pulling your narrow ovipositor from her mouth, her hands caressing it with worship. “Such a power. Made to break women. To **** your young into them. To breed them.” She runs her cheek along it, her skin hot as he breath which puffs along your quivering fuckstick. “So perfect. No woman can resist it.”

Anyone else and you’d think they were being facetious. But it’s a bit hard to credit her for that considering what you are, who she is, and what she can apparently do with that tongue.

“Yessss,” you click. “No woman can. You’re mine, whore.”

“Oh yes master!” she groans. “Tell me what I am!” This is the last she will say for now, for once more her mouth closes on your ovipositor and resumes sucking.

“You filthy slut,” you hiss. “Sucking off a spider monster. Have you no shame? What would your sister’s think?” How her throat vibrates around your fuck stick, taking you deeper than you thought possible. “And you love it. You’ve always wanted to do this haven’t you? Be on your knees sucking out my eggs. They’re not for your mouth. No! Get off!” You shove her back, retreating a step to get a good look at her. She sits where she’d fallen, leaning amongst the webs which line the room. Her eyes glow in arousal, cheeks flushed and mouth damp from spit. She looks a mess. Gods damn she never looked so wonderful.

You hiss and advance. She doesn’t back up. She smiles and falls on her back, propped up by her shoulders, looking at you between the valley of your breasts. She spreads her legs, waiting for you.

You hit her like a train, ramming yourself inside her. She squeals, bouncing against the webs, sliding up the hill they make against the wall. She grabs at you as she slides down the silky curve, falling, pushing you deeper inside of her, your breeding pole hitting her womb. You draw back and ram forward once more, building up a swift rhythm, bouncing her up the web before she falls and buries you deep inside of her once more. The chamber is alive with her gasps of pleasure and wails of orgasm as you mercilessly breed her. Your ovipositor bulges, pressing more eggs into her well used womb, swelling her stomach even more. She orgasms gods know how many times, the squeeze of her cunt around you like nothing else.

You plow her fertile fields long and hard. Finally, wearied, you pull out of her. She slides down the silk, moaning and rubbing her swelled stomach in delight.

“Ohhh master. How long, master? How long before they hatch and crawl from me?”

“Not long,” you tell her heavily. “A few days. They’ll be small then. And hungry.”

“As am I, master.”

You pause at that. Oh. Right. You should probably get to work spreading the web through the catacombs. You rise. “I’ll catch us some rats. They’ll be easy.”

She grimaces. “Rats?”

“Well what else are we going to find down here?”

“I could always sneak into the kitchens,” your **** says. “If you made me a disguise they’d never even notice.”

“Made you a…”

“You’re a spider aren’t you?” She rolls her eyes. “You can use your silk.”

That’s true. Being born of a hero, your natural spinning skills have been translated to a high level in weaving, and you make your own silks. “No. No robes,” you tell her. “I want to see your stomach swelled with my young. See my mark on you. You belong to me.”

“Oh I do master. I do, I do! But please. I want something. Something to show the world even after I bear your young that I am yours. That I have submitted to your sin. Please master.”

You sigh. “Alright.”

She squeals and claps her hands in delight. “Thank you master! Oh thank you! I have this wonderful design in mind. I think it will look wonderful with your brood inside me.”

“Greaaaaat…”

#

“You’re sure this is what you wanted?”

“Oh utterly master! It looks amazing! I love it!” she squeals.

“Okay. Because, well…”

“What?”

“Nothing. Nothing.”

You shrug. Well, who are you to judge? And she does look damn good in it you must admit. The silk you wove for her is little more than a huge V stretching across her breasts, jutting where it rubs her pebbly nipples, sliding further down to meet at the apex of her thighs, only just covering her pussy lips before running up and between her squeezable ass cheeks. Her swelled stomach projects slightly from between the fabric, but once her womb has emptied, it will reveal her flat stomach to maximum advantage, much as it reveals almost everything she has. Seriously, she may as well be naked. But…you must admit she does look somehow even more attractive with it.

“Do you want me to do anything while you’re away, master?”

“No.” You rise and stretch your eight legs one at a time. You shake the weariness from yourself. “Just stay here. Relax, and feel my children grow within you. When they are born, then we will see about taking more of your sisters into the web.”

“I will train them to serve you will master,” she purrs, lying against the curtains of web and stroking her gravid belly. “They will love serving us.”

“Uh, yeah. Okay.” You step out of the chamber, leaving the cooing mess of a nun to your children growing within her.

As you move through the shadowed corridors and weave your web like silken veils through corners and passages of the catacombs you wonder at the changes which have taken hold. Truth be told you had no hopes of things ever going this well. Not only have you secured a breeder on the grounds of one of the gods own abbeys, but she is willing – more than willing – to bear your young into the world. Given time and luck, you may well have the entire abbey under your control, dozens of women fattened with your young, breeding a horde of spiders. Hell, one day, this whole town might be yours! The thought has you salivate and rub your mandibles greedily together, venom dripping into the silk which quickly absorbs it like a sponge.

A noise echoes through the catacombs. Like a frightened cat you scuttle up your webs to the ceiling and still. You hold your breath.